Grandma

It’s been a year now, and I still often dream of you. I dare not think about what happened a year ago today; it was as if the world had come to an end at that moment. That memory is not gray, but it’s not vivid either; everything felt like it was in a dream, yet it wasn’t a dream.

I don’t believe in Jesus because, during that time, I prayed countless times, but miracles didn’t happen. Everything unfolded as if it was predetermined, happening and ending quickly. And I was like a puppet controlled by fate, trapped in the midst of it all, unable to do anything but pray.

Actually, from a few years ago, I had a growing sense of fear in my heart. Sometimes I would think, “What if you were to leave, what would I do?” Back then, I didn’t dare to continue thinking about it. I naively thought that scenario was still far away from me, but in that instant, everything I had imagined suddenly came crashing down on me like a landslide. Before I could even process it, those scenes had already become memories.

When I was little, I remember turning off the lights at night and being with you. You asked, “What would you do if Grandma were to pass away one day?” I said, “Grandma, you can still live for a long time!” After that night, I secretly cried, because I really didn’t know what it would mean for me if you were to leave.

Every holiday, I would go to your place to stay. I called it “Grandma’s house” because I was closer to you. Even now, I occasionally still refer to Grandpa’s house as Grandma’s house, despite your absence.

I remember that during holidays, my happiest moments were when I would wake up every morning, gaze at the sunlight streaming into the bedroom from the living room, and listen to you and Grandpa chatting. You both thought I was still asleep and couldn’t hear you. Sometimes, after having a nightmare, I would wake up and hear your conversation with Grandpa, and instantly feel like I could live in a beautiful reality. Grandma’s house, to me, was not just a home; it was more like a spiritual haven.

But now, everything is gone. My spiritual home has disappeared.

So, I had to force myself to grow up, to mature. From that moment on, I was no longer a child. From that moment on, I was no longer afraid of any adventure, any adversity. No matter how big the waves were, they couldn’t knock me down. I know you can’t be with me for my entire life, and since I couldn’t change reality, I had to accept it and change myself.

Now I’m in the United States, and everything is fine. I still remember your wish, and I will make it come true.