CNY.
I do not enjoy it. Why do we need a particular month to stuff our faces silly?! Then parents go crazy cooking non stop, and nag at us to spring clean the entire house, then we visit houses after houses, and create small talks. If we were really genuinely concern about our familial relations, we probably would not need a particular 3 days to get it done isn’t it? How peculiar.

Yesterday, at my grandmother’s house, I felt a sense of loss.
Language.

I couldn’t communicate with my grandmother because I could not speak the language, and she couldn’t speak mine. Still, I sat there, listening as I always do, and answering with the bare minimal of teochew that I know. My grandmother makes really good food, but yesterday as she talked about the mee siam that she made the day before, I realized that when she’s gone, that art would be lost. That taste could never be recovered. Truth be told, I have never particularly craved for her home cooked food. Sure, it was delicious, but to crave for it, I cannot recall. But, when I was little, when my grandma was too busy preparing her great feasts for goodness knows who and did not have time to prepare lunch for me, she’d cook me instant noodles. Something simple. However, it was lip smacking!

It was as though she knew the exact timing to make sure that the noodles are still chewy by the time I dilly dally to the dining table. There will always be enough soup for me to satisfy that salt craving, and yet make me crave for more next time. Once in a while, she’d throw in an egg and it would be cooked to perfection. All these, I remember them well.

We are really a generation apart. The first time I cooked for her was pasta. I remember the praises she had for me. And the only English word she knew was good; and she said it throughout the meal, at times even giving a thumb up. My grandmother is so cute I could squeeze her… but I fear for her brittle bones.

Every cny, she tells me the same thing: keep your ang pow properly. Don’t anyhow give cheated by your friends.

For the past 20 years, she has told me the same thing. She still thinks I’m a little girl. That little girl no longer enjoys tic tac and polo sweets. However, she still buys me those once in a blue moon. Yesterday, she thrust this huge bottle of pineapple tarts even though I have not touched one for years… and she said, “your favourite.”

I think I want to spend more time with my grandmother this year. I may not understand the language. But I can listen to her even though she may say the same thing a gazillion times. I want to cook for her even, because even though my grandmother is a fantastic cook, she is an adventurous eater too! Most importantly, I know she enjoys my company. ☺ ☺