That young girl’s head was resting on her grandma’s chest. Both of them were sleeping. It does look a little unglamorous, but what caught my attention wasn’t this. It was her grandma.
I’ve been observing them for about five minutes since I’ve boarded the bus. Her grandma was trying to stay awake, in an attempt to prevent her granddaughter from slipping away from her arms. But I guessed she might be too tired. Even so, she forced open her eyes every few minutes to check on her granddaughter. Stroking her granddaughter’s hair, she closed her eyes again.
My grandma used to do that to me too. I remembered not having to worry about missing my stop when I sleep in bus. Because someone will always be there to wake me up. The not-so-smooth hand that ran through my hairs.
The memories are sweet. It has been a long time ever since I cuddle in to my grandma’s warmth and act like a child all over again. Maybe I should ask her out just to take bus together. It sounds funny and kind of idiotic. But it means a lot to me:)
My beloved grandma–who is always there when my mum make an attempt to scold me ; always there when my dad tries to cane me. And here she is, still there for me when I am confused and lost. I love you, grandma.
I realize that I might not have everything in life. but I sure have a little of everything. The small, tiny bits of everything which makes my life complete.
