By Beth and Deb Liu
Tiger Cub
Every Thanksgiving, my siblings and I each draw a “What I’m Thankful For…” illustration. I always end up drawing portraits of our family. Though the older I get, the worse they get. This year the people didn’t even have faces.
Normally, I begin drawing a few days before Thanksgiving so that I have time to refine my art. But this year was different. I began drawing on Thanksgiving day. Unlike most years, I never really got into the holiday spirit. Had it not been for my vested interest in getting pumpkin pie, I wouldn’t have even known when the day came.
Thanksgiving was that one day during break that I looked forward to. My grandparents would come over for dinner and we would all get to eat delicious food together. They would always bring 糯米饭 and other Chinese classics and we would bring turkey and maybe a questionable side dish or two. But this year was different, Thanksgiving could’ve passed and I would not have spared it a thought but for the nearing end of break. Without Yeye, Nainai, and Popo around to celebrate with us, Thanksgiving feels like just another day. We ended up going out to Popo’s favorite Chinese restaurant to eat my siblings’ beloved peking duck.
It feels different celebrating the holidays without my grandparents. My idea of Thanksgiving is twenty percent pilgrims with hats, turkeys, and thankfulness and eighty percent getting to spend time and eat homemade food with family. This year, it felt like none of that. Without that eighty percent, the twenty percent barely existed. I’m writing this article before Christmas, and I am even more scared to know what that holiday will be like without them.
Tiger Mom
This is our first holiday without any of your grandparents. It has been such a crazy year that I’m not even sure we had a chance to breathe much less to grieve. Around the holidays the house seems so empty without them here.
We each grieve in our own ways. David and I have had to go through a lifetime of things for our parents over the last few months. The endless piles of paperwork to go to probate, and the tangled mess that is their financial situation adds to the sadness and frustration. Rather than remember them with joy, we are unwinding their lives in over a hundred boxes and an avalanche of mail.
I try to keep their memories alive by cooking their favorite recipes. But it makes me sad to not have the you kids want to talk about them. As we prepare to move, we have to make a decision on what to do with all of their things, especially their photos.
We’ve put aside their photos to be hung up in the new house. But I wonder how the three of you will feel walking by their images everyday.
Tiger Cub
I want to keep their memory alive just as much as you do. I don’t mind talking about them, but I feel like there is a time and place. Most of the time you bring them up out of the blue. When they get mentioned, I feel really sad, and it’s hard for me to talk about them without acknowledging their passing.
Sometimes I see their car in the driveway and get really happy, thinking that they’ve come to visit us. Then I remember that dad inherited their car after their passing and that they’re never coming to visit again.
It’s even harder for me when we have to decide what to do with their stuff. Some time ago, you had some of their blankets in cardboard boxes out on the driveway to be donated and you asked me if I wanted any of it. It was hard to stop myself from taking all of it, and I ended up keeping one blanket. I don’t do anything with that blanket and you were probably right to donate it, but the idea makes me sad. When you donate their stuff it feels like we’re forgetting little parts of them. My memory in general is atrocious and it’s through these little things that I can keep their memory alive. It makes me sad when I can barely recall if I made 韭菜盒 with Nainai or if I can barely remember stealing pieces of 葱油饼 from Yeye as he cooked. It hurts to know that I might forget about Popo’s comforting presence at the dinner table. I’m scared that one day I’ll have nothing left to remember them with.
Tiger Mom
Deep in my mind, I feel like they’re still here. They’re with us and the food that we eat, the kitchenware we inherited from them, and the traditions that we follow. I find myself editing to ensure that I don’t upset any of you by not talking about them.
I didn’t get a chance to know my grandparents that well. They lived in Hong Kong far away from our small town in South Carolina. The worlds we inhabited were so far away and other ways too. We spoke a different language and lived in a different culture altogether. I don’t know that they understood my life, and I had a hard time relating to theirs. That is why I wanted all of you to grow up close to your grandparents
Tiger Cub
I’m so happy that I got the chance to know my grandparents. It means a lot that I got to live with Popo, that we could have Yeye and Nainai over for dinner every night. But when you talk about them, it makes me really really sad. Especially when you mention them in the context of the house we were building to live in with them. It reminds me of their loss in a very present way. We were originally supposed to have eight people in that house, but when I go off to college, it will just be you, Dad, and Danielle in that massive home. I had been looking forward to having them in our house all the time instead of just once a week. I wanted the opportunity to ask them questions and talk to them, to practice my Chinese with them and just get to spend time with them, but now it’s just going to be us, in an empty home. I’ve been doing better with talking about them recently, but it’s still painful at times. I’ll try to make an effort to speak about them more so that you can feel more comfortable talking with me. I know that we’ll carry their memories into the new house with us, but it will also always feel as if something is missing.
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