My sister and I grew up with Goon Goon (grandfather in Chinese). My earliest memory, either through memory or from pictures is my obsession with the Sound of Music, picking apples, and making a spinning top out of a round piece of paper and wooden stick at the Boston's Children's Museum.
Those were simple times that at times I wish I could go back to.
There were certain things that I never really understood about Goon Goon, like why he left the plastic bag on the TV remotes, which made channel changing difficult. Or, why he would never let my sister or I use the dumpling wrapper press. Though what I do understand and what I remember clearly, were the countless summers that my sister and I spent with Goon Goon and Popo clocking in hours of America's Most Wanted, Saved by the Bell, and Ace Ventura Pet Detective.
In their condo, number 718, the summers grew hot, and the afternoon sun would heat up their place. The highlight of every summer day was the one or two hours we spent at their pool, where I would sink to the bottom holding my breath, or pretend I was a tug boat pulling up to dock at the pool stairs. When that got boring I would ask Goon Goon for a quarter to dive for. But more often than not, he would take a key off his keyring and hand it to me. I'd throw it into the water and make sure to aim far away from the drains. Diving after it, if I was lucky, I would grab the key before it hit the bottom.
Whenever my hands pruned up, I knew it was time to get out, return the key to Goon Goon, and head back up to the seventh floor.
To this day, every time my eyes burn from the chlorine in pools, I remember Goon Goon and diving after his key.
Exactly 2 years ago, to the day, I received a phone call from my father informing me of his father's passing. In some extraordinary coincidence, both of my grandfather's decided to leave this earth on the same day, just a couple years apart. Goon goon, you will be dearly missed.