July 24th, 2019Life is like a tide which rises and ebbs. In the past two years, my life had several episodes, leaving mixed feelings in the heart. But the two years is also a time when I wrote so little that some emotions have already diminished. This afternoon I thought of this corner where I had ignored for a long time and where nobody around my life knew. I wanted to update. Then the topic, which was not yet to have been put down in Chinese, sprang into my mind, and here it goes in English…————I think I will never forget the tears, falling down my grandpa’s sad face. In early May this year, it seemed to be my first time ever to see grandpa cry, helpless and heart-broken. Sitting in a wheelchair, he wiped away the tears slowly and silently with his aged hand, again and again, but no one around him passed tissue to dry the tears or said anything with comfort. Yes, including me, who dismissed the impulse. In others’ indifference, I realized mine.Due to geographical distance, in my childhood I only went to the grandpa’s, an old wooden house located in the foot of the mountain in a Fujian country, in spring festival or summer vacation. Since I could remember, grandpa was short-spoken and looked a bit severe. He smoked a lot. He often walked alone and sometimes brought snacks for us. He spent most of his life in the countryside surrounded by moutains. With grandma, he raised 6 children. When he was young, he had no chance to receive good education, but he tought them to study hard. Because of interval between generations and introverted personalities, it is such a shame that I’ve known so little about him, especially what his inner heart was like. From my mom, I could see some negative shadow that grandpa had given, such as insecurity, control, superstition, and the like. But I came to believe that under his strong appearance lived a tender and frail heart. In nearly two decades, he moved to the town and resided in my two uncles’ houses in turn. He used to appear healthy and walked with no difficulties. Till the age of 92, his health suddenly took a turn for the worse as he was diagnosed ileus. He lived in hospital for a few weeks but could not bear the pain caused by the illness. So he asked his sons with obstinate temper that he wanted to return home, giving up treatment and trying Chinese medicine. When it came to going home, he must have meant either of my uncles’. However, both uncles were afraid of his potential death, which was deemed ominous in Chinese traditional mindset and might bring trouble to the neighbourhood, so they came up with an idea privately that they would send back their father to the old house, which was actually abandoned for 20 years. It was seen that people’s cognition and attitude towards death could affect their behaviours and actions. My uncles and other family members were somehow controlled by the fear of death so they were afraid that someone would die at homes, even their beloved father. With much consideration, they allowed fear to overwhelm love. Frankly, I got a bit upset. How I wish I could own an apartment near the hospital so that the patient could get better care. But I was also aware of the dark side of humanity. I could not say if I were the uncle, I would show greater filial piety. In the same situation, I might be no better. Through this, I thought if my parents got ill someday, I would never dislike and avoid taking care of them in my house.On that day when my grandpa left hospital, I saw two lines of tears. At the moment, I thought he cried not only because the pain flared up. Maybe he felt hopeless for the coming days; maybe he had just learnt what awaited him was the desolate house; maybe he became depressed and disappointed at this decision; maybe he sensed solitude seeing others stand young and strong… Tears were falling quietly, but no one took actions to express concern and love! Well, it was possible that my elders did not notice grandpa’s tears, or it just accounts for our family’s implicit communication mode. Taking myself as an example, sometimes I’m sensitive and sympathetic, but I’d perfer focusing on my own feelings, rather than having the wisdom to care about people properly and timely. I know what to do but lack courage to act immediately.The scene drived me to weep with my grandpa, but pitifully I did not give him a hand. Even in that afternoon when grandpa arrived at his room in the old house, I could still get an opportunity to listen to him and talk with him, but I only said a few words and did not dare to strike up a long and heartfelt conversation with him about all that I wanted to tell him. Other family members were busy with clean work, and my mom and aunt looked after him from time to time. In that afternoon, I had a hunch that it might be the last time for me to see grandpa. For a man at his age, death could come at anytime… Pessimistic as I was, my mouth was not open for what I wished to say.Uncles, aunts, and my mother would stay to take care of him in turn. Next day I returned, hundreads of kilometers away from the old house. With worries and remorse, I consoled myself that grandpa’s illness was not fatal and that I might visit again in summer time. However, the thing went contrary to my wishes. On a Sunday morning in the end of June, the sad news finally arrived: my grandpa passed away. I could not imagine his last days, but a slice of grief welled up. I missed seeing him one more time; I missed the funeral on Monday; I missed bidding farewell. What’s worse, I blamed myself for I missed talking about gospel to him, leaving a kind of regret of not being able to speak out. For ever, I missed the things.Life is so short. For most time, I don’t stay with family. When I’m with them, we often hide emotions and don’t open hearts to each other. Although poor communications exist, I shall not take it as an excuse of not trying to improve the relationship with my family. No feast lasts forever, so before I’d rather stay “independent” and selfish so that when people leave I will not feel too sad and sorrowful. However, life is for love. I will never feel sorry about loving too much, but about not loving enough.I think I will never forget those tears, falling down my grandpa’s sad face. I wish I had given a hug, a hug that could warm the heart.