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Grandma

My grandmother in Taipei recently passed away. Here's a picture of three generations of women on my mother's side. I'm the girl in red and the only one living. I asked my daughter if she remembered her great grandma, to which she responded no. Just in time for almost-Mother's-Day, it's story time. My grandma, Miss Lin/Mrs. Chen, was an educated woman, a schoolteacher, a loving mother of four, and grandmother of eight. The loving mother part was her downfall, because after the death of her only son, my uncle, her favorite child and a successful doctor, she was never the same. After moving from the U.S. back to Taiwan in fourth grade, I spent a school year with my schoolteacher grandparents in southern Taiwan since I could barely read and write Chinese. Grandma was strict. I had to do endless practice test papers under her tutorlage, and she threw away my favorite blanket, which I had slept with as far back as I remember. She was tough, except when it came to memori

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