The Chinese Warrens

I called my grandparents around 6:15p to let them know I was catching the train and would be at their place around seven this past Tuesday evening. "Grandma, I'm coming over. Is that still okay?" I often worry that she doesn't remember. "Of course it's okay! What time are you coming over?" she asked, excitedly. "I'll be there around 7 to 7:15," I replied. "7:17?" she verified. "No, quarter after seven," I said. "Okay!" she said. When I drove up to their house, my grandfather was standing in the front yard by the gate. "You're right on time!" he said. "I knew you must have said 7:15. When you called, Grandma said you were going to be here in fifteen minutes so I came out here to wait for you!" I sighed. "I'm sorry, Ba," I said. "I told her 7 to 7:15!" "I know that's what you must have said. She didn't remember." I got my stuff out of the car...

I guess this blog will also be about my grandmother's memory loss... Yesterday my grandmother called me on the phone, asking me to come over for dinner. "We bought all the stuff for guern fun!" she said, excitedly. I had told them the night before, when I came over on Tuesday, and they asked me what I wanted for dinner next Tuesday, that I haven't had that dish in a while. It's thick rice noodles rolled with chopped bits of egg, bbq pork, cilantro, and pickled vegetables. At least they remembered that I mentioned it. I couldn't say no. They had driven all the way to San Francisco's Chinatown from their home in South San Francisco to pick up fresh ingredients to make it for me. I went over to their house around 7p, after I got home from work. My grandfather, whom I call "Ba," was cleaning up in the kitchen. "You're too late!" he shouted jovially, over the clatter of dishes being cleaned. "We ate it all!" I smiled as I...

I've never really appreciated blogs. I tried writing one a while back (at least 5 years ago), but I think the subject matter really wasn't very worthwhile. A friend of mine introduced me to Allie Brosh's blog and I became enamored with her writing. And then, last year, two of my grandfather's brothers, my great-uncles, passed away. They were the first people that I really knew and held close to my heart that I had lost. This made me painfully aware that my grandparents are not invincible, even though it seems like they are. My grandfather was just complaining on Monday that he can "only ride [his] bike around town for 20 minutes now!" He's 94. Yes, I know... crazy amazing. At the same time, my grandmother's memory has been steadily deteriorating... I got my BA in Literature because I'd always wanted to be a novelist, but I never really knew what to write about, and my creative writing senior thesis was garbage. It was the worst writing ev...