Ama

Meet Ama, the matriarch of the family. Isn't she darling? 

Over the past several years of getting to know Li-ling's family, we have had the privilege of being around for two of Ama's extended visits to the United States. Both times I found her incredibly endearing, even if I didn't always understand her mix of Mandarin and Taiwanese. She is confident, resourceful, and kind, and she is always wonderful to my children. In fact, Ama personifies the very reason why people often joke that every child should be blessed with a Chinese ama (an affectionate term for grandmother) in their lives. 

Last year when I was expecting Buggas, Ama was visiting, and she was eager to see him born before she returned to Taiwan. We came really close, even going to hospital one night in what turned out to be disappointing false labor. I was so sad, mostly because we missed a narrow window of the baby getting to cuddle up to Ama. Sigh . . . Fortunately, not long after in response to Ama's continued invitation, we decided we would bring everyone to visit her a year later. When we got here she was ready and waiting, house all scoured, and arms ready to hold Buggas. Though it has taken the baby a bit of time to acclimate to his new environment, he has happily welcomed the spoiling (i.e. constant feeding, children's television, and walks outside) from Ama:

Truth be told, if Ama is around, the baby is not allowed to cry himself to sleep, and she has developed her own system of how to help him get to sleep happily, and has no problem making me aware of how to do this myself. It makes me smile. She is so great. 

But beyond her dynamic with my kids, this time I have come to appreciate Ama as a fellow adult. Her strength, resolve, and wonderful sense of humor are remarkable. She is 77 years old, and yet exercises every day, eats a constant stream of vegetables (she cooks a full Chinese meal at least 2x a day), rides her bikes everywhere she goes, and climbs up and down five flights of stairs multiple times a day. Only recently has she had any health issue to complain of--a leg that is bothering her since she overstrained herself singlehandedly cleaning her entire home, floor to ceiling for the Chinese New Year. Here's a shot of her on her favorite mode of transport en route to the Chinese medical doctor:

In the evenings as things slow down a bit, and the kids are all off to bed, I really love talking to Ama. I am amazed by her history. To give you a better appreciation of her special connection to the past, below is a photograph of Ama with her grandmother, parents, and brothers. They sit in front of her family's traditional four-generation home. She is pictured on her mother's lap, and if you look closely you can see her grandmother's bound feet as that same grandmother was a part of the last generation to actually follow the diabolically painful practice. (Note: I apologize for the rough photograph, but I just snapped a quick shot off of Ama's laminated copy):

Though it looks like an idyllic picture of a well-educated Taiwanese family, truth is that the photograph was taken right before Ama's mother passed her onto her great aunt's family to be raised by them. Apparently her mother had given birth to two baby girls before, but had lost both of them in infancy. When Ama was finally born, her mother felt that her history indicated that she was unworthy of being able to raise a girl, and that she really must pass the baby on, lest the baby die like the others . . . So devastating, and yet, it didn't end there. 

The relatives who raised Ama were terribly unkind to her, and suffered so much that she refuses to talk about it to this day. When Ama looks back on her life, she wishes desperately that her own mother had been willing to raise her, as she feels like this was the beginning of a terrible trajectory for the rest of her life. It was the reason she never received more than an elementary education, why she ended up in a doomed marriage, why she struggled so much financially that she had to make the heart-rending decision of having to split up her own four children amongst other relatives for a time. Then, as if that wasn't difficult enough, she lost both of her sons within three months of each other, one from cancer, and one from some sort of accident while in the military. 

When I stop to think about the pain Ama has suffered emotionally I am amazed by how resilient she is. When you talk to her you don't sense any anger or self-pity. Rather, she possesses a graceful resignation to her circumstances, determined to do good and be good with those around her. The woman is incredibly popular--every day there are friends who stop in to check in on her and bring by food. 

Personally, I can fully understand why so many people love her. I love to absorb the wisdom she has gained from her difficulties, and the decorum with which she carries herself despite them. My time with her has become one the most beneficial dimensions of our time here, and I know we will miss her dearly when we return. 

Ama has affectionately given Buggas a new nickname, which everyone in the neighborhood laughs at every time. There is a popular Japanese cartoon character here, named Yi Xiu (pronounced "Ee - show"). He is apparently a little child monk and is completely bald, (a sure resemblance). Every time Ama yells out his nickname, she has trained him to throw up his hand up to the air in salute. It's hilarious. :)