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About
Murphy's story about his relationship with me and his other grandmother, Catherine Lam, had been percolating in the back of my mind ever since I told my eldest daughter, his Aunt Lorna, that he was referring to me as "Purple Grandma." Lorna laughed, an expression of awe and wonder on her face. Her reaction mirrored what I had felt when his mother, my daughter Lillian, told me I was now "Purple Grandma."
Murphy had been telling her a story about himself and "Grandma," and she asked which one, "Chinese Grandma or White Grandma?" He looked up at her quizzically, unsure of what she meant. He seized on the idea of colour and exclaimed, "Purple Grandma." Murphy did not know that his grandmothers were Chinese and Caucasian. He only knew that the one thing distinguishing them was my purple coat. And that is how it should be. Two cultures raising a child in two different environments, united by a shared language of love.
Murphy had been telling her a story about himself and "Grandma," and she asked which one, "Chinese Grandma or White Grandma?" He looked up at her quizzically, unsure of what she meant. He seized on the idea of colour and exclaimed, "Purple Grandma." Murphy did not know that his grandmothers were Chinese and Caucasian. He only knew that the one thing distinguishing them was my purple coat. And that is how it should be. Two cultures raising a child in two different environments, united by a shared language of love.