From the grandson — Gritting our teeth to build a dream

I once suggested Gritting Our Teeth to Build a Dream as the title for Grandma’s memoir.

In her recollections, in the post-war era when everything had to be rebuilt from ruin, she and Grandpa — who had left home in troubled times and started from nothing — worked together, gritted their teeth through every test the world threw at them, and in a materially hard life created a noble spiritual life: good to neighbours, upright and honest. For me as a grandchild, that was a model of character worth more than gold.

Reading the memoir, I see Grandpa and Grandma’s strength and tenderness, and understand that the goodness in people’s hearts cannot be stripped away by outward pressure; the force of life cannot be extinguished by outward adversity.

I also think of quiet Grandpa, whose feelings never became words yet were still part of “gritting our teeth to build a dream.” Once when I was chatting with him and asked whether he was glad when cross-strait family visits opened, he said: “Glad? What’s there to be glad about. My parents are gone — what’s there to be glad about?” Those few words still bring tears whenever I recall them.

Indeed — how much more than the mood of “left young, returned old, accent unchanged but temples grey” did Grandpa and Grandma weather that we, decades later, can barely grasp?

I believe Grandma’s memoir is a treasure that passes on life’s faith and strength, so we can meet the challenges of another age with love and courage, and carry the light of love forward: in fair weather, cherish blessings and give thanks; in hard weather, grit our teeth and build a dream — like our grandparents.

Zonghao (grandson)

Spring of the Republic year 101, written at Zhinan Mountain