“Nai Nai/ Grandmother”

Tears trickle down my cheeks as the little boy turns back to look at his deaf and mute grandmother. Though he would never dare admit it, the expression on his face said it all. A sad, crestfallen glow shone in his eyes and then the glimmer of something wet, until he hastily brushed it away with an over-elaborate, childish gesture. Funny how just weeks before, he thought himself to be a grown boy, who did not need to depend on anyone else. Now, as the bus pulls away from the very spot he had first stepped off onto, he feels his heart swell with the intensity of his tears, watching his grandmother limp pitifully after the bus to catch one last look at her beloved grandson. The movie ended with a message: “Dedicated to grandmothers…”

When I was young and just about to take an airplane to a strange new country called America, I was afraid my grandmother would miss me too much. And so, to comfort her, I told her that when she came, she could hold onto the back of my skirt so that she wouldn’t be afraid of falling off the airplane. She had smiled her wrinkly yet comforting smile and never quit talking about it since. She would always embarrass me by asking if I remembered that naïve promise I had made so long ago, when my family was still together and spring was upon us.

My grandmother used to spend the money she earned from babysitting on me and my brother, buying us little gifts when we got home or taking Will for a little trip to the deli on the street corner. She would always save the best pieces of fish for me and never even touched a slice of pizza until Will had eaten his full. She used to sit with me for hours, watching me draw little fantasy worlds that I longed to run away to. She used to beg me to show her how to write her name in English letters, and then she would practice writing it long into the night, even though her name had only two letters: “Wu”. She would listen to me when the whole world covered their ears and in return, I listened to her.

Out of all the people in my family, I had loved her the most. Even though I was little, I knew what love was. I knew it was unconditional and selfless, that it meant giving your whole person to another. To love is to feel happy and sad at the same time, to cry when that person is sad, to be uncontrollably happy when that person is tears with joy. To eat that dish just because they made it (even if you hated celery). To translate “Sister Sister” to (which was our favorite show). To ask what is the matter when you find them crying and you don’t know why.

I loved my grandmother, even as the dark cloud descended upon my family. Even as she purposely ignored me and my brother’s cries for her help. Even as she left that one school day when I came home, called out “nai nai!” and found no answer. Even as she ignored my family for five years until my mother found the phone number to her house in China. Her excuse was that she was her son’s mother.

That night, I warned my mother that she might cry if she heard it was me calling. My grandmother used to be always like that: when it came to me and Will, she was always very loving and emotional. She always told me that when she returned to China one day, I had better call her often to tell her how much I missed her. I deliberately ignored the fact that she had left without a trace as to where she went.

That night… I found out the true definition of love. At first, she didn’t even recognize my name, and when she figured out who I was, she didn’t sound that happy. Then, when I mentioned my father, it was as though a bomb had exploded. She started to yell and scream at me, asking me why I brought up such a painful subject. She didn’t give me a chance to answer after her long, sobbing speech, but instead, hung up soon after; the long beep ringing in my ear. After I sat there a long time without moving, my mother put her hand on my shoulder, and when I turned to face her, she gasped. It turns out; my grandmother had not been the one who cried that night. When I turned to face my mother, tears were streaming down my face.

“Nai