Goodbye, Nana.

February 12, 2009
"Where have you been? Couldn't get hold of you for days. Nana passed. We just came back from the cremation service. She couldn't breath at the end, and probably died from suffocation. Cancer, you know. It was all over her lungs. Hm..? No. No last words. Yeah... Chu was crying."


January 30, 2009
We were going to visit Nana today. This would be the last time we see her, but everyone kept that to themselves.

Dad was concerned about what to bring. Fruits? She couldn't eat. Health products? There would be no point. Mom was skeptical about flowers, but I thought it would be nice. We stopped by a flower store on the way, and picked out 3 bouquets of tulips. They were bright orange with golden rims.

When we arrived, Chu's wife opened the door. She was about to head out with the daughter to visit some relatives. It was the 5th day into the lunar new year. According to the tradition, each family supposed to pay respects door to door among friends and relatives. Firecrackers were going crazy outside. It was going to be that way for 15 days altogether. I couldn't bare.

The wife said: "Such a torture. Whatever disease there might be, don't anyone get this."

Chu was sitting there, quieter than usual. He greeted us with a faint smile. I believe that was the best he could give that day.

Through the narrow hallway, we walked into a small room where Nana was.

"Nana, we are here to see you!"
"Nana, look at the flowers! Aren't they beautiful? They are for you!"

Lying on the bed, she was not the Nana that I remembered. Her shriveled body was in a rather awkward position, but she was too weak to adjust it.

She couldn't take her eyes off from the tulips. They were exquisitely beautiful for her. There were so many of them that we had to use three vases. Her room suddenly lit up with a little energy, a little liveliness.

"Nana" Dad said, "I'm here to pay you repect - happy new year!"

"Kneel in front of me then." Nana replied. Her voice was weak, yet commending.

thud. Dad kneeled without a second thought.

This was not the Nana I remembered.

Mom broke the uncomfortable silence, "Nana, how are you feeling these days?"

"Not good. None of what a human being does feels right."

"Nana, look what I brought you." I suddenly remember of the CD which I burned for her. "Remember you said that you didn't know what I was writing my paper on? Ravel's La Valse. See, I put it on track 5 for you."

Chu brought over a laptop, and we quickly set up the audio for her. The firecrackers were too loud, so we plugged in a headset. The disc was playing. Nana closed her eyes. Her hands began conducting to the beats. She seemed more relaxed and more at peace.

"Ma loves music." Chu said, then sighed.

When Nana was enjoying the music, dad asked about her condition. Chu thought it was matter of days now. He told dad not to be too somber: "Everyone has this day. It would be a relief too when she goes."

I watched Nana from a short distance. She was still waving her arms to the music. Such energy and conviction were coming through these little movements. I leaned over to see if the music was still playing.

"No." She commended. She didn't want me close. She was self-conscious about her smell.

My heart felt heavy. How could she be so helpless, lying there and waiting to be taken away?

I sat there next to her for a long time, during which she said not a word to me, but was immersed in the music.

Then she felt tired. "We should go and let her rest." Mom suggested. We all shook hands with her, each and every of us. Her hand brushed by. It was the last moment that I'd ever remember of Nana.


December, 2008
"Hello? Nana? It's me! I'm calling from America! How are you..."

"Child! Nana misses you... But don't let this burden you..."

"Nana, I'm coming back for the new year. I'll come to visit you. Hanging on there..."

"I'm going to try my best to wait for you."