A Few Stories of My Grandma

A Night of Stories

My grandma, Xin Zhao (赵欣), passed away on March 8, 2022, at the age of 93.

To be honest, despite her constant kindness towards me, I knew very little about her life as I was growing up. When I was in college, my grandpa passed away, and my grandma moved to the US. From that point on, our chances to meet became scarce.

However, one night, shortly after my grandpa’s funeral and before she moved abroad, I sat with my grandma for a vigil. As we awaited my grandpa’s spirit to return home, she began to share stories about her life. The tales that follow are what I heard that night.

Early Life

My grandma grew up in a village in Langzhong County (阆中县), located in northern Sichuan province. These were the years of the Sino-Japanese War (1937-1945). Langzhong was a considerable distance from the front lines, but that didn’t stop it from being bombed repeatedly by Japanese aircraft¹. As a young girl, my grandma once witnessed the body of a farmer who had been killed in an air raid, lying motionless on a road. I could hear the anger in her voice as she recounted this tragic event.

There was, however, one unexpected benefit from these air raids. A middle school in Langzhong was evacuated to her village. The wife of one of the middle school teachers, a well-educated woman in her own right, established an elementary school in my grandma’s village. This opportunity allowed my grandma to receive an education, marking a significant turning point in her life.

Later, her father, who was quite progressive for his time, sent my grandma and her older sister to a middle school in the city of Longzhong. They both studied hard, did well, and eventually became elementary school teachers upon graduation. By that time, my grandma had accomplished more than most women in China could have dreamed of during that period. But, as it turned out, her journey into the wider world was only just beginning.

Marriage with My Grandpa

My grandpa, Xiangrong Cai (蔡向荣), was also from Langzhong. As a teenager, he left a comfortable home behind to join the Chinese Communist Party and fight against the Japanese invaders. After surviving both the Sino-Japanese War and the Liberation War, he returned to Langzhong and enlisted the help of his sister to find him a potential wife. Her sister, who had been my grandma’s teacher, recommended this marriage to her. Despite having never met my grandpa, my grandma agreed.

Consequently, my grandma and her mother embarked on a journey from Langzhong to Xi’an (西安), where my grandpa was stationed. Today, high-speed trains can cover this distance in about three hours. However, back then, the roads from Sichuan to Xi’an were perilous, making the journey several days long by bus.

Much to her surprise, when they finally met, my grandpa was not fond of her and attempted to call off the engagement. Allegedly, this was because he thought she was a bit too short to be his ideal wife. Naturally, after enduring such a grueling journey with hopes of starting a new life, this must have been a tremendous disappointment for my grandma. Yet, she pulled herself together and said to my grandpa,

“It’s fine if you don’t want to marry me. But please help me find a job in Xi’an, and I will take care of myself and my mom. Everyone back home knows that I’m supposed to marry you; I can’t go back like this.”

To this day, I still recall the gentle courage in her voice as she recounted these words that night.

Perhaps it was her resilience that eventually won my grandpa over. They did end up getting married, and their union lasted 53 years, right up until the day my grandpa passed away.

A New Career

After marrying my grandfather, my grandma enrolled at the Fourth Military Medical University². She later became part of the first generation of doctors in the People’s Republic of China to receive modern medical training.

Such doctors were rare in China at the time. Therefore, even though she hadn’t received surgical training, a colleague tried to teach her how to perform minor surgeries. My grandma recalled, with amusement, that her hands were too delicate to make incisions in a patient’s skin. As a result, she remained an internist until her retirement.

During the Korean War, some injured soldiers were sent to her hospital for treatment. Among them was a paraplegic soldier who often distressed the medical staff with his anger. “But when it was my turn to take care of him, he never yelled at me,” my grandma said with pride. This is the only instance I can recall my grandma boasting about something she had done.

Legacy

After my grandma’s funeral, I visited her youngest brother, who was too frail to attend the ceremony. As we reminisced about my grandmother, he told me,

“I still remember when I was young, she would buy me books and encourage me to educate myself. Our generation lived through some really hard times. But no matter how difficult things got, your grandma always strove to improve herself and her situation. I’ve always admired her for that.”

I’m not a believer in afterlives or reincarnation. I only know the world of flesh and bones. But when I think of my grandma, I’m certain that she lives on — not as some supernatural entity, but as our shared memories and inspirations. That is her enduring legacy.