Arfan (Entry #981)
I want to share something about a very great lady that I had known my whole life.
I love my Nani (nickname for my grandma) sooo much.
I want to share something about a very great lady that I had known my whole life.
I love my Nani (nickname for my grandma) sooo much.
Dear Grandpa,
I remembered deeply the little things you have done for me. I always feel touched at that instant. Every time when I have to stay back in school, you will always fork out the time to bring me home, and not forgetting the bread you will buy for me on the way home, in case I am hungry.
This is the memories which I have with my grandma. Still remember her face since I was in primary school. My old house was at Serangoon, every morning she will wake up very early like 5 or 6am to do housework.
Dear Grandpa and Grandma:
“Singapore will never be the same without the both of you there”.
Living abroad has many advantages and certain disadvantages. Like one of them is being away from the people you love, in my case they are my grandparents Mr. Tan A Ting and Mrs. Jaw Ah Keow.
My grandparent lived in Malaysia and we only visit them only on the school holiday and my father will always buy fruits and daily used items.
Dear Grandma,
Finally. I can now declare myself, your ‘chip off the old block’. It as taken all these years and the current global food shortage to bring out the YOU in me, Grandma, fancy that!
Dear Grandma,
I am ever so thankful about the love you have for me. Even though you had a hard life, you persevered on. Just when your life was starting to stabilize, disaster knocked on the door. At the tender age of six the Japanese came and stole away motherly love from you.
Here’s how my grandpa lived up to his name…
Dear Ah Kong thank you for being a fun loving, caring and inspiring grandfather to us your grand children and great-grand children, a firm yet encouraging father to your children, and a loving, sincere and affectionate husband to mama.
My Nonya “Ah Mah”
The Dragon Boat festival never fails to wake in me a tinge of nostalgia and cherished memories of my childhood. The aroma of freshly-made Nonya dumplings in particular brings a tear or two to my eyes. The cruel fact that I would never be able to taste the world’s best Nonya dumpling made by my beloved grandmother remains a stark truth.
My maternal grandmother was an ordinary woman born in a small village in China. She grew up planting padi in the fields. She married a young man, who immediately after wedding, left for Singapore to be a kuli. She continued to plant padi with the other villagers.