Intermission: I'm the one who...

Pardon the interruption, but I need to take a moment to talk about family. Just consider this a commercial from the regularly scheduled programming and bear with me as this will not be my most light-hearted entry. You know how in every family there is a label that you can comfortably pin on each member? Like Jane is the hopeless romantic, Grant is the computer guy, Diana is the shopaholic, Tom is the impulsive gambler and so forth. Well, I'm the one who wears his heart on his sleeve and can't control his emotions (amongst other things I'm sure).

You see, this past week, I flew home to celebrate the life of my grandmother. She was my last remaining grandparent and one who I had lived with for roughly 11 years of my life. Granted that 'life' was seemingly ages ago, it was hard to discount the impact that it had. When I first heard on the 21st of March (my parents had called), I was overcome with the type of sadness you would expect. I did not shed any tears, but at the same time, it was not a time to be jovial. To me, now this might sound harsh, my grandmother had passed away a long time ago. Not because I was in England and she was still in Toronto, but because it's almost what she wanted. She had faked the inability to walk so that she could get a wheelchair. She faked sickness so that she wouldn't have to eat. Heck, she even faked alzheimer's and pretended she didn't know who I was. This was not the grandmother I had grown up with.

Under these conditions, one would have thought I would have dealt with this a long time ago. Admittedly, I did too. But as she lay there peacefully and each of my relatives paid their respects, I couldn't fight my emotion. I couldn't speak. I could barely stand. I just sat there letting the tears pepper my black cashmere sweater. While I thought I was personally okay wiht it all, I couldn't help but feel their emotion or the emotion that I thought they were going through. It's not that I am close to my family; in fact, we're probably quite far from it. It's just that, without her, there's no me. And if I think of how much my mom (and dad) have done for me, I couldn't help but feel remorse. All she ever really wanted, it seems, was for her children to pay attention to her.

Growing up, my grandma was born into a very rich family in China. To say that she was spoiled was probably an understatement according to my dad. With all the riches and people to take care of her, she married my grandfather who was also part of a rich family. Soon after, they gave birth to my dad and everything was setting itself up for an easy and comfortable lifestyle. That is, until communist China came in. My grandparents and their family's lives were spared in exchange for their riches. Everything they couldn't hide, they had to surrender to the government, regardless of sentimental value. And even what little they could hide, they couldn't wear or use for trading because people would wonder where it came from. Therefore, they had to live common folk lives. As someone who had been pampered well into her early adulthood, this was a shock to my grandmother. The only lifestyle she had ever known was gone.

Now other people in the same position would probably fight and regain their prosperity over time. This, unfortunately, was not her. While my grandfather and dad moved to british ruled HK for better opportunities and a more free lifestyle, they had to literally start over. While she did go to HK for a short while, my grandma returned home to be with her parents as she knew they would provide the type of attention she craved. Rather than send her back into the real world, they held onto her daughter and continued to shelter her. This continued until my grandfather and all of his kids were able to fully support themselves. Since her parents had not moved, she now looked to her kids for the attention she missed. This was fine while they were still young, but as they started their own families, time was sparse. That and her attitude never changed. She alienated people with her grandeur lifestyle. She made people within her own financial and social class feel bad about themselves because they had not experienced what she had. Needless to say, she did not hold onto many friends. As such, she would always run back to the arms of family. It was a vicious circle.

Now, I only heard about all of this stuff this past weekend, but it gave me perspective. And as she still laid there in peace, all I could think is that she was never given much of a chance through no fault of anyone but herself. It does make me very thankful for all my parents have done for me, but I'm not the one that needs this type of thing to gain perspective. Remember, I'm the one who wears his heart on his sleeve.

All the best, grandma - you'll always be a part of me.