Korean fashion show casting early this morning. Cab driver pissed me off 'cos he went round and round and when I asked, "Are we back at the same place?", he replied, "No." But I'm not stupid, so do I look like I cannot read "Onan Road" and "Carpmael Road" when they surface again? It was an old Chinese uncle, so I didn't wanna be mean, but yes, I was very irritated. The cab fares only keep increasing, whereas good manners and etiquette just keep decreasing. Whatever.
Saw many girls there. Iko, Jaselin, Andrea, Chez... etc. And girls from big agencies: Phantom, Diva... etc. Made a couple of new friends, including this girl named Precy. She's so sweet. She was on the recent Maxim cover, I think. Client was late... Each of us had to walk down the corridor with the rest of the girls watching from one end and the client sitting and watching too at the other. Very unnerving. I wanted to go home when I saw how perfect some girls were strutting, but there was no other escape route. So the mantra was, "Just whack. Just whack." The client was picky, making us comb and tie up our hair (yes, even my fringe) and shining those bright studio lights that showed every blemish, standing in front of us and scrutinizing our faces, our skin... Conversing in Korean... It was a long casting but I can't complain 'cos I landed the job, along with Andrea and Precy and a few other girls. They told us it's a famous designer's show for Korean hanbok, and if they like us after this show, they'd keep using us. Hanbok is their traditional costume or something... I guess this is somewhat like the Rumah Bebe Peranakan show I did the previous time... Traditions and all. 12 September is the show.
All that aside, I want to talk about my maternal grandpa. Remember when I mentioned back in November last year when my grandpa couldn't walk anymore? And how I cried 'cos he was crying like a baby when I visited him at his home... Yesterday, I went to the hospital with my mum to see him again. For the first time in all the times I'd been to visit him, my heart sank to the bottom of the ground. He wasn't looking good at all, half-dazed and everything. I called him but he wasn't very responsive. My grandma pointed at my mum and asked him if he could recognise her. And he could say her name. He could recognise me as well, said my name, called me Yan Yan. He even managed to tell my grandma she was being naggy again. He kept on asking for water even though the doctor instructed for no food and drinks but relented by allowing the maid to feed him with tiny drops of water from the plastic coffee stirrer.
Today after my casting, Andrea dropped me off at Changi Hospital on the way home. And everything just went downhill from there. Grandpa was unconscious and his lungs were bleeding a little through the tube they put through his nose. My mum started crying and calling him to wake up. He didn't respond at all. I panicked inside, tried to call him and tell him I was there to see him. No response. My grandma started crying too... In my 22 years, it's the first time I've seen my grandma cry. She said she'd been calling him all morning. Even the maid was calling him by his ear so many times, "Ah Gong...! Ah Gong...!", telling him to wake up so we could all go home. All he did was moan once in a blue moon and his face seemed to be in pain. I spent the next 2 hours crying by his bedside, only going out to pick up calls and call Angel 'cos I wanted my grandpa to go to Heaven and I didn't know how to tell him in dialect, not even Hokkien. Angel came down with her mum, they tried to talk to him in Hokkien, whatever they could. We prayed for him and all I can do now is pray too, that he can hear us.
For the first time in more than half a year, I called Kelly. I even thought about asking her to bring Lassie over to my grandpa's place after he's able to be discharged because he loves Lassie, but......... ='( Sometimes I wish I'd never called because all she tells me about is Jesus this and that. I know everything, I know. I just want someone who can speak gospel because I definitely can't, much less in dialect.
Anyway, they shifted my grandpa to a single room in the early evening. I fell asleep by the lobby in my heels and white dress because I was so tired. Went home with my mother at about 5pm, slept a bit and I'm up again. Grandma says she'd call if there's anything. I hope there won't be. I just want him to wake up, that's all. Yesterday he called my name, and today he's unconscious. It was just a day apart... Only a day. He still said he wanted to cut his hair, and I wanted to bring Gucci to see him again.
My dear Grandpa:
My mum gave me this passport-sized picture of my grandpa sometime back. I put it up on my whiteboard. Obviously this was taken when he was well. I had it scanned into my computer. He looks so merry, so happy...
This year's Chinese New Year:
To be honest, ever since he was bedridden, it didn't seem real at that time. Like, I would be walking in the neighbourhood and then happen to see an old man who looked like him at first glance, walking in the distance. At first, I would be tempted to call out to him. But then I would hold back when I realise, "Oh, Grandpa can't walk anymore. Can't be him." And then I would be disappointed.
The previous time I went to the hospital before yesterday, he could laugh and speak okay. I showed him shots of LA from my digital camera, and he was telling me to marry a Chinese man instead of a Caucasian guy in the future. He was fascinated with the video function of the camera, when I played a video of LA scenery for him, saying, "Wow, it's moving! It can move!" It was good to see him smiling. I remember the look on his face when I waved goodbye.
Seeing him on that hospital bed today broke my heart. I couldn't stop crying when I think of him in the past, when he used to be well and happy. We would go to the coffee shop for breakfast with my mother early in the morning. Kaya toast, half-boiled eggs, him coffee, me Milo. How he used to pick me up from primary school when my mum was busy, carrying my school bag... When I was in Secondary 1 or 2, my mum would leave me $3 for lunch before she left for work. But I got my grandpa to cook an extra share of white porridge for me when he cooked his own lunch because I wanted to save my money for Fann Wong's new MTV VCD. For more than a week everyday, I sat next to him at his kitchen table, just eating plain porridge with black soy sauce or canned food. He kept my secret and didn't tell my mother. It was me who confessed after I got the VCD.
Whenever my mum used the cane on me, Grandpa would be my human shield. One time in Primary 4, I was walking home from school with him and my mother. I ran ahead, past a pillar. And behind that pillar was a white and brown stray dog from the nearby garbage dumpster. It came chasing after me when it saw me running. I didn't stop running, but this time I was screaming and crying. Grandpa saved the day and chased the dog away. I remember that.
Whenever I walk over to his place, I would hear him bickering with my grandma from a mile away. They were so loud, it's become a custom. He would teach me to speak in his Fuchou dialect, making huge actions of an elephant, a goat, a snake, asking me what this is, what that is. Like a verbal test. He loved documentaries, and we were taught to say in Fuchou when he forgot to watch his shows, "Oh no, oh no! Grandpa forgot to watch his documentaries!!" He would fall asleep with the TV on and then come evening, he would get up to shower, have dinner and then read the Chinese papers. He has pictures of his grandchildren on his dresser, and every year on my Chinese birthday, he would give me $10 to spend. I know it's not a big amount but to a kid, it was huge. He would exclaim in delight when he sees my modelling shots, saying, "Wow! Yan Yan, so pretty!" And he was proud of me. He watched me on Deal or no Deal while he was bedridden, even though he couldn't even understand the gameshow.
So many things... I want my grandpa to give me verbal tests again, I want him to forget to watch his documentaries so I can remind him. Want him to cook me porridge, even if it's plain.
I really cannot stop crying. One minute I'm fine, the next I'm crying my eyes out. It's a bad time.
"Grandpa, wake up, wake up, please... Time to go for breakfast at the coffee shop... You still have plenty of documentaries to watch, I haven't bought them all from Mustafa for you. Wake up, go cut your hair... Wake up... Gucci wants to see you. Wake up... I want you to see my future achievements, it's too early yet... Wake up and let's go home..."
Korean fashion show casting early this morning. Cab driver pissed me off 'cos he went round and round and when I asked, "Are we back at the same place?", he replied, "No." But I'm not stupid, so do I look like I cannot read "Onan Road" and "Carpmael Road" when they surface again? It was an old Chinese uncle, so I didn't wanna be mean, but yes, I was very irritated. The cab fares only keep increasing, whereas good manners and etiquette just keep decreasing. Whatever.
Saw many girls there. Iko, Jaselin, Andrea, Chez... etc. And girls from big agencies: Phantom, Diva... etc. Made a couple of new friends, including this girl named Precy. She's so sweet. She was on the recent Maxim cover, I think. Client was late... Each of us had to walk down the corridor with the rest of the girls watching from one end and the client sitting and watching too at the other. Very unnerving. I wanted to go home when I saw how perfect some girls were strutting, but there was no other escape route. So the mantra was, "Just whack. Just whack." The client was picky, making us comb and tie up our hair (yes, even my fringe) and shining those bright studio lights that showed every blemish, standing in front of us and scrutinizing our faces, our skin... Conversing in Korean... It was a long casting but I can't complain 'cos I landed the job, along with Andrea and Precy and a few other girls. They told us it's a famous designer's show for Korean hanbok, and if they like us after this show, they'd keep using us. Hanbok is their traditional costume or something... I guess this is somewhat like the Rumah Bebe Peranakan show I did the previous time... Traditions and all. 12 September is the show.
All that aside, I want to talk about my maternal grandpa. Remember when I mentioned back in November last year when my grandpa couldn't walk anymore? And how I cried 'cos he was crying like a baby when I visited him at his home... Yesterday, I went to the hospital with my mum to see him again. For the first time in all the times I'd been to visit him, my heart sank to the bottom of the ground. He wasn't looking good at all, half-dazed and everything. I called him but he wasn't very responsive. My grandma pointed at my mum and asked him if he could recognise her. And he could say her name. He could recognise me as well, said my name, called me Yan Yan. He even managed to tell my grandma she was being naggy again. He kept on asking for water even though the doctor instructed for no food and drinks but relented by allowing the maid to feed him with tiny drops of water from the plastic coffee stirrer.
Today after my casting, Andrea dropped me off at Changi Hospital on the way home. And everything just went downhill from there. Grandpa was unconscious and his lungs were bleeding a little through the tube they put through his nose. My mum started crying and calling him to wake up. He didn't respond at all. I panicked inside, tried to call him and tell him I was there to see him. No response. My grandma started crying too... In my 22 years, it's the first time I've seen my grandma cry. She said she'd been calling him all morning. Even the maid was calling him by his ear so many times, "Ah Gong...! Ah Gong...!", telling him to wake up so we could all go home. All he did was moan once in a blue moon and his face seemed to be in pain. I spent the next 2 hours crying by his bedside, only going out to pick up calls and call Angel 'cos I wanted my grandpa to go to Heaven and I didn't know how to tell him in dialect, not even Hokkien. Angel came down with her mum, they tried to talk to him in Hokkien, whatever they could. We prayed for him and all I can do now is pray too, that he can hear us.
For the first time in more than half a year, I called Kelly. I even thought about asking her to bring Lassie over to my grandpa's place after he's able to be discharged because he loves Lassie, but......... ='( Sometimes I wish I'd never called because all she tells me about is Jesus this and that. I know everything, I know. I just want someone who can speak gospel because I definitely can't, much less in dialect.
Anyway, they shifted my grandpa to a single room in the early evening. I fell asleep by the lobby in my heels and white dress because I was so tired. Went home with my mother at about 5pm, slept a bit and I'm up again. Grandma says she'd call if there's anything. I hope there won't be. I just want him to wake up, that's all. Yesterday he called my name, and today he's unconscious. It was just a day apart... Only a day. He still said he wanted to cut his hair, and I wanted to bring Gucci to see him again.
My dear Grandpa:
My mum gave me this passport-sized picture of my grandpa sometime back. I put it up on my whiteboard. Obviously this was taken when he was well. I had it scanned into my computer. He looks so merry, so happy...
This year's Chinese New Year:
To be honest, ever since he was bedridden, it didn't seem real at that time. Like, I would be walking in the neighbourhood and then happen to see an old man who looked like him at first glance, walking in the distance. At first, I would be tempted to call out to him. But then I would hold back when I realise, "Oh, Grandpa can't walk anymore. Can't be him." And then I would be disappointed.
The previous time I went to the hospital before yesterday, he could laugh and speak okay. I showed him shots of LA from my digital camera, and he was telling me to marry a Chinese man instead of a Caucasian guy in the future. He was fascinated with the video function of the camera, when I played a video of LA scenery for him, saying, "Wow, it's moving! It can move!" It was good to see him smiling. I remember the look on his face when I waved goodbye.
Seeing him on that hospital bed today broke my heart. I couldn't stop crying when I think of him in the past, when he used to be well and happy. We would go to the coffee shop for breakfast with my mother early in the morning. Kaya toast, half-boiled eggs, him coffee, me Milo. How he used to pick me up from primary school when my mum was busy, carrying my school bag... When I was in Secondary 1 or 2, my mum would leave me $3 for lunch before she left for work. But I got my grandpa to cook an extra share of white porridge for me when he cooked his own lunch because I wanted to save my money for Fann Wong's new MTV VCD. For more than a week everyday, I sat next to him at his kitchen table, just eating plain porridge with black soy sauce or canned food. He kept my secret and didn't tell my mother. It was me who confessed after I got the VCD.
Whenever my mum used the cane on me, Grandpa would be my human shield. One time in Primary 4, I was walking home from school with him and my mother. I ran ahead, past a pillar. And behind that pillar was a white and brown stray dog from the nearby garbage dumpster. It came chasing after me when it saw me running. I didn't stop running, but this time I was screaming and crying. Grandpa saved the day and chased the dog away. I remember that.
Whenever I walk over to his place, I would hear him bickering with my grandma from a mile away. They were so loud, it's become a custom. He would teach me to speak in his Fuchou dialect, making huge actions of an elephant, a goat, a snake, asking me what this is, what that is. Like a verbal test. He loved documentaries, and we were taught to say in Fuchou when he forgot to watch his shows, "Oh no, oh no! Grandpa forgot to watch his documentaries!!" He would fall asleep with the TV on and then come evening, he would get up to shower, have dinner and then read the Chinese papers. He has pictures of his grandchildren on his dresser, and every year on my Chinese birthday, he would give me $10 to spend. I know it's not a big amount but to a kid, it was huge. He would exclaim in delight when he sees my modelling shots, saying, "Wow! Yan Yan, so pretty!" And he was proud of me. He watched me on Deal or no Deal while he was bedridden, even though he couldn't even understand the gameshow.
So many things... I want my grandpa to give me verbal tests again, I want him to forget to watch his documentaries so I can remind him. Want him to cook me porridge, even if it's plain.
I really cannot stop crying. One minute I'm fine, the next I'm crying my eyes out. It's a bad time.
"Grandpa, wake up, wake up, please... Time to go for breakfast at the coffee shop... You still have plenty of documentaries to watch, I haven't bought them all from Mustafa for you. Wake up, go cut your hair... Wake up... Gucci wants to see you. Wake up... I want you to see my future achievements, it's too early yet... Wake up and let's go home..."
