#03/05/2014

I used to be close to my grandpa, an old man from the 1940s.

When I was in first grade, he always picked me up after school. As a young teenage girl, I got hungry every time.

“Can we get some snacks on the way?” I asked him as he picked up my heavy school bag.

“Snacks are unhealthy,” he chuckled as he pulled out something from his pocket, like magicians pulling out unexpected items, “I bought you an apple.”

I was always delighted by that little treat after school. The big sweet apple that he carefully picked out in the fruit shop reawakened my tired soul. I could still taste the refreshingness of the apple and the lightness on my back as he put it on his shoulders. 

Then I would tell him about my day: what I had for lunch, how I did on the test and what classes I had. He always smiled, nodded and said “keep up with the good work. My little girl is always the smartest kid.” I laughed and kept on telling him my school life. Sometimes, he told me stories when I was little.

“How come you still remember it? It’s been so long.” I looked up at him, mouth wide open.

“You’re my only grandchildren. How could I forget about it?” He gave me a little pat on the back. I could see him romanticizing our past lives.

We chatted, laughed, and I told him about my future dream: staying with my family and buying a large house near the beach, so we could enjoy the freshest sea breeze. And I made him promise that he would always pick me up from school and bring me an apple as a small treat for the day.

When we arrived home, he let me watch an hour of TV that mom normally would forbid me to do. 

“Go do your homework,” he would turn off the TV right before mom came back, “Or you will lose your TV time tomorrow.”

“OK.” I said, grabbing some sweets he bought from Carrefour and climbed upstairs. 

I sat in front of my desk with books opening in front of me, pretending I was working hard. But my mind was flying back, back to when grandpa gave me the apple, back to when I told him about school, back to when I grabbed the remote…….

#09/01/2021

I had a fight with my grandpa on the first day of eighth grade.

Being an eighth grader, I was a step closer to adulthood. I no longer needed a grown-up person to pick me up after school. School bus stopped at its destination; my school day was over. 

From the bus window, I could see him standing there, with some first-grade kids’ grandparents. A nameless anger aroused in my heart.

I walked straight past him, avoiding eye contact. 

“How’s your first day of school?” He catched up and asked.

I did not answer and walked faster and faster.

“Are you not feeling good? You seem unhappy.” He gasped as we stopped, waiting for the traffic light to turn green.

“I am absolutely happy.” Sarcastically I answered, still not looking at him. 

“What’s wrong today? Did you have a fight with your new friends?”

“Why can’t I,” I wanted to stop talking but it was too late, “go home alone? I am no longer a kindergarten kid that needs to be picked up by their grandparents!”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he sighed, “you know, dangers happen and I can’t let that happen to you.”

I stayed silent.

“I brought you an apple.” He handed me the apple, but I refused.

“I do not need an apple,” I answered, glaring at him, “and I do not want you to pick me up anymore.”

There was a long pause before we could say anything. Time had stopped, air had freezed and the world was in stasis. 

I was expecting a furious firm “no”.

But he didn’t.

“OK,” he sighed again, finally giving in, “just be safe. And call me if anything happens.”

After that day, the old man who waited in front of where the school bus stops disappeared, as if he never came to this place. Life went on as I enjoyed my way home alone. I forgot how I told him about my funny school days, how I said I always wanted him to pick me up, how I looked for him in the crowd after school. Plugging in airpods, I could cheerfully walk home without saying a single word.

He was always leaning on the sofa when I arrived home, watching TV, like he was enjoying some best afternoons without being interrupted by a kid. But I could see his eyes, a glimpse of wistfulness; he never knew why a kid could change so much within a summer that she no longer wanted someone to pick her up as she did a few months ago. I also couldn’t give him an exact answer; my mind changed like clouds; we never know where it gets in the next minute. So I stayed silent, and so did he.

Stressed with school work and highschool applications, I never got the chance to sit down and watch TV again. With the presence of my first cell phone, I was captivated, spending less time talking to him, who only uses cell phone to call people. I kept growing but he seemed stagnant. Gradually, I got tired of hearing his stories of building railroads, all his life philosophies and his daily lives. I kept away from him, like strangers living under the same roof. I remember one time he complained about how he couldn’t pay for the vegetables because some shops only accept Wechat payment.

“Learn it then,” I answered, scrolling through some TikTok videos, “I’ll teach you one day.” 

He nodded silently.

That day never came, and soon I had to leave for high school.

We got further and further apart until we were literally apart.

#08/29/2022

It was the first time I left my family, flying to an unknown place where they couldn’t see me everyday.

Mom was driving me to the airport. Before I departed, everyone was crying, saying ‘goodbye’s and giving me their last hugs. I was weeping too, saying ‘I would be back next summer’ to comfort them. He was standing far away where I could not see his face. 

I asked if he wanted to come over and have a little hug. He smiled and shook his head. 

“We gotta go,” mom patted my shoulders as grandma gave me a kiss on the cheek.

I could see people waving at me in the rearview mirror, and I heard him shout “be safe! Wear warm and eat healthy!”

Time flew when I got to my new school. New friends, new classes, new sports occupied most of my time, and I no longer spent hours talking to people back home. The only few times I saw him was in my grandma’s video call; he does not know how to do video calls and we no longer phone people.

Whenever he saw me, he always smiled and asked how I was doing. But when I wanted to chat with him more, he already vanished on camera, saying that he needed a nap. He always seemed tired on the camera, not as energetic as he was in the past. 

I turned 15 a few weeks after. I grew older only to reach the painful realization that we could not grow older together. It was like he was falling behind me and he could never catch up. I imagined him staring blandly at his phone, asking grandma thousands of times for tutorials of cellphone use, trying hard to memorize the procedure of calling but failing every time. I imagined him standing in front of the cashier, opening his shopping bag, pulling out the cash from his wallet but getting told that the store no longer accepts cash. I wanted to stop and wait for him, like how he always did while teaching me to walk when I was little, but it seemed too late. Our distance and advances in technology pushed me forward but blocked him behind, splitting us further and further apart.

Maybe it was how things work, sweet at first but bitter in the end. Maybe I shouldn’t refuse him picking me up from school. Maybe my action was too late to be called an action. Maybe he was trying to tell me that I should value people who cared about me, instead of pushing them away. Maybe he was mad at me for not teaching him Wechat pay. Maybe he didn’t want to accept the fact that I am getting older. Maybe he was pondering why he struggled to buy food even though he had money. Maybe I should start doing proper phone calls instead of Wechat calls…….

Some days when I got exhausted by school work, I always went to the dinning hall and grabbed an apple. They were never as sweet as those apples he offered me. He was disappearing in my childhood memories. Old people like him were disappearing in everyone’s childhood memories. With the rapid switch from cash to online pay, it would soon become a problem for them to get daily necessities without using online pay or relying on family members who use this payment method. It was those people who helped to develop farming techniques, improve crop yields and contribute to food security. It was those people who built railroads that played a crucial role in transporting goods and supplies even till today. It was those people who never gave up living optimistically even after the destruction of the cultural revolution. They should be enjoying their time with kids and family instead of getting lost in technologies and the fast-paced society.

“My little girl is a wonderful kid.” I think I heard him say