Author: Lim Rui Hong
Maternal grandmother
I do not remember her well. She stay close to Commonwealth MRT Station. We have to take the stairs up to her second storey flat. I still remembered the old style metal grill gate that makes it hard to knock doors. I still recall the old sewing machine parked against one wall, opposite the sofa set and television. There would be a small area close to the telephone where there is a stack of A6 papers. The kitchen is small, with no dining area. The toilet is s squatting toilet with floors slopping inwards.
She would cook salted vegetables or sew pyjamas bottoms for us.
There would be an occasion that we went over as a family to her flat, for her to sew pyjamas bottoms for me and my older brother. I was bored, ended playing with the A6 papers, folding aeroplanes. My Mother scolded me, to sit still while my grandmother finished the pyjamas.
It turned out to be the last memory of her.
Thinking about her now, I do regret not trying to talk to her more, understand her more; I find her the best among the grandparents I have.