Last night, my grandpa took a fall from his walker. What should've been a minor scrape left my grandpa spitting out blood, unable to clot the cut in his mouth. Thankfully, he didn't suffer from more serious injuries, but I couldn't help tearing up hearing my dad frantically walk my grandma through the technique to stuff towels into my grandpa'a mouth.
When I was young, I was never especially close to my grandpa. I saw him once a week, on a dad-mandated "grandparent weekend visit." He liked to sing, watch Chinese soap operas, and drive his beaten up Accord around, looking for squirrels to run over (he is an odd man.) One day when I was 11, I remember coming to his house and giving him a big hug, like I normally do. He looked confused, and I couldn’t understand why my grandpa suddenly forgot my name. Later on, I learned that he suffered a stroke. From then on, he has not returned to his once-energetic self. In college, when my grandma and I wrote letters to each other, he would always add a line at the end telling me how proud he was. My grandparents were different than other old traditional Chinese people in that way... they never faltered to tell me they were proud of me, that I would be so successful one day, or that they loved me. In fact, my grandpa and I have a secret handshake. Sometimes, in the middle of big family gatherings, when he looks particularly uncomfortable, I squeeze his hands three times. It means "我愛你“ or "I love you." He squeezes back four times, "我更愛你“ (I love you more,) and I return with four more squeezes "我最愛你“ (I love you most.) When I came back home in May, my grandpa asked me "你什麼時候再回去“ (when are you going back?) He asks me this every time I came home for a school break because him and my grandma believe that that East Coast carries illnesses and germs and cancer. This time I replied "我不用回去了“ (I don't need to go back anymore.) "你可以常常來陪我?“ (You'll come see me often then?) His smile was so genuine I could literally feel it pierce my heart. I fiercely nodded yes. It's a promise I know I'll stick to. Since I've been home, I've really started to notice his age. There are moments where he looks so sad, crouched over the kitchen table, too tired to finish his breakfast. There are moments when he gets frustrated, when his bladder fails him in the middle of family dinner. But when we are together though, he is generally cheerful, especially if I bring him kiwis or oranges or donuts. He's not allowed to have more than 3 pieces of fruit at a time because he's pre-diabetic, but he also knows that I can't resist his rare smile. "Sa-ba-reeee-na, 再來一點點" (just a little bit extra?); I'll always give him more. So even though visiting him today might make me break down all over again, I can't wait to see him, to spoil him a little, and to squeeze his hand three times.
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For one of my med school apps, I needed to write eight improbable facts about myself. Naturally I could not come up with a single one, so I turned to the person who knows me best, my best friend Nicole. Here's what she came up with."
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