The little girl and her Grandpa

There was once a little girl, not too long ago, who lived in a small cozy house in the suburbs of town. And not too far away lived her grandpa. Her Mommy's daddy.

This little girl adored her grandpa. He was tall and strong, always protective, talking about "spearing" thieves who dared to break into our home, woe betide them. He had a keen knowledge of world events, and a wisdom and an outlook that expanded far beyond the distances he had actually ever physically travelled. He had the hands of a carpenter, the eye of a painter, the handwriting of a calligrapher, and the very special kind of grandpa-ly love that gives grandpas a very special place in God's design.

Grandpa coloured her life. He read to her the story of Rapunzel, again and again because she loved it so much. She, being a perfectionist of a five-year-old and ever so keen on getting everything right, would argue with him on how to pronounce words. And he, with a twinkle in his eye, would always get them wrong on purpose. He made a game of guessing the newscasters for the night, a few minutes before the 8 o'clock news came on TV. Sometimes she got it right, sometimes he did. They were pretty well-matched, that 7-year-old kid and that 60-year-old man.

Feeding time at the zoo. The pesky little girl was a picky eater too, but he never lost his patience with her. Never once, in her memory. As he sat squarely before her, he'd lovingly scoop the rice or porridge from the side of the bowl. It's cooler, and won't burn your tongue, he would say. Then he'd make a whole game out of mealtimes. Sometimes he'd wave the food-filled spoon around to form a food-delivery aeroplane to her little mouth. Sometimes he'd shut his eyes with spoon held out, pretend to be surprised when she nipped the food quickly, and watch her chuckle in delight as he speculated on any number of creatures that could have been the culprit (rabbits? birds?). Whatever the tactic, it always worked its magic on Little Miss Choosy.

And oh, who could count the number of things he made with those carpenter's hands? She remembers clearly that lovely set of small table and chairs, each vibrantly coloured and finely finished, placed out on the verandah where she loved to play. As he got older, his interests shifted to telecommunications, and she often marvelled at his skilled makeovers of used mobile phones.

Grandpa loved nature too, and she remembers countless walks with him along the beach back when she lived in a small coastal town. Wind in their hair, the salty smell of the sea, trees bending and rustling in the breeze. He loved the relaxation, and he'd always say to her with a smile on his face, "This is the life." He loved dogs too, and one of her dogs is with her today because Grandpa rescued him when he was a street dog. And oh, Grandpa was the first person to tell his little granddaughter that her naturally small teeth were beautiful.

And how about his legacy of wisdom? Telling her family to never take safety for granted. Doors locked, power plugpoints switched off, keeping valuables safely -- those were just a few things that became second nature to her, just because Grandpa taught to make them a habit. Wise words, jokes, catchphrases -- so many things Grandpa shared remained in her heart even as she grew up.

And grow up she did. This little girl eventually went to college, but alas, within her first year away from home, something went wrong. Grandpa got sick, and was diagnosed with the big C, the horror of everyone who awaits the results of a medical -- cancer. He went for radiation and for surgery, and she would fly back home anytime she could. Every time she did, leaving for college again just got harder and harder. Maybe Grandpa knew too, that time was limited.

Grandpa went home to see Jesus on the last day of the year. Somehow, Grandpa's little girl knew that the pain would not go away, though it would get better with time. She knew that that special place in her heart for her grandpa would never be filled again, until that day when they meet on the heavenly shore. She still misses him dearly, till today, as much as she did when he first left.

This girl's in medical school now, learning step by step to be a doctor. Grandpa would be proud. Today she saw a few surgeries similar to the one her grandpa went through, and an elderly man recuperating in the wards who had a lovely smile, and who looked a little like him. And again, like many times before, she felt that familiar bittersweeet twinge in her heart.


Kong, I miss you. But I'm so thankful we'll be reunited with you again someday. Thank you for the legacy you've left in our lives -- one that remains, and will remain still. 

P.S. And oh, please give God a great big HUG for me. :)

"Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" - 1 Corinthians 15:55