Grandfather
Often when I've asked my father about his side of the family, he'll usually say something like, there's nothing worth discussing, or there's nothing worth telling. In some of his more mischievous moods, he might even say something like, "You're better off learning about your mother's side of the family. They're good people".
More recently he's let other things slip. Things like, "Why would you want to know about your grandfather? He wasn't a very good man. He gambled (mah-jong) and got himself in jail, and I had to take care of the family in China while he was in jail."
This occured when my dad was a young man. My dad told me stories of how my grandfather lost the family's "fortunes", by investing in bananas and fishing boats.
I also remember stories about how my grandfather was a typical chinese patriarch. He was always served food first, and all his children ate after he was through picking the best food. My grandfather looked after himself first, and what was left went to the family. My dad said when he was growing up he only had one toy as a child, a toy gun.
I don't know if these are exaggerations, but these are the things I remember being told. When my grandmother was dying, I was told that my grandfather was completely unemotional, and that rather than look after my grandmother, he went and gambled. I've heard that my grandmother on her death bed told her children to ignore their father in his old age, like he ignored her. My dad has often told me what a great and loving person my grandmother was, so to hear how she was treated by my own grandfather is sad. He's also told me how I was one of her favorite grandchildren.
This is the stuff of Amy Tan novels. Family grief, stuff that Chinese people lose face over, and I'm sure my own grandfather and grandmother would be turning over in his/her grave (or the Chinese equivalent), if s/he knew I was writing this stuff down.
I remember my mother telling me that she would tell my grandfather (after my grandmother passed away), that he should be more loving, more sociable, and communicate more with me, since I was his grandson, and one of the few male descendants, he had in the world. It's true that in the short time my grandfather did live with us, before asking to return to Taiwan to live, he never did talk much to me. I remember little of him from that time, only that he spoke to my dad mostly, and in the dialect of Chinese, (Fuzhou-hua), that I don't understand.
I didn't want this post to be so negative, so I'll end it by talking about the good things I do remember about my grandfather. All throughout the time we were growing up (before and after he lived with us), he would send my sisters and I letters in English, written on almost transparent thin airmail paper, and he'd go to the Taiwan post office and buy us the latest commemerative stamps and mail those to us as well. I've saved many if not all of these letters, and lately when I've gone through these letters, it's a wonder to me that he had the patience and the kindness, and the thoughtfulness to write these letters to little kids. I certainly wish I had been more attentive and had written him more letters in return.
In retrospect those weren't the actions of a someone who was uncaring, in fact I think those actions showed he cared very much, he just wasn't the type of person who was expressive with his feelings. No surprise there, he was Chinese. So as with anything in life there are the good memories as well.
More recently he's let other things slip. Things like, "Why would you want to know about your grandfather? He wasn't a very good man. He gambled (mah-jong) and got himself in jail, and I had to take care of the family in China while he was in jail."
This occured when my dad was a young man. My dad told me stories of how my grandfather lost the family's "fortunes", by investing in bananas and fishing boats.
I also remember stories about how my grandfather was a typical chinese patriarch. He was always served food first, and all his children ate after he was through picking the best food. My grandfather looked after himself first, and what was left went to the family. My dad said when he was growing up he only had one toy as a child, a toy gun.
I don't know if these are exaggerations, but these are the things I remember being told. When my grandmother was dying, I was told that my grandfather was completely unemotional, and that rather than look after my grandmother, he went and gambled. I've heard that my grandmother on her death bed told her children to ignore their father in his old age, like he ignored her. My dad has often told me what a great and loving person my grandmother was, so to hear how she was treated by my own grandfather is sad. He's also told me how I was one of her favorite grandchildren.
This is the stuff of Amy Tan novels. Family grief, stuff that Chinese people lose face over, and I'm sure my own grandfather and grandmother would be turning over in his/her grave (or the Chinese equivalent), if s/he knew I was writing this stuff down.
I remember my mother telling me that she would tell my grandfather (after my grandmother passed away), that he should be more loving, more sociable, and communicate more with me, since I was his grandson, and one of the few male descendants, he had in the world. It's true that in the short time my grandfather did live with us, before asking to return to Taiwan to live, he never did talk much to me. I remember little of him from that time, only that he spoke to my dad mostly, and in the dialect of Chinese, (Fuzhou-hua), that I don't understand.
I didn't want this post to be so negative, so I'll end it by talking about the good things I do remember about my grandfather. All throughout the time we were growing up (before and after he lived with us), he would send my sisters and I letters in English, written on almost transparent thin airmail paper, and he'd go to the Taiwan post office and buy us the latest commemerative stamps and mail those to us as well. I've saved many if not all of these letters, and lately when I've gone through these letters, it's a wonder to me that he had the patience and the kindness, and the thoughtfulness to write these letters to little kids. I certainly wish I had been more attentive and had written him more letters in return.
In retrospect those weren't the actions of a someone who was uncaring, in fact I think those actions showed he cared very much, he just wasn't the type of person who was expressive with his feelings. No surprise there, he was Chinese. So as with anything in life there are the good memories as well.
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