From Great-Grandmother to Great-Grandchildren: A Bridge of Four Generations

Six months had passed since our last visit to my see mother-in-law in April this year (Read here). Our recent trip to Batu Pahat, from 9 to 13 October 2025, was made more special as we were joined by Sam and his family from Singapore.

This visit held particular significance because it marked the first meeting between Maddie, my youngest granddaughter, and her great-grandmother. For Livvie, it was a joyful reunion - her second encounter since their first meeting in November 2018.

When Livvie and Maddie were brought to the care home on the morning of 11 October 2025, my mother-in-law’s face lit up with recognition. The moment she saw Livvie, she exclaimed in Chinese, “She is my old friend!” Clearly, she still remembered their meeting seven years ago in Kuala Lumpur, when Sam’s family visited their cousins there.

As for Maddie, the moment was simple yet touching - a gentle handshake marked their very first meeting, bridging generations in a tender gesture of connection.

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Livvie seemed to share a special bond with her great-grandmother. Even during their first meeting in 2018, at mealtime, she insisted on being fed by her great-grandmother - a touching gesture that reflected their instant connection. Back then, my mother-in-law was still physically strong enough to carry and cuddle her great-granddaughter with ease. Now, though age has taken away that strength, the affection between them remains unchanged - felt deeply through smiles, gentle touches, and unspoken warmth.

Photos taken on 11.11.2018.

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Before leaving for Singapore, they made one last visit to say good-bye - a quiet farewell that spoke volumes about the bond between generations.

A Brief Journey into Sri Gading's Roots

In March 2024, when Sam and his family visited Kota Kinabalu, I took my granddaughter, Livvie, for a short walk along the old track that once led to my childhood home - a modest house nestled in a quiet valley beside Jalan Istana ((Read here). It was a simple walk, yet deeply meaningful, as I retraced the same path my younger self once took daily, now hand in hand with the next generation.

Then, on 11.10.2025, Livvie, her sister Maddie, their parents and grandparents (I and my wife) visited the old family house in Sri Gading - the place where my wife spent her own childhood before moving to Sabah in 1979. Standing once again before that familiar house, they could sense the echoes of family stories and memories that have spanned decades and crossed states - a bridge between past and present.

If there is one object that best captures the essence and significance of this house, it would be the old swing beneath the roof overhang just outside the main door. That swing has silently witnessed the passage of time - from the laughter of Gen Y children to the conversations of forty-something adults reminiscing about their youth. Now, with the newest members of the family, Livvie and Maddie, joyfully taking their turns on it, another beautiful cycle has come full circle. It feels especially poignant knowing that their father once played on the very same swing some forty one years ago in 1984 and a couple of times more in subsequent visits to Sri Gading - a simple yet powerful reminder of how this home continues to hold the threads of family, memory, and continuity across generations (Read here). 

Seeing Livvie and Maddie playing on the swing, I couldn’t help but recall an old photograph taken in July 1984 - at this very same spot - when their father was just a year and a half old. The image of him on the swing four decades ago, now mirrored by his daughters’ laughter, beautifully captures the passage of time and the enduring spirit of family across generations.

Another cherished photograph, taken in February 1990 in front of the main door, captures Livvie and Maddie’s father at seven years old. Seated beside him are his cousin Tai Tai and his younger brother, Paul. The image - three children frozen in time - beautifully preserves their carefree smiles, a timeless reflection of childhood innocence and the enduring family bonds that continue to unite them today.

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Inside the old house.

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When Paul and Junshi visited Sri Gading in November 2017 to attend my mother-in-law’s 87th birthday celebration, they were also brought to see the canal that runs alongside Jalan Sri Gading (Read here). It has long been a family tradition to take first-time visitors to this small but historically significant canal.

The surrounding area was once part of a thriving agricultural landscape dominated by rubber plantations. During the early to mid-20th century, when road infrastructure was still limited, the area was interlaced with small canals and drainage channels, known locally as parit, which served both as irrigation systems and minor transport routes. This canal was once used by small boats to transport rubber sheets from local plantations to the main river. Over time, as roads improved and lorries replaced boats, the use of these canals for transport declined. 

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Another must-see landmark in Sri Gading is the road sign for Jalan Lim Kheng Siang, a street named in honor of my father-in-law. Erected by the roadside, the signboard serves as a lasting tribute to his years of service to the local community. From the 1950s through the 1980s, he was a respected community leader, remembered for his integrity and commitment to public welfare. During that period, he served as the Chairman of the Sri Gading Local Council. His name on the signboard today stands as both a historical marker and a symbol of gratitude from the community he once served.

An old photo taken on 21.12.1958 captures the opening of the local Council office premise. My father-in-law, a tall man is seated in the center of the front row.

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That particular Saturday when we visited Sri Gading happened to coincide with the local open market day. It was the perfect opportunity for them to experience the vibrant atmosphere of a traditional rural Malaysian marketplace - where local farmers and vendors sold fresh produce, homemade delicacies, and everyday goods. The lively chatter, colorful stalls, and aroma of freshly cooked food offered an authentic glimpse into the daily lives and warm community spirit of the local people.

Winter Palace and Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg

Our tour of Russia concluded with a visit to the State Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg on the morning of 18.09.2025 (Day 7). The Hermitage Museum stands as one of the most magnificent cultural landmarks in the world. Originally conceived as the Winter Palace, it was built between 1754 and 1762 under the reign of Empress Elizabeth, daughter of Peter the Great. Designed as the official royal residence of the Russian tsars, the Winter Palace epitomized the power, wealth, and grandeur of the Russian Empire.

The palace was constructed in the Russian Baroque style, characterized by elaborate ornamentation, gilded stucco decorations, and a striking façade of green and white accented with gold. Its design embodied opulence, featuring immense halls, grand staircases, and richly adorned chambers suitable for imperial ceremonies. Over time, as the art collection of the Russian court expanded - particularly under Catherine the Great - additional buildings were added to form what is now the State Hermitage Museum. These included the Small Hermitage (1764–1775), Old Hermitage (1770–1787), Hermitage Theatre (1783–1787), and the New Hermitage (1842–1851). Later structures incorporated elements of Neoclassicism alongside the earlier Baroque grandeur.

Today, the Hermitage complex consists of five interconnected buildings, together forming one of the world’s largest and oldest museums. The Winter Palace alone contains approximately 1,500 rooms, 117 staircases, and covers over 46,000 square meters. Its vast galleries house masterpieces by artists such as Rembrandt, Leonardo da Vinci, and Michelangelo, reflecting Catherine the Great’s ambition to make Russia a center of European art and culture.

Following the Russian Revolution of 1917, the Winter Palace ceased to serve as a royal residence and was transformed into a public museum, preserving centuries of Russian imperial history. The Hermitage’s architectural harmony, combining Baroque splendor with Classical refinement, continues to embody both the artistic vision of its creators and the enduring spirit of Russian culture.

The Small Throne Room, also known as the Peter the Great Throne Room, was designed during the reign of Emperor Nicholas I to honor Peter the Great, the founder of St. Petersburg and the Russian Empire’s new capital. Lavishly adorned in red velvet, gilded ornaments, and white marble columns, the room exudes imperial grandeur. Its domed ceiling features exquisite stucco reliefs and gold motifs, while the intricately patterned parquet floor, crafted from rare woods, enhances the hall’s majestic atmosphere.

At the center stands a magnificent gilded throne, upholstered in red velvet and embroidered with the imperial double-headed eagle, symbolizing the authority of the Romanov dynasty. Above it hangs a portrait of Peter the Great, highlighting the room’s commemorative purpose. Historically, this hall hosted ceremonial audiences, receptions, and state functions honoring Russia’s first emperor. It remains a powerful testament to the Romanovs’ reverence for Peter the Great and to the artistic splendor of the imperial era.

The vast collection of marble sculptures in the State Hermitage Museum immediately reminded me of the grand displays I had seen at the Louvre Museum in Paris during my visit in 2014. Walking through the Hermitage’s sculpture galleries, surrounded by graceful figures carved from luminous white marble, I was struck by the same timeless beauty and serene dignity that define classical art.

Like the Louvre, the Hermitage presents an extraordinary journey through the evolution of European sculpture - from the mythological ideals of ancient Greece and Rome to the refined artistry of the Renaissance and Neoclassical periods. Each piece seems to breathe life into stone, capturing movement, emotion, and human perfection (Read here).

One of the most striking exhibits in the State Hermitage Museum is the monumental Kolyvan Vase, often called the “Queen of Vases.” Crafted from a single massive block of jasper quarried in the Altai Mountains of Siberia, this masterpiece was completed in 1843 at the renowned Kolyvan Stone-Cutting Factory. Measuring over 2.5 m high, 5 m in diameter, and weighing around 19 tons, it is one of the largest stone vases in the world.

Designed in the classical Greco-Roman style, the vase resembles an enormous chalice, yet its smooth contours and perfect symmetry reveal extraordinary craftsmanship. The swirling green and gray patterns of the polished jasper give it a natural elegance that enhances its grandeur. Commissioned during the reign of Emperor Nicholas I, the vase was presented to the Hermitage as a symbol of Russia’s artistic skill, natural wealth, and imperial pride. Today, it remains a breathtaking testament to the artistry and ambition of 19th-century Russian craftsmanship.

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I was pleasantly surprised to find two paintings by Leonardo da Vinci on display at the State Hermitage Museum - The Benois Madonna and The Madonna Litta. Painted around 1478-1480, The Benois Madonna depicts the Virgin Mary tenderly playing with the Christ Child, who reaches for a delicate flower symbolizing purity and sacrifice. About a decade later, Leonardo created The Madonna Litta, portraying the Virgin nursing the infant Jesus in a serene and intimate moment of maternal devotion.

Both paintings entered the Hermitage not through conquest or royal commission, but through legitimate acquisition from distinguished private collections. Their arrival reflected the Romanov dynasty’s passion for Renaissance art and the Hermitage’s role as one of Europe’s great cultural repositories. Today, these two paintings remain among the most treasured works in the museum, representing the enduring link between Italian genius and Russian patronage.

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With the conclusion of the tour of Russia, I can confidently say that the experience was a profound real-life lesson in geography, history, engineering and architecture of the nation. The journey primarily focused on the grandeur and legacy of the Tsarist era, offering vivid insights into the two centuries under the Romanov dynasty. In contrast, there was little emphasis on the 100 years that followed the 1917 Revolution under Soviet rule. Throughout the tour, I sensed a quiet pride among Russians for their imperial heritage - a reverence for the artistry, culture, and achievements that defined the age of the Tsars.

Pavlovsky Park, St. Petersburg

Before visiting the Peter and Paul Fortress, our tour first brought us to Pavlovsky Park. Having seen how beautifully landscaped gardens were often integrated with Tsarist palaces, this visit became our second encounter with another grand park estate in Russia - one that, once again, surrounds an exquisite imperial residence. Earlier in Moscow, we had been taken to Sparrow Hill to appreciate Russia’s natural greenery (Read here), but Pavlovsky Park offered a far more cultivated and regal experience.

Pavlovsky Park, located about 30 km south of St. Petersburg, is one of Russia’s most elegant imperial estates, enveloping the splendid Pavlovsk Palace. The park was established in the late 18th century for Tsar Paul I and his wife, Maria Feodorovna, on land granted by Catherine the Great. Its design beautifully blends the unspoiled charm of the Russian landscape with the refined aesthetics of European classical gardens.

Spanning roughly 600 hectares, Pavlovsky Park is a masterpiece of landscape architecture inspired by the English garden style. Its design celebrates harmony between art and nature - featuring rolling meadows, winding pathways, birch groves, tranquil ponds, and the gentle flow of the Slavyanka River. Scattered throughout the park are classical pavilions and decorative structures such as the Temple of Friendship and the Apollo Colonnade, each carefully positioned to frame scenic vistas and evoke a sense of serenity. The “White-Birch-Tree” area, with its open meadows and forested expanses, showcases Russia’s natural beauty with minimal architectural adornment.

Though heavily damaged during World War II, both the park and the palace were meticulously restored to their former glory. Today, Pavlovsky Park stands as part of a UNESCO World Heritage Site, a living museum where art, history, and nature coexist. It remains a beloved retreat for visitors seeking the quiet grace and pastoral charm of imperial Russia’s countryside.

September marks the beginning of autumn in St. Petersburg. The few golden-brown leaves we saw scattered beneath the trees were just a prelude to the magnificent display of golden-yellow foliage that soon transforms the city’s parks and gardens. It must be an entirely different sensation to experience St. Petersburg at the height of autumn!

A typical autumn view of Parlovsky Park next to Slavyanka River.

Photo with courtesy from online search.

Similar to Peterhof, we also saw several nude statues within this park. This comes as no surprise, as the park was designed by an Italian architect who incorporated classical European garden concepts, where sculptures celebrating mythological and human forms are an essential element of artistic expression.

As we wandered through Pavlovsky Park, I noticed the lion sculptures were scarred with bullet holes. Our guide explained that during World War II, when German forces occupied this area between 1941 and 1944, both the park and the grand Pavlovsk Palace suffered tremendous damage. Many of the sculptures - including these cast-iron lions - were riddled with bullets and shrapnel, used by soldiers for target practice or shelter amid the fighting.

After the war, restorers worked tirelessly to revive the palace and its gardens. Yet, some sculptures were left partially unrestored, their wounds deliberately preserved as silent witnesses to the destruction and suffering of those years.