Niangniang (II)

The whole purpose of this trip was really to see Niangniang for the last time. Though I do not like to admit that to my family, as if saying that would make it real. Niangniang is in a bad shape. She does not have any serious disease, but the body of 86 years old is just like an old machine produce by a state-owned enterprise: once it began to break down, it usually was beyond repair.

Over fives days in my hometown, I went to see her 4 times in the nursing home. Her hair all grey. She had a hard time walking around. She was cold all the time. So skinny that her facial skin barely covered her skull. I had a hard time to holding back my tears. Just imagine that she used to be my greatest protector, but now she will sway in a breeze. But I did not cry. I do not know the reason, but I just did not want to cry in front of her.

I only cried in the darkness in bed during the night before my last visit to her. My mind was like a theatre and my past ran on the stage, every scene with my Niangniang in her younger age. Sometimes she went to the farmer's market for a day's dish, sometimes she help me to fend off school bullies, sometimes she game me money to buy comic books...... I think I got a little sick the second day: my throat felt like burning. Well, maybe it was not because of my cry (I took a run around the town the same night and then took a cold shower). But whatever. Hey, It is my blog, and I make causal connections.

Niangniang now have very bad memories. She will forget things she did a minute ago. I feel very sorry about it, because she has been very proud of her independence all along. Now this pride is eroding, and I can see her giving up to the fate. She knows that her memory is bad, and still struggle to get an up-hand. For example, she wrote a note of "take medicine". Before she has meal, she will ritually take a bowl with bottles of medicine and then cover them with the note. That way, after she finishes the meal, she will be notified that she needs to take the medicine. However, what if she memory goes further downhill so that she would forget the note itself? I feel the day is coming, and I hope my Niangniang will not suffer too much.

She can hardly read the clock any more. She will try to look at the watch, and count the number from one to twelve. If the time is around 11 or 12, she might get a chance to tell the time. Otherwise, she would try to count again, knowing that it is not around 11 or 12, but just cannot tell what time it is.

I also noticed that her watch looked familiar. It turned out that she old watch went bad, and my parents gave her my old watch, the watch that accompanied me throughout high school and college. It still worked fine on her wrist, except that her wrist is so skinny now that the watch hung like a big necklace from her wrist. Before I hopped on bus out of my hometown on Friday, I told my parents, "If my Niangniang passes away, please leave the watch for me, as a memory." I intentionally told them that one second before I checked into the bus station, so that they could not scrutinize my face for any signs of pessimism. I just hopped on the bus. I could not have any conversations about the topic of Niangniang passing away. Rationally, I know it is coming, but mentally, I am still in denial.

One day when I was in her place, I noticed that one type of her medicine ran out. I asked her whether she had supplies somewhere, she said yes, but could not find it. I told her that I would get some for her in the in-house pharmacy. She tried to stop me, but I insisted. She gave up easily (she would've struggled more before), as if the weakened body also diminished her determination. I took her card, and ready to get some medicine. All of a suddenly, I experienced the strongest urge of dropping tears. I quickly walked out and rushed to the pharmacy. My thoughts were all about my childhood, when was sick all the time, and it was Niangniang who always accompanied me. When I was checked into hospital for my bloody dump, my Niangniang literally lived in the hospital as well. When I broke my arm bones, Niangniang walked me all around the town in the middle of the night and eventually went to a doctor's home and waked her up to fix my arm. And now it was my turn to get medicine for her, just for one day, because I would be gone in a week...... I think I am very easy to feel guilty. I think I should, but Niangniang (also my parents, my sister, etc.) often thought I already did a lot for her. That's only add to my guilt, as if I am taking those cheap shots to filfill my moral ego, only leaving old folks at home to run for their own life.

In the morning of the last day, I needed to get some software for my old laptop that I left for my brother-in-law. Out of the store, I saw the famous cathlic church in my hometown. Though an athiest, I walked in. It was an okey church, but it had an ugly Juses sculpture in the front: Two angeles descented from the heaven, holding a crown to put on the head of Jesus. I do not know why, but I just thought it was silly. I was the only one in the church hall. I picked a front seat, sat down, held my hands together to touch my jaw, and said probably the first prayer of my whole life. It was about my family. Of course, nothing changed afterwords. No enlightment, so spiritual connections, just like what I expected. I told myself, "That's great. If I had've felt releaved, what a selfish bastard I am to use religion to serve my own well-being?!" However, there might be a slightest spark of thought that I do not want to write off here: If there is some advanced being who wants to go against all my disbelief and want to filfill my wishes, that's not bad as well. With that, I head to visit Niangniang for the last time.

I was afraid that I would eventually snap during my last visit, but to my surprise, I was extremely calm. I planned it all along. I got a nice blanket and some health products. I understood that, even though she might not need to want them, it is important to pile up stuff for her. If I understood correctly, nursing home was just like a kindergarden. Everyone had their territory and property. Although no one admits, they are comparing with each other all the time. I need to buy things just so she can brag about her "overseas grandson". That's few things she has now, and that's few things that I can do. I got there with my gifts, and she was quite receptive. She then compainted about a winter clothes, because she could not operate a zipper consistently. I told her that I would bring it back home so my mom could get a tailor to change it into buttoms. I asked her to take several pictures with her roommate and the nurse. I also shot some video of her without her notice. I guess that way I would also have her voice and movement. It was time to go. She insisted to walk me in the aisle. I stopped her in the end and hugged her. Her voice got cranky, and I held her hand, "good bye, and take care." Then I walked away. After she turned back, I walked back too, taking the last video shot of her back slowing walking away, stopped several times to take a breath, and finally disappeared into her little room. I felt this last shot was a little cruel. She did not know I was there, so she did not take out her best effort walking. In fact, she looked even older, her back slumped as if there was unbearable weight over her. That is a video shot that I doubt I would ever want to watch. I just want to keep it in my archive, because metaphorically, it is very important to me, because Niangniang soon will walk out of my life, just like she slowly walked out of the video frames.

That's almost all I want to say about Niangniang for now. However, please do not take away the point that she was a perfect grandma. No, she was not. She was sometimes overreaching into other people's business, liked gossiping, sometimes selfish (at least selfish for her loved ones), stubborn, did not get along well with other people, picky, etc. Not surprisingly, I shared very similar flaws with hers, as 18 years living together really molded my personality.

However, that's not the point. The point is: just like every kid knows, a gift does not need to be perfect in order to be a great gift. Niangniang is probably the greatest gift I have had so far in my life: it is a package of love and flaws, a combo of repressive experience and sweet memory, a lifetime of struggling with me and caring for me. It is a gift that I am almost too late to say "thank you" before I have to say "good bye"......