Dear Gma, Three Years Later

Dear Gma,

Tonight, I realized that I had forgotten about the day you died. Never fear, as soon as I remembered, dim sum for dinner it was. It will never be as good as yours, but with each bite eaten from your everyday dishes, I remembered more and more.

How can it already be three years? So much has happened since you left us.

I wish I could tell you that the world has learned to treat one another more kindly.

I wish I could tell you that the broken relationships that broke your heart were mended.

Really, I wish I could climb onto the warn-out swivel stools in your kitchen, belly up to your tile counter, snack on whatever you put out for us to eat, and tell you anything and everything about life.

O lady, do I miss you something fierce: your mischievous grin, laughter, and genuine love and support for whatever we were doing in the world.

This night, this year, with tears streaming, here is what I can tell you.

There have been new additions to our extended family, so there are now more spirits with whom we can share your spirit. I am so sorry that you will never meet your newest great-grandchildren: K, E, and M. We have already begun telling stories of you and Grandpa, #LasVegas.

You would have been so proud to watch A graduate from High School, A graduate from college, and soon E will get married. Not many people get to know their great-grandmother as deeply as they got to know you. You mean so much to them.

I am glad that you did not have to watch my own covid episode and subsequent struggles, but you were there in food that helped soothe my spirit and heal my body.

As will happen every year as the holidays approach and as we remember your death, we will be reminded of our loss. And even though thinking about your death brings me tears to this day, it is remembering your life that will bring me joy, laughter, and love always.

Until next year,
Bruce

In 2020, my Grandmother, May Chow, died from complications from Covid. Every year we devour some dim sum in her honor. I miss that lady. Below is the letter that I originally posted on Instagram on December 11, 2020.

December 11, 2020

Dear Gma,

Today you took your final breath and your body is now at peace.

Three generations of us, gathered from across the country said our goodbyes through a screen. This is not the way it should have been, but I know that you know our love for you transcends any barriers that the world could put before us.

As I kept vigil, trying to distract myself from thinking about your final moments, waves of sadness snuck up on me and the tears flowed: tears of sadness borne of loss, tears of anger that you died alone, and tears of gratitude you fought for, formed, fed, and loved me.

Sadness overwhelms me because, in you, we have lost the matriarch, the center, the glue for our family. I wonder what may come, but mostly, I will miss seeing you, teasing you, eating with you, hugging you.

I am also angry. Like too many, you died surrounded by strangers and not your family. Society chose ideological loyalty over the common good and your final days will be a constant reminder that we, as a community, failed one another.

As I tenderly look back through photos, gratitude beckons. I am grateful for your mischievous and playful spirit that kept us laughing. Grateful for your willingness to bend tradition in order to offer welcome. And grateful for your fierceness and strength of spirit that formed us all.

As I write these words, my grief is textured by powerful memories of how you loved. I will cherish the knowledge that your great-grandchildren had the chance to be loved by you. I will smile when I think back to the convenient ways you answered questions that always kept us guessing. And I will always be grateful that, from my birth, you fought for and loved me.

Please know that I will choose to let your loving soul bring joy to my own.

Oh dear sweet Grandma Chow, I am going to miss you something fierce.

Rest In Peace.
Rest In Power.

I love you,
Bruce

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