My Granduncle was possibly the kindliest person I ever knew, except I was probably too young to realise it before he passed away. My mom always liked to tell the story of how I, when I was four or five, would give him a toy car that he gave to me, saying “Gung gung, I give this to you, but you must say ‘I don’t want’, okay?”
Everybody would chuckle, even though they have heard the story a dozen times before.
Looking at the photo of Grandaunt, my mouth just went ‘wow’ before I could stop myself. Throughout the time I knew her, she always told me to eat more, to take another serving or to ask me if I was thirsty. It was just her way of caring for people. When I was sick and my mom and pa were at work, it was she who took care of me.
Much as I mourn for the loss of grandaunt, I also feel a greater loss her departure has made to humanity. She carried with her a kind of old-school dignity, grace and gentle femininity that I don’t see anymore in women these days.
They just don’t make ’em like they used to.