Tag Archives: grandma

Every time I miss my dear grandma, I make rice porridge, like this:

Taste of love

I remember when I was little, I got sick a lot. I would cry every morning because I did not feel well. Grandma would get up at 5 am in the morning and start the stove. As soon as the rice porridge boils, as the fragrance of boiling rice along with all kinds of nuts dominate the house, I would jump out of the bed and start staring at the porridge pot—my was mouth watering, stomach was groaning, and eyes were wide open as I watch the steam slowly goes up into the air and disappears…

It has been a year and half since Grandma left. No matter how hard I try, the rice porridge is never the same.

 

This kind of fear

I am scared, not because of busy Chicago but the thought of going home, the thought of getting home and knowing that Grandma is no longer there. This fear, is tearing my heart into pieces. Longing for home, but home is not going to be the same anymore. Grandma visits me in my dreams every night as if she is still there, but I know she is just being the usual her—loving me. Oh, how can I fight this fear, this loneliness?