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BY Melinda Wang

I never fully registered that within happiness there’s sadness, within accomplishment there’s suffering, and within life, there’s also death. I didn’t notice the atmosphere changing at first. My mum and dad would always call my aunt from China every week, so it didn’t feel out of place that they were calling her more often. However, they began to shut their bedroom door, looks of seriousness painted across their faces every time. My sister and I never brought it up, brushing it off because we didn’t think it was a big deal. After a day at school, I arrived home, excited to tell my parents about my subjects for next year that were just confirmed. I didn’t see my parents around the phone, frowning. I began to cheerfully talk about my subjects before my dad angrily cut me off. “Can’t you see that we’re busy right now?” In that moment, my excitement suddenly disappeared, my expression morphing immediately. I was overwhelmed with embarrassment and anger, my pent-up emotions fuelling me as well, as I shot back in reply. My mum moved towards me, trying to comfort me, as I felt tears of frustration leak out. I stormed into my room and buried my face into my hands. Once I began to calm down, I left my room, approaching the dining table to finish some homework. I felt my dad sit down in the chair next to me. He apologised, saying that he was too stern and shouldn’t have been so harsh with me. He then started explaining what was happening. My grandma, his mother, had started getting sick and recently was admitted to a hospital. She was diagnosed with bowel cancer, and although he didn’t directly say, it was implied that due to her age, it would be harder for her to recover. Due to China’s lockdowns and Covid restrictions, it was nearly impossible to visit her, especially in the hospital. I felt a wave of pain and helplessness crash into me. I felt so selfish at that moment for complaining about meaningless things when this was what was going on. I pulled him into a hug, there were no words I could’ve said to provide comfort, but I wanted him to know I was there to support him no matter what. One night, my parents called my sister and I to go on a video call with my grandma and aunt. When my aunt positioned the camera in front of my grandma’s face, I felt a wave of heartache seeing her look so weak and different from when I last saw her in person, 3 years ago. As my parents started telling her about the things

happening in our lives, I struggled to keep smiling at the screen. After a while, my grandma began to talk. She thanked my mum for supporting my sister and I and also them, and always being by my dad’s side. She continued to talk about how strong and hardworking my mum is, as my mother sobbed and begged her to keep fighting. I don’t think I had ever heard my mum’s cries sound so desperate and painful. I slumped down, unable to sit up anymore, tears trickling down my cheeks. My dad looked up as his mother began to talk to him. She told him how proud she was, and how she was so lucky to have a son like him. She assured him to stay strong

and continue to support our family like he was doing now. He stayed silent the entire time, and even when we bid goodbye and ended the call. My sister and mum immediately pulled each other into an embrace, muffling their cries into each other’s shoulders. I brushed my hair from my tear-stained face, and I looked over to my dad. He was like a statue, no sound or movement coming from him. I went over to him and hugged him, and he reassured me that everything would be okay. Knowing that he was trying to stay strong for all of us, pained me even more. I knew this moment, seeing my grandma struggling, hearing my mum’s cries, and my dad’s

silence, would never leave me. I couldn’t sleep that night, and I woke up with a damp pillow and puffy eyes. A few weeks later, I came home from a normal day at school. As I bent down to untie my shoelaces, I looked up to see my parents standing in front of me with an indescribable expression. “Are you both going for a walk?” My mum helped me slide my bag off my shoulder. The situation felt so strange and out of place, but after looking at them one more time, I sensed what was going on. My mum’s voice trembled as she began to talk. My grandma had passed away. My face contorted, and my mum hugged me tightly. When she pulled away, I immediately went to hug my dad, asking if he was okay. I felt so numb and confused. The feeling of grief and loss felt so foreign. I couldn’t process that my grandma wasn’t with us anymore. The next few days felt so strange. My dad was distant, and I was hesitant when talking to him. I would see him stand in front of and look at the photo of my grandma with a lit candle placed next to her. My heart ached, and I would look away, unable to keep watching. I didn’t want my dad to feel like he had to act strong in front of us and bottle up his emotions. I wanted him to express how he was feeling so we could comfort him and be by his side. I couldn’t begin to imagine how devastated and helpless he must’ve felt. He couldn’t go back to China to see her one last time, and he couldn’t help support his little sister who was grieving alone.One day, my mum told me that she had woken up early one morning and saw my dad sitting in front of the photo of her, and sobbing into his hands, like a little kid. The ache in my chest felt so sharp and painful, and a

wave of overwhelming indescribable feeling drowned me. My dad was just a little boy who had lost his mother. That night I cried for the first time since she died. As the days turned into weeks, frowns turned into smiles. Whenever my dad would tell us his childhood stories, he would softly smile as he recounted his memories with his mother. Although my grandma had passed away,

it didn’t mean she was gone. She would always be with us in every moment, and she would always be a part of who we are.