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Deviny (onemotime) wrote,
@ 2009-08-05 17:59:00
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    Current mood: confused

    what i really feel about my great grandma
    i have to say something at my great grandma's gravesite tomorrow. i didn't know her very well. i have nothing appropriately sentimental to say. i wrote some things that feel truthful, but i don't think my family will appreciate it much:

    attempt 1:
    99.9 percent of your genes are the same as everyone else’s. the difference is in the remaining .1 percent. ah tah passed at 93, a ripe old age. she was a headstrong woman, the chief of our family. she held herself with a silent pride, a quality i see in all of us. she gave us the foundation to our .1 percent genetic difference from the rest of the world. and without her, we could not be the strong and smart and beautiful people we are today. for that, i am grateful. rest in peace.

    attempt 2:
    back in the day when i was little we would go over to ah tahs every saturday after chinese school and eat take out dim sum. one time i was really fascinated with ah tah’s skin and her sagging chubby cheeks and i stared at her while she ate, watching her cheeks move, jiggling up and down. back then, old age seemed more intriguing than frightening. i wanted to touch them and see what they felt like. i was hoping they’d feel like one of those stress balloons that were all the rage back then. soft and stretchy and squishy but still durable. i thought about the way they would jiggle just a little bit with every bite, like those sea cucumbers we ate. and i would look at her ears, her long lobes that also moved just slightly with every munch. i only saw ears like hers on those laughing buddhas in front of every chinese restaurant. ah tah said something to my mother, or father, or grandma, i can’t remember who else was around. “why are you staring at ah tah?” i didn’t respond. i was usually pretty unresponsive as a child when i never had a good answer. “you think she’s beautiful? is that why?” i looked away, embarrassed that i was asked that. i didn’t want my tastes to be questioned. old age is not supposed to be beautiful. yet, i couldn’t help myself. i kept sneaking glances whenever i thought nobody was looking. maybe it really was beautiful, something i could stare at, something i would like to see just one more time. rest in peace.

    i'm getting close...

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