My Grandfather's Legacy

I've read stories of grandfathers who were super cool and indulging. I've heard stories of cherished memories of grandparents who have left an imprint in their grandchildren's heart, and someone that they can run to when mom and dad decides to wield the cane. The word "grandad' itself, associates with love, compassion, smell of prunes or tobacco, and a wrinkly old teddy bear.

My one and only living grandfather that I have, bears none of the above traits, except that he is also old and wrinkly. For as long as I can remember, my grandfather was a disciplinarian, or rather, someone who was nonchalant. While his children reminisce about their father in his younger days, I couldn't help but notice the blind love and fillial piety they have for him, despite the fact that he was not a very good husband or father. But if there was one thing he did right, it is to father 11 children who worshiped the ground he walked on, and love him unconditionally.

My earliest recollection of my grandfather, was him giving me a whack on my back, over a christmas present that I was fighting with my cousin for. (the present was mine, and my cousin took it). I was too young to have my feelings hurt. Although he never sat me on his knee and told me stories, i have good memories of him. Like how when I used to visit during school holidays, he would buy always me chicken rice on his way back from town (only for me, not even for my mom and dad) and the nursery rhymes he composed which he taught every me and every one of my cousins. He was never affectionate, he never communicated with us much, other than grunts and sighs, but he was a legacy.

My grandfather was a a teacher his entire life. He not only taught at the local town school, he also taught at the local town kindergarden, and  taught tuition at home. He spent most of his life in Mersing, a small town by the sea, so almost every person in Mersing, was taught by him at some point of their lives. He has been a mentor to almost everyone in that town.

When I pass my business card around, people either stare at my card for a few reasons. They are either shocked by the fact that I am not the race they thought i was, or either, my surname brought back memories. As a part of the only eurasian Murray family in Malaysia, if you know another Murray, he/she is definitely related to me. A few days back when i passed my name card at at event. And two men walked up to me and told me that they were students of my grandfather. The recollected the time he used to carry around the big fat "rotan" and told me how my grandfather had changed their lives. For the first time, I was ashamed to have thought that there was nothing great about my grandfather all these while. My grandfather, is a living legacy.

At 102 years old this year, my grandfather might have lost his memory, and find difficulty in moving around independently, but he is still a vivid memory of the many lives that he had touched and changed through his unfailing role and passion to teach.

He might not have been the perfect father, or the typical grandfather, but he left us something greater, a legacy where our family name, was associate with greatness, compassion and dedicated servitude.