The day my Waipo (maternal grandmother) was dying, I did not know, but thought of her and felt a deep sadness come upon me. I chatted with my mother about my memories of her. Two days later, I found out Waipo passed away.
About a year after, I dreamt she took me and my little sister to the hills to play. It was lush and green, with many trees and plants. Not another person in sight. We had fun playing and chatting. It soon felt aimless as we had no destination.
Without warning, snakes slithered out of the undergrowth, covering the hill. Grandma grabbed our hands. We ran to the hilltop. There was nowhere to go. She told us to leave.
All of a sudden, a soft white light spread across the sky. I knew it was salvation. Holding sister’s hand I turned to grandma, “What about you?”
“You both go. I have to stay here.”
She looked at me. A smile that wasn’t quite a smile.
I gazed at the light and woke up. I never dreamt of her again.
Epilogue:
It was just a watercolour class assignment from when I was in elementary school, but I painted it very carefully, and it’s one of the few I was satisfied with. Plus, every time I went back to grandma’s house during summer holidays, there would be ice pumpkin to enjoy.
Her bed faced a dark dresser where the framed painting was hung. She could see it from her bed and was so pleased she even boasted about it to me: “Aren’t I smart?”
She said she would look at my pumpkin painting when she missed me.
Tiffany, Taiwan
[loved one]