Grandparents are supposed to be loveable. For the longest time, I wasn't sure whether my grandfather was. Sure, he has always been a man of character, but more often stoic than not. This left him--at least in my eyes--rather inapproachable. He was seldom short on words of wisdom. When my brother brought his girlfriend to meet family a few years ago, my grandfather sat him down and sternly reminded him of the importance of new underwear. Yes, that kind of wisdom.

For me, the emotional bond with him always seemed to be tenuous. I remember when I first moved to Hong Kong, my father would encourage me to go on walks with him. I always dreaded this because I never knew what to say. And so I listened. Most of the time, all that came out of my mouth was the occasional utterance of assent, a thoughtful "mmm..." as I listened to him speak and waited for the walk to end. There was no real connection.

Many years have past since my last walk with him. Schoolwork eventually became the most convenient excuse; since then, his confinement to a wheelchair has ensured that I will never walk with him again. Parkinson's disease has joined up with old age in ravaging his capacity to communicate. While I believe he is still wise, his words are few and slurred. As I saw him this time, I wept inside. It hurt to see him propped up in his hospital bed with tubes up his nose, his mind--peering out through vacant eyes--trapped behind a face that could not hide his years. To get from bed to wheelchair, he was slung over the helper's shoulder and plopped into place. Few movements were his own anymore.

I gently yelled in his ear explaining who I was. At first he didn't remember me but I didn't mind. Eventually, he understood that I was in the States for school and that I was visiting him. I asked him how he felt and he replied, "冇乜o野 (Things are ok)." I asked him whether he was warm enough and he said he was. I asked him if he was tired and he said he was. But he smiled at some point and I think that it was at then I realized how loveable he really is and how much I love him. He was placed back in bed, worn out from just sitting in his wheelchair. My cousin warmed his hands while I warmed his feet; he fell asleep in no time.

Loving someone requires no words--just a genuine connection on some deeper level. All these years, I had let words get in the way. I worried about how poor my Chinese is. I worried that he had no idea what I was talking about when I said stuff. And all I really had to do was just care for him and let feelings be evident. He has always tried to counsel and I guess that was just his way of showing love. I'm glad I finally got it. I will miss my grandfather a lot when I am in the States.