Adopted Grandma

I learned a few days ago my grandmother on my Mom's side was adopted.
Crazy. She's the lady who lived into 90's. I met her once. She was loud and naggy, like my Mom. She came to the U.S. with my grandfather, who spoke zero English and chain-smoked Camels (his favorite brand). I'd sit in the kitchen quietly watching him smoke. He'd just keep smoking. Not too concern about the words making (fuck you, "Dances With Wolves"). He's also the one who sipped brandy and offered me some. Nice moment.

Grandma was the talker. She was energetic and loud. She has the same hoarsed voice our family shares. Maybe lung issue, who knows. It's wheezy. Upon meeting her, she demanded I cut my hair and gain some weight. "This the guy?" is all I could understand. The Taiwanese have this thing, where if they don't understand you they respond with "oh really." Americans have it in saying "right." I think it's a polite thing to do, considering how awful my language skills are. Most likely it's people's way of telling you to shut up.

Looking back now, it's pretty amazing...adopting a girl in any Asian culture is insane. The fact that she lived as long as she did (through war) is even crazier. I was fortunate to have met her. Though, I'm not really the sentimental type these days, I understand the importance of family (which seems to be a running theme in most projects I do).

I also don't pry too deeply into genealogy. My oldest sister loves that stuff. The stories you can pass down from generation to generation seems to be important to her. I understand, it sort of fills in the gaps of our own behavior.

This revelation of a grandmother who is adopted must be how some people feel when they learn they had a Native American in their family. Kinda' cool.