Commentary: How To Make Millions Before Grandma Dies reminds us of what truly matters (2024)

SINGAPORE: If you haven’t watched How To Make Millions Before Grandma Dies yet, please do so. Better yet, bring the whole family. Book a seven-seater MPV (or two if you are lucky enough to have a large multigenerational family) to fit in your kids, parents, grandparents and their wheelchairs as well.

“Inspired by true stories found in every family”, the Thai drama follows self-absorbed, f*ckless university dropout M (Putthipong Assaratanakul), who volunteers to move in with his grandmother (Usha Seamkhum) after she is diagnosed with late-stage cancer. Ostensibly, it’s to take care of her, but M’s real motive is to get Amah to bequeath her house to him.

M’s fumbling attempts to win over his cantankerous grandmother are initially met with resistance, but over time and as her health takes a turn for the worse, his greedy self-interest and her suspiciousness of him give way to mutual trust, affection and understanding even as complicated relational dynamics play out between them and among other family members.

Hilarious in parts, profoundly moving in others, and painfully real, the movie had cinemagoers dabbing away tears, sniffling into tissues, and even bursting into uncontrollable sobs.

REGRETS OF A SULKY TEEN

Being Teochew-Chinese like M, I recall how sulky and resentful I had felt as a teenager at being dragged along to mosquito-infested cemeteries during the annual Qing Ming tomb-sweeping festival, or having to participate in what I felt were archaic, superstitious rituals at my paternal grandmother’s funeral.

Now that I’m older, I wish I’d realised then that those occasions were for the family to come together and honour our ancestors and cultural heritage. I wish I’d adopted an attitude of respectful curiosity and taken the opportunity to ask about our long-departed relatives, their lives and the meanings behind those customary practices.

I am also not proud of myself as I recount this: When I was 19, my maternal grandmother, who had always been nothing but sweet and loving towards everyone, misplaced an expensive watch and some jewellery, and accused me of stealing them.

I got so upset that I rudely said: “Why should I bother stealing from you, when all I need to do is wait for you to die to inherit your stuff?” and halted my weekly visits.

She called a month later to say that she had found the missing items (they’d fallen into the gap between her dresser and bedroom wall), asked why I hadn't visited for so long, then invited me over for dinner because she was making ayam buah keluak “with plenty for you to tapow back to hostel”.

Just like that, it was water under the bridge, and we resumed our chats about her favourite topics - Channel 8 period dramas, Fann Wong, and fashion. She relished talking about the clothes and hairstyles she used to wear, and how the nail polish or lipstick I was sporting was the same shade she had 40 years ago.

FAMILIES ARE MESSY

How To Make Millions Before Grandma Dies touches on universal interfamilial issues almost anyone can relate to, such as sibling rivalry, favouritism, and judgments about who’s more filial or successful.

M’s oldest uncle lives far away with his wife and young daughter, and has to pay for his posh house and his daughter’s international school fees; M’s mum is a single parent with a humble supermarket job; M’s youngest uncle is unemployed and up to his neck in debt.

The tension between filial piety and personal commitments is laid bare, especially when elderly relatives become increasingly frail and need help with daily activities such as showering, or frequent hospital visits.

As M’s coolly cynical cousin Mui points out, what old people need most, is what their children can’t give them - time.

It’s something that Singapore’s sandwich generation, typically aged between 35 and 59, relate to as they juggle caring for their children and ageing parents, while holding down jobs, keeping their homes in order, carving out time for self-care and maintaining some semblance of a social life.

The movie also highlights the challenges adult children face, and the potential for disagreement among siblings, when deciding how best to approach the care of ailing parents.

Should the elderly be kept informed, or shielded from certain hard truths such as how many weeks or months they’ve got left to live? Are they better off ageing in place, moving into a relative’s home (if so, which one?), or being admitted into a nursing home?

The movie is the perfect springboard to discuss these important issues as a family. More importantly, it’s a reminder that old folks value time with their adult children and their grandchildren. And since time is what grandchildren have more of compared to their sandwiched parents, maybe Gen Z can step away from their computers and mobile phones and step up.

TIME ONCE GONE, IS LOST FOREVER

As M showed, seemingly vast intergenerational gaps can be bridged by spending time patiently getting to know a grandparent. Ask what help they need, then offer it - whether it’s heavy lifting, a grocery run or IT support.

Learn a few words or phrases of the language or dialect they are most comfortable speaking. Ask them about their past, and you might uncover some precious gems about them, your family history or what you were like as a baby.

Show affection through your tone of voice or the touch of your hand. Reminisce together about the ordinary or special childhood moments you shared when they were younger and more active. Did they take you to kindergarten, a favourite mee pok stall that no longer exists, or even on overseas holidays?

Tell them about your dreams and plans, and yes, maybe even treat them to LOL moments by using selfie-editing apps like Meitu and BeautyCam on them.

Sit and watch the tele or Netflix together, whether it’s a nature documentary, cooking show, TV series or even some silly reality show, and chat throughout.

In the movie, M’s cousin Mui mentions how she spent so much time taking care of her grandfather and changing his adult diapers that she no longer noticed the odours. This struck a guilty chord with me and reminded me of my maternal grandfather, who had a colostomy due to colon cancer.

As an immature, self-absorbed teen, I was put off by the strange gurgles and smells from grandpa’s stoma. Combined with his increasingly foul temper (which I didn’t realise then was due to the pain and difficulty of dealing with cancer) and a reignited passion for Teochew opera played at loud volumes, I found it easier to keep my distance.

I regret that now.

Just as you might your think your grandparents smell weird, they might find your tattoos, extreme nail art, floppy mop top hairstyle, bleached hair or oversized Crocs strange too.

Let’s face it, our ageing parents and grandparents won’t be around forever. They understand that their children and grandchildren are busy juggling work, school, relationships and life, and they wish for us to succeed and be happy.

But surely, we can all spare a little more time for the ones who breathed life and love into us, so that even after they're gone, we're filled with fond memories instead of bitter regret.

Tracy Lee is a freelance lifestyle writer based in Singapore.