HE

HE gripped my hand tightly, afraid to fall. We took step by tiny step, moving forward, but at a pace so slow it didn't qualify even as a stroll. I glanced at his face- his long white eyebrows that reminded me of the elders in the Chinese period dramas, his thin drawn face, white hair combed in an almost fashionable way. This was the man whom i had relied on for piggyback rides, to be there when i got home from kindergarten when i was younger, to bring me to and from the library each day. The man who told me stories and cooed me to sleep. It seemed now that our roles were reversed. This time, I brought him to the hospital, held his hand and steadied his steps.

Glancing around the hospital, i wished desperately for a wheelchair. At least, then, HE wouldn't have to walk all the way to our destination. But exercise, HE reminded me, was essential. Besides, i had time. Neuroscience clinic. Yes, our destination. Brain science, i thought with a frown. Everyone there with dementia? Or psychos who's mental state was, to put it nicely, in a whirl? The people there looked normal enough, except for one lady in yellow who kept getting up from her seat and had to be pulled down again by her husband. Sad case-- her mind just went snap one day. A teacher, i heard her husband whisper to the nurse on duty. She used to be a teacher till one day, stress shut her mind down.

Finally we left. We left the hospital after the checkup. Waiting for the car to arrive, we sat down and waited. "You know", HE said in a slow, soft voice. "I used to laugh at old people. Thought they were pulling young people's legs. Always walk so slow, always needing help. Now i know, now i know"

We had lunch at a remote coffee shop near his house, and we ate mixed vegetable rice. It was heartening, yet sad to see him struggle with a spoon. Yet, with patience and no qualms, HE slowly put spoon after spoon of rice into his mouth. But, HE finished it. Every single grain of rice.

My mind is cast back to when i was a little girl. We were at the same coffee shop we were at now. HE was feeding me every grain of rice on the plate, saying " Don't waste food, many out there have nothing to eat."

HE was always one to walk his talk. HE said walking was good, so HE never took the bus to nearby places. HE said to finish your food, and HE did. Growing old and frail did not make him change who HE was deep down inside. His memory might have almost completely failed him, his legs unable to carry him quickly and to places, and HE might even have forgotten who i am. But most importantly, what HE believed in and his attitude in life has never wavered.

HE, is my gong gong, my grandfather, and HE has my respect.