Things are happening. Normal things. Things that happen to everyone at different times in their lives. People come and people go. New life is preparing his or her journey greeting the big big world. Loved ones are getting old, older until they cannot live by themselves anymore. There has to be someone taking care of them at all times. Every minute. They get frustrated easily. They forget. They lose motivations. They are fragile. Lonely. They may not even be able to recognise the loved ones, their own children. They cannot see very well. Their faces change. Wrinkles crawl all over their faces like tree branches or river streams, on the faces that were once upon a time so young and beautiful. They pretend they are happy. They tell us that they're fine, they're doing okay even if they're not. They just don't know. Or perhaps they don't want us to worry too much. Or perhaps we don't understand. Yes we would not be able to understand, until the day. The day is going to come. That day when everything ends. The very day our journey of life on earth completes.
Well that is a scary thought. Sad too. But that's what happens to millions of people on earth every single day. It's something we all have to face and go through. I love her. I wish I could spend more time with her. Simply sitting next to her, warming her hands, putting a blanket over her body when she falls asleep on the sofa. Sometimes she asks: who are you? So I say to her: I'm your granddaughter, don't worry, everything is okay. Then she's calm. Sometimes she goes hysterical and throws things onto the floor or pushes people away from her. Or even pinching people's hands and arms, trying to pull her jumper apart or clapping and dancing like a child, muttering. It was what I experienced this time when I went back for Chinese New Year that I realised how challenging it can be to prepare oneself for this. When I sat next to her I just knew how miserable it is to be in her situation. Her right eye got infected and always looks red, dry and blurry. She doesn't read or write very much. With her eyesight, she cannot see the TV programmes. Even if she could, she probably wouldn't be able to hear very well or understand anything that goes on in that box.
She needs people more than ever. We are not there. I'm not there! I have a job here. Her daughters have to work. Her other granddaughter is having a wonderful baby who is coming to see us in the world in April. Who does she have? Him.
To her, he is everything. He is her eyes and ears. He is her walking stick. He washes her, feeds her, walks with her, watches her sleep, holds her hands, stays with her whenever she needs anything. He's the man. He's the entire world. He was such a handsome young man, smart and fit, full of ambitions and aspirations to be in the best military academy in China. The late arrival of his admissions letter destroyed his dream and locked him in the small village for the rest of his life, doing accounting work for a water station. Ordinary life. She lost her mother in the war and made a living for herself and four younger brothers by working extremely hard to make money in a big city, Shanghai. She was so able and fearless, taking the huge responsibilities of putting a family together from an early age, too much suffering along the way. Is life fair to her sufferings? Not really. Is life fair to anyone? No, not really. Life gives us something and takes something away from us - something we treasure even more. She's had loving daughters and grandchildren and a man of her life, who has always loved her and taken care of her, going through rain, hail and storms. That's beautiful. That is her treasure.
Thank you for being there when I was a little girl. I love you so much. I want you to be there when I'm next back in the village. I want you to hold cousin's baby in April. I want you to see me getting married whenever that happens. I want you to be good, healthy and spend more time with us. I pray for you with my heart. I love you.
Well that is a scary thought. Sad too. But that's what happens to millions of people on earth every single day. It's something we all have to face and go through. I love her. I wish I could spend more time with her. Simply sitting next to her, warming her hands, putting a blanket over her body when she falls asleep on the sofa. Sometimes she asks: who are you? So I say to her: I'm your granddaughter, don't worry, everything is okay. Then she's calm. Sometimes she goes hysterical and throws things onto the floor or pushes people away from her. Or even pinching people's hands and arms, trying to pull her jumper apart or clapping and dancing like a child, muttering. It was what I experienced this time when I went back for Chinese New Year that I realised how challenging it can be to prepare oneself for this. When I sat next to her I just knew how miserable it is to be in her situation. Her right eye got infected and always looks red, dry and blurry. She doesn't read or write very much. With her eyesight, she cannot see the TV programmes. Even if she could, she probably wouldn't be able to hear very well or understand anything that goes on in that box.
She needs people more than ever. We are not there. I'm not there! I have a job here. Her daughters have to work. Her other granddaughter is having a wonderful baby who is coming to see us in the world in April. Who does she have? Him.
To her, he is everything. He is her eyes and ears. He is her walking stick. He washes her, feeds her, walks with her, watches her sleep, holds her hands, stays with her whenever she needs anything. He's the man. He's the entire world. He was such a handsome young man, smart and fit, full of ambitions and aspirations to be in the best military academy in China. The late arrival of his admissions letter destroyed his dream and locked him in the small village for the rest of his life, doing accounting work for a water station. Ordinary life. She lost her mother in the war and made a living for herself and four younger brothers by working extremely hard to make money in a big city, Shanghai. She was so able and fearless, taking the huge responsibilities of putting a family together from an early age, too much suffering along the way. Is life fair to her sufferings? Not really. Is life fair to anyone? No, not really. Life gives us something and takes something away from us - something we treasure even more. She's had loving daughters and grandchildren and a man of her life, who has always loved her and taken care of her, going through rain, hail and storms. That's beautiful. That is her treasure.
Thank you for being there when I was a little girl. I love you so much. I want you to be there when I'm next back in the village. I want you to hold cousin's baby in April. I want you to see me getting married whenever that happens. I want you to be good, healthy and spend more time with us. I pray for you with my heart. I love you.
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