She only remembers the little boy.
The little boy whom goes to her house every weekdays from 9am to 8pm.
She kept calling for his name,
She kept finding him,
She kept worrying about him,
She kept making noise once a few hours to find that particular little boy and little girl.
She kept demanded to see him.
She demanded me to wake him up.
She demanded me to call him up.
She demanded me to open the door for him.
She kept repeating the same thing.
I pointed to the picture,
She say, yes.. him..
But she don't understand that I'm standing right in front of her..
She can say my name,
But in her life, there's two different me.
All her memories is filled with the little boy.
She can call me,
but find the little boy.
When I ask her, what's his name?
She'll think awhile and say, I can't remember..
When he is young, she help him sign his Spellings when he forgot to ask his parents sign.
When he is young, she bought a baby tortoise for him.
When he is young, she bought him a Tetris video game.
When he is young, she is very strict and fierce to him,
but.. for his own good.
No matter how much I tell her I've grown up, I'm right in front of you,
She'll say, I know who you are..
But.. I'm not finding you.. I'm finding him, the little boy..
Creully, I can't do anything but walk away..
How I wish I can turn back to the little boy and talk to you.
I love you, grandma. =(
