He’s Really Getting Older by the Day

Is the elderly forgetful, or is he, just missing his eldest grandson???  Translated…

That weekend, I’d returned to my grandparents as I usually had.  Most of the time, I’d only asked them about their health, and not much else, the rest of the time, I’d heard my grandfather ranted on about his past, about how well he worked when he was younger, how well his family was established, and how he’d met my grandmother; or that grandmother would tell me which produces had a price hike recently, or which fruits became, cheaper these days.

Actually, the stories that my grandparents told me, I’d heard, over a dozen times on end, but I’d, enjoyed this sort of an interaction with them, felt that they were just like when I was young, still remembered the tales of their younger years, and, the accounts of their earlier years, somehow, made me feel at ease.

I’d always imagined, that they can accompany me for a very long time, until this time I’d gone home.  My older brother goes to school away from home, and didn’t come home every once in a while, and every time he’d come home, my grandparents hoped he could stay for the meals; and because of this, they’d marked their calendars, his date of return, and whenever a holiday rolls around, they’d started asking me, “Is your older brother coming home this time?” even as I’d already answered them, they’d still needed to confirm again, and again, and again.

This time, my older brother couldn’t m it home for some reasons, and I’m left in grandmother’s kitchen, helping her out, at this time, grandpa came in and inquired if my older brother was coming home?  I’d answered truthfully, and, grandpa didn’t say another word, just, walked back into the living room afterwards, but at lunch, he’d sat on the chair, saw the table’s worth of foods, and we, helping to fill the rice bowls, he’d asked again, “Should we wait for him?”, I’d become stumped, asked him, “Wait for whom?”

“Your older brother!”, grandpa replied.

My heart skipped a beat, then, it’d, sank, thought, that maybe grandpa is becoming, demented?  Then immediately, I’d, consoled myself, he probably didn’t hear it clearly that first time I’d told him.  And, I’d told him again, he’d not responded at all still, only nodded, then, picked up his chopsticks to eat.

Afterwards, it’d troubled me for a very long time, and I still wasn’t sure, if my grandfather didn’t hear it?  Or, that he’d actually, forgot about me telling him?  But, no matter what the truth was, that focused look he had as he’d asked if we should wait for my older brother, those eyes, full of expectancy, they’d, scared me so, because I can feel it, he’s, old now!

And so, we can see, that the older brother of the writer must mean a whole lot to her/his grandfather, because he’d asked again and again, if the older brother’s coming home, or, it might just be a way, that the elderly man showed that he’d missed his own grandson, without stating it so, and this, is from an observer’s angle, the writer observing the interactions of himself with his grandfather, and the little things that people usually missed out on.