Tai Chew Music Club is named after my late grandpa, Wong Tai Chew (I call him ‘Gong Gong’). Gong Gong passed away in 2011, after a two-year struggle with renal failure. In that time, he had been in and out of the hospital, often with the bleakest of chances to get out. During one of those admissions, it looked like all options were exhausted. The doctor told us it wouldn’t be long before he crossed over to the other side.

The doctor then transferred Gong Gong out of the ward into another room, took off all the drips that fed his medicine, and called for the family. “His heart will slow down and eventually stop,” he prepared us.

So, we steeled ourselves and took turns to keep vigil. Most times, we just hung around his bed, remembering stuff about him, speaking to him as he laid there, comatose. We had a small speaker with us, playing old Chinese classics to fill up the silence and, as much as the situation allowed, lighten the mood. The songs reminded me of my time growing up in Commonwealth Crescent. There were eight of us living in a three-room flat there, including my grandpa and grandma. Those songs took me right back to that flat.

Anyway, one night became three. Before we knew it, five nights had passed. On that night, as uncertainty crept into the family discussion, we cranked the volume up a little on the tiny speaker in his room. I can’t remember why we did it. Maybe it was to get Gong Gong’s attention? To ‘wake him up’ if it wasn’t yet his time?

And it worked. The playlist cued up ‘往事只能回味’ ‘Wang Shi Zhi Neng Hui Wei’, a jaunty classic with oddly contrasting lyrics about longing for old times (the title translates to ‘The Past Can Only Be Reminisced’).

There must have been something in the song’s sharp and lilting stop-start intro that found its way into Gong Gong’s consciousness and caused his eyelids to fly open. This must be what people call the magic of music.

After this, Gong Gong would slip in and out of consciousness many more times. Eventually, the family decided to take him home to spend his last days. Little did we know, it would only be many months later – not days as the doctor had thought – that my grandpa bid his farewell.

Since then, I’ve wanted to have a go at ‘往事只能回味’. I’ve always known the song. It is an evergreen classic, but now, my grandpa had painted it richly with meaning and memories. So, here it is. This one’s for you, Gong Gong. I hope you like it. Till we meet again.