How I carry the memories of my Grandparents with me, despite time and distance. Seeing them once a year was few enough, until one passed away, and another got dementia, one is stuck at home, and another moved away. But watching my laundry being dried by the sun shining on my balcony with Bach on the background reminded me that despite time and distance, they are always in my heart. Through my actions; the way I do my house chores, the food I make, I had learnt from watching them, from the way they took care of me whenever I visited. From the love I was born into.

“At the end,” my maternal Grandmother told me after my Grandfather had passed, “we still have to live our life.” Due to health issues, she only left the house to attend necessary family gatherings. She likes her structures, keeps track of everyone’s lives, and reads in the garden my Grandfather used to tend to. She’s not one with many words, except when I’m around to listen, and like still water, her wisdom runs deep.

I miss her very much these days. As I tried to visit her once a year, knowing it is one reunion less, I fear with every passing day, that like it was with my Grandfather, how we may never even know that the last time was the last time. That is why I have been making more of an effort to videoconference her. Quite an adjustment to my schedule, considering the time difference between us. But I do it happily with love. Because my Grandparents were never too busy to be with me, or to take care of me. The least I can do is to check in on them regularly. It is the only thing I can do that shall never end with regret.