A tribute to Granddad.

So, I don't call him Granddad. Affectionately known as "Gong Gong", I just do feel that Granddad has a warm feel to it, and that's exactly how he was as a person.

Granddad worked with KGB. No, he wasn't with the secret Russin police. That is the family code name for Kong Guan Biscuit. I remember when I was younger, how each time we visited his place, he would load our hands with Kong Guan Biscuits - those creamed ones that we loved as kids, those with pretty coloured icing on top, lemon-cream biscuits, Marie biscuits (best dipped in Milo/Ovaltine) etcetc. He had a sweet tooth as well and enjoyed these sweets with us.

In the Asian context, love is being shown in a less liberal, quieter sort of way, especially with the older generation. Granddad was like that, but he loved us all. He always made sure we were well-fed and made sure we got what we wanted, in the smallest of ways (like making sure we got to watch the TV programmes we wanted to). He sat in his favourite spot, quiet, most of the time, but we always got very warm welcomes when we got to his place.

Granddad slowly started to suffer from dementia, but he always tried to remember our names. He always wanted us to know he remembered us and loved us. Then, he suffered a stroke. Yet, through it all, he was oh so strong. I remember the times he mimicked my hand movements. Thumb for thumb, forefinger for forefinger. It was so amazing. Though he couldn't talk and couldn't even walk then, it was nice to just be with him. And through it all, my mom has been so strong for her dad, so patient, so loving. Wow.

We all believe Granddad is in heaven. And that's the best place to be...Take care, Gong Gong...