A Recipe for Heroism

A Recipe for Heroism

There are so many people who are inspirational, loving, and supportive enough to be called a “hero” in my life. None, however, can measure the standard of heroism that my grandmother, Yuat Moy, has set. There is not a single person in my life that has shown more love, devotion, and compassion that my grandmother has for her family and those that she loves.


My grandmother was born in the early 1920’s in southern China. After fleeing to Hong Kong after the Japanese invasion of China, my grandmother moved to the United States where she eventually became the single mother of my own mother after the death of my grandfather. My grandmother worked for decades at minimum wage jobs to support her family. When I was born, she retired to take care of me so that my parents could return to work.


Being raised by my grandmother in my family was like having a second mother to turn to. Although I foolishly may not have always appreciated all she has done for me, my life has been positively changed by her presence, love, and care. After my grandmother’s cancer, surgery, and onset of mental disorder several years ago, it became my turn to reciprocate the care she gave me by becoming one of her primary caregivers.


Many often ask why I care for my grandmother so much. If the answer is not that obvious, it is very simple. For someone to show so much love, concern, care and emotion for me, it is the least I can do to show care for her. Heroism is not a state of aggression or feats of strength. It is empathy, with a healthy dose of humility, and a pinch of compassion for others, and I know of no one who carries these ingredients as well as my grandmother does. 


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