She looked visibly weaker this time. It ws so hard to see her like this. The doctor explained that during her slow deterioration, she might have forgotten me. I told him that I stil wished to see her. He let me.
"Grandma-ma?" I cooed as I gently sat myself on a chair by her bed.
She didn't turn her head though she was awake. It was quiet. I was afraid to speak.
"Am I dying?" She croaked, her head still turned away.
Her brittle hands were fisted in the bedsheets. I took a labored breath.
"Yes," I whispered.
I began to cry.
"Hush!" She reprimnaded me.
I quit crying.
"Sorry," I whimpered.
It was quiet again. My hands were shaking. The moonlit sky hung outside like a ready postcard. The bedside lamp was dim and depressing.
"Do you remember me?" I asked bluntly.
Her face hidden, I saw her head shake. I hung my head dejectadely.
"I remember.....him," She whispered.
Suddenly, she turned her head towards me. The light in her eyes was gone, and all that was left was a hard gem of dark blue. Her lips were dry and chapped. Her hair hung limply.
"Who?" I asked gently.
Her thin lips stretched into a smile.
"My love," She announced lightly.
I leaned forward. I'd never heard this before.
"I see him still. I see him. In his army uniform," She told me in a childlike voice.
"Grandpa?" I searched.
There was a bitter laugh.
"No! My love. My first love," She wistfully spoke.
I was shocked. I suddenly needed to tell her my secrets.
"Grandma-ma, I am to marry a boy whom I loved, but.....I can't!" I confessed in distress.
She laughed bitterly again.
"The only regret I have is letting my love go. My only regret," She said coldly before turning her head away again.
Depressed, I picked up my bag and left. My heart knew the answer, but my head was covering it.
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