Here comes the waterfalls

There was a question asked by another blogger, about whether or not I have any good memories. It triggered a memory of my grandparents during the Christmas holidays. My maternal grandparents were like second parents, I grew up alongside them. There is a lot to tell about my life with them, but I’ll share a few stories.

Whenever I went to my grandparents’ house, I was always willing to help. I remember accompanying my grandma to the nearby market to get fresh groceries. We would stop by the juice bar and drink healthy blends. That’s probably the reason why I love to drink natural juices :p. Everyone at the market knew her by name; she was their number one customer and was always greeted with kindness. Actions do speak louder than words, and witnessing the love others had for her, helped me shape into the person I am today. There is a reason why they were kind to her, and that was because she always showed respect for everyone, regardless of race and social class, she treated everyone the same. Otherwise, why were they so nice to her? They even gave her great deals. Her way of living taught me to treat everyone the way I want to be treated —of course, I learned this from my mum, as well, but I just want to focus on my grandma at the moment — with respect and kindness. Ever since, everywhere I go, I always greet with a smile and ask questions in a polite manner. What’s sad is that some people seem surprised by such actions. It’s as though good manners have gone straight to the depths of a sewer; is it that uncommon?

Her love made me want to love others, and it made me want to do something special for her. I did a lot of special things, but I remember one Christmas when my sister and I decided to pick our favourite stuffed animals, and gave it to them as Christmas presents. For a child to give away their favourite stuffed animals, is like me giving up Lord of the Rings right now (never going to happen). But, that’s who she was and that’s who I wanted to be.

It was in 2007 on my 20th birthday when I last spoke to her. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that it would be the last time. It felt like an ordinary day, we talked about life and she said her usual “beware of the wolves (bad guys)” and “always cherish your parents.” I didn’t notice at the time, but our good-bye before I hung up the phone was the longest we’ve ever shared. I kept repeating good-bye, good-bye, bye, love you, bye, good-bye, God Bless. I sounded like a broken record. Two days later, I came home to find out she had a stroke. I reacted the way anyone would, in disbelief. She sounded so coherent, like her usual self, was it a joke? I honestly thought it was a cruel joke, and I would’ve preferred it being a cruel joke than a reality. She was in the hospital with my grandpa by her side everyday (what a trooper). The doctors said she couldn’t hear anything anyone said, but when I called and spoke to her, my uncle told me she started to cry. To me, that meant the world. Why? Because I did not get a chance to say good-bye in person. I did not get a chance to give her a kiss in her forehead or squeeze her tight with a bear hug, just like I imagined. I was upset, I was terrified, I was in shocked. She passed away in the days after my last phone call.

The thing is, I understand why nothing worked out so that I would be able to say good-bye in person. I understood deep down that she wanted me to remember her in life, not the way she was leaving this world. I don’t have that memory in my head, of her in a hospital bed. I remember her joyful and Faithful soul, dancing through her apartment, laughing and enjoying life. That’s who she was, and that’s how her legacy continues.

She passed away on October 12th, 2007. My grandpa joined her on May 27th, 2013.

I will talk more about them, but I had to get this out of my chest. I was feeling a bit nostalgic. I miss them. I miss them a lot.


❤ ❤ ❤ Love, Ellie ❤ ❤ ❤

Poetry: Watering Flowers

If I’m watering flowers

I ignore your place

I hesitate and deny my hearing

I cannot face my worst fear.


When our stares meet

our flawed desires vanish

our souls are in peril

I loathe the emotions

do not smear your darkness.


The birds sing misery

I feel the strong currents

the petals drop on my feet

I do not look back.


Stop looking, they sing

it will not return

my sentiments are drained

why is it lost?


Wailing lament

floating with grief

waiting to sink

waiting to crash

waiting to be whole again.