I am no longer sad, sister!

I hate and fear what I wore that day. Since then white reminds me of death.

I hate and fear what I wore that day. Since then white reminds me of death.

Comments about this post on ABC Open 500 words – What I was wearing.

I hope my visit to my elder sister Anh in Chợ Rẫy hospital would be the last as I heard she was getting better. After dropping me off at home at 6pm, Dad went back to the hospital.

Around 7pm, Dad arrived back home and hastily parked the car across the driveway. My sister was lying in the arms of Mum in the back seat of the car. Also in the back was my maternal grandma’s maid who helped look after my sister at the hospital. Everyone came home from the hospital. I jumped up and yelled, “Sister Anh’s home!”, but I was surprised, then distressed to see Dad get out of the car and cry loudly. Dad is a stoic and quiet man, and I had never seen him cry before! But wait there’s more!

My noble, widowed grandmother

Amongst the people in Grandpa's funeral procession were two pregnant women - Grandma with her tenth child and my mum with her first child.

Amongst the people in Grandpa’s funeral procession were two pregnant women – Grandma with her tenth child and my mum with her first child.

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I certainly wasn’t my maternal grandmother’s favourite grandchild, however my grandmother received my deepest admiration and greatest affection for her.

My fondest memory of her was her smile. That smile made a child like me felt that I was bathed in love, appreciated and accepted for being myself. Her smile satisfied my longing for tenderness and approval that my parents rarely expressed towards their children. But wait there’s more!