So I said I will go on in a new post...

so I did. Or I am doing it.

I like large, soft-ish cookies with oatmeal and raisins suddenly. I didn't like it when I had it for breakfast this morning because the taste of raisins was weird when it was the first thing you put in your mouth in the morning, not counting all the dust and hair... but somehow I left a few bites on my desk and being funny, I ate it (don't ask me why 'being funny'... I don't know.). And I actually really like the taste of it. My grandma used to buy me little packets of raisins when I was a kid. It was when I was still in kindergarten, when my parents were still working, both of them. My dad's mother lives close to my kindergarten so she was taking care of me. She likes me a lot anyway. And I did like her a lot because she was basically the one who was taking care of me until my little brother was born, then my mom quitted working and took care of him. Well she did take care of me also but yeah, kids like conspiracies. So the idea of 'she quitted working to take care of him but she didn't do that for me' keeps bugging me actually, until this very second. But I like my brother despite he's EVEN more boring than me. A little bit nerdy actually. Anyway. My grandma. Then yeah, she had some health troubles and then my father got into a fight with her or something, then I have rarely heard about her. I don't think I got those pocket money things from her on my birthdays and in Chinese New Year anymore. It was since I left for Norway I think. It's a little bit annoying in two ways. First I'm so much like my dad that we both are not too into our parents, siblings etc. He had fights with his brothers... say probably 16 years ago and since then I have never, ever heard of them again. Maybe he killed them, maybe he just does not contact them. I don't know. But the thing which really annoys me is... I don't really know how my grandma is now. Honestly I dare not to ask my mother about that- when she does not talk about it, there is usually something pretty wrong. Well, if I ask my father about it, and if he happens to be in a fight with her (Grandma), I would not know too much from him either.

She might be dead. Maybe 2 years ago. I don't know. If my parents did not tell me about that, I probably would not really talk to them for quite a while. But it's just me being paranoid. My grandma's situation was pretty bad when I left for Norway anyway. I remember I went to see her in the hospital/clinic thing she stayed in, she was so excited to see me. Maybe she was so sick of seeing her daughter and the nurses taking care of her, two of her sons (my uncles) disappeared, another daughter moved to France (ages ago) and her son (my father) getting angry with her. Well she was stubborn and refused to help herself get better. That was somewhat unforgivable, and that makes it understandable why my father got so frustrated. I don't know. I am still too young to tell. Then again I don't know enough.

So I went to her room. I sat down and called her the way I used to when she was taking care of me. She heard my voice and looked a little bit surprised actually. She called me the way she called me when I was young, too- in fact she never changed the way she called me. It was a relief, I thought- at least she still recognizes me. I was holding her hand and telling her how I have been doing in those years that I haven't seen her and she was weakly patting my hand like she how she would pat my head when I was small. Her hand was so cold, it honestly felt barely alive. It was honestly, weird. I was telling her I did pretty well in my public exam and she was replying, weakly and barely audible. The purpose of me visiting her was actually telling her I am going to Norway. I did feel bad about it actually. I did not know how to do it at all. I was 16 for fuck's sake! So we watched TV together (she was watching TV when I went in actually) for a while, awkward silence despite the noise from the television. 'Gran, I'm going to Norway for two years to study...' She cried. I, as a 16-year-old teen, tried my best to calm her down and stuff. And she at first was actually happy that I got such a chance, and I told her that I would miss her (I actually did, more than I missed my parents), then I heard a reply that really made me feel so helpless at that moment. I actually managed not to think about that single little sentence my Grandma said to me during the days in Norway, but somehow the raisins in the cookie reminded me of that.

'I'm afraid I won't live long enough to see you again.'

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EDIT: well, sorry for posting a pretty boring piece of my momory instead of bullshitting something interesting... that just popped up in my mind and I felt like typing it. Maybe a few hours later when I don't feel like sleeping, I will have funny little ideas to write about. Do look forward to it. :)