Family

I came here to release some of my thoughts not knowing exactly what it was I wanted to say. I only knew that I needed to get things out. There’s so much going on in my head and in my heart, and if I’m being completely honest, I’m struggling to process it all. Just when I think I have a grip on things, something tips and it all comes tumbling down like some muddy landslide, except some days it goes in slow motion, some days it falls down very fast.

I think I know exactly the things that are causing this – I’m quite good at psycho-analysing myself – in the sense that I’ve never had any professional training but I can see things fairly objectively and detach myself quite easily from a situation. There’s probably more in there of course but I’m probably not ready to talk about that.

Those who know me know I’m not a talker. I struggle to talk out loud about the real stuff even though I know it makes me feel so much better afterwards, but the fear of showing emotion takes over and so taking that first leap is a massive issue for me – it’s why I have this blog. I write instead.

Anyway, so I was browsing through my blog and reading back over some of my posts, I’ve been feeling quite nostalgic lately, and I came across some of my posts I’d saved in my drafts that I never posted. A mixture of posts that weren’t relevant or appropriate to post at the time, and some that I wasn’t ready to post. I found this one below that I’d saved in my drafts for three years and it seems quite apt to post it now.

This latest event happened which has sparked off these array of emotions. My Grandma passed away a few days ago – one day before the three year anniversary of my Grandad’s passing. She was the last one of my grandparents – and I was lucky – I had an extra one in the family. But these feelings from three years ago resurfaced. I won’t lie and say I was close to her, but in a way it makes it harder to process. I don’t know whether I should mourn for her myself, or be sad for my aunt who is devastated and whom I’m close to.

Like I said, I don’t know what I’m trying to say with this post, but I felt like I needed to share some stuff – so here it is.

My Grandad passed away last week.

We called him ‘Gung Gung’ – phonetically translated from Cantonese.

It’s a weird feeling losing a grandparent. Knowing your mum is sad is upsetting. Hearing your aunt’s voice struggle over the phone is painful. Reading messages from your other aunt is heartbreaking. Feeling so helpless that the ones around me are feeling sad and I can’t even give anyone a hug on the off-chance it might help to ease their pain in some way.

My Dad lost his parents when I was quite young so I didn’t really understand, or know how to act. I also didn’t know them very well. I must have met them only a few times in my life whenever we travelled to the far away village in the South of China where my Dad grew up. It was sad of course, but I just didn’t really understand.

But with Gung Gung, we knew him better. We still only saw him the few times when we were in Hong Kong, and that time he came over to the UK for an extended stay. But we would live in his house. My mum, aunts and uncles would always talk about him, tell us stories about him and their fascinating life that just seemed so surreal. They would talk about him openly to us.

It was difficult to communicate, he spoke a dialect of Cantonese I can only just about understand, but I can’t speak it. He would occasionally speak Cantonese so I would understand but it was hard to ever have a real conversation with him. Especially because I was young, and when I grew up, he grew old.

It’s not until I’m at this age where I truly appreciate what Gung Gung did for my family, the family that was before I existed. They are who they are because of their parents. And I exist because of them.

I could go on forever and write an entire dissertation about my family history (what I know of it anyway) but that’s not the point here. I could go on about how he had been physically, mentally and emotionally ill for such a long, long time but that’s not the point either.

The point is, Gung Gung made some huge, life-changing decisions back in the day. He had lived a long and worldly life. I can’t answer on his children’s behalf, but I’m sure it was for the better.

And so, I don’t really know what I’m trying to say here, I just wanted to share this; that even though I may not have seen him much or spoken to him that much, I appreciate everything he did for his family. I have the most respect and love for him. I know it wasn’t an easy life but I have only the fondest, if a bit random, memories of him. Hong Kong and all my memories in Hong Kong, comes back to one thing, and that’s Gung Gung.