The atmosphere in the house seemed fresher after Ma left but a slight sinister aura roamed the air.
During daily activities like rushing around to finish chores, a calm breeze flowed. However, when ever I sat still without moving an inch, I could feel the darkness prickled my skin, reminding me of “that feeling”– my first scar, a deep sadness within my heart.
Grandma moved in the following school year. She cooked, cleaned, and laughed with us– things Ma never did with us. The only thing Ma did was walk me home from the school the school bus, which Grandma fulfilled after she left.
After years went by, I guess I sort of repressed the memory. No matter how hard I tried to recall the reason for my deep sadness, I could not. I would sit down, feel this dark prickling sensation, and almost mechanically filter out every memory I could remember. Out of them all, I could never find that day or–more so– as for the reason this scar being impended in my heart.
I vaguely remembered her. I remembered that she would sit in the living room all day and that she had the most beautiful glassy eyes I ever saw. Looking in the mirror and seeing my straight red hair would also remind me that the trait was passed down from Ma. I also didn’t forget about how I used to wobble down a few steps from the second floor and watch you and Ma sit together for awhile.
Since I repressed the memory when Ma suddenly disappeared, I felt indifferent about her not being with us.
In fact, you were a wonderful dad and with Grandma living with us, I never thought our family was broken.
Every day, you acted as if nothing was wrong. You smiled every day. When I was sad, you made me laugh. Sometimes I would do something stupid and get hurt and you would patch me up and laugh at me.
You always said, “don’t bite more than you can chew” whether we were sitting at the dinner table or after I did something dangerous.
Years passed by. Grandma every two years would get sillier and sillier glasses. You grew many beards and shaved many beards. Going from one grade to another, my teachers increased my homework.
One thing never changed though, we all ate at the dinner table together every night. At the time, I didn’t think much of it but now I really appreciate the time we spent as a family.