Shengliver’s Note: A family reunion on Qingming rekindles Miss Gan Xue’s fond memories of her grandparents.

For this year’s Chinese festival, Qingming, we had two days off. I took the time to visit Gran back in my home village in Fangxian.

Nearly 80 years old, Gran is still as fit as a fiddle. It is her conviction that as long as she is alive, she should be doing something to share her time. Grandma chooses to plant a garden, the produce from which is often given away to her sons and daughters. When she is free, she helps my aunt to babysit the great-granddaughter.

In my early childhood, my parents were both kept busy working to support the family. Daycare service was too expensive for them, so I was left in the care of my grandparents. In no way will I forget those days. I had never thought my grandma would be getting old, but looking at her grey hair, I cannot but admit time flies.

My grandpa left us two years ago. The day he passed away, I had no tears to shed. It was a relief to know that he had gone where there was no more pain for him. He had suffered so much.

At 20, Grandad was signed up by the local education authority as a schoolmaster working at a country school deep in the mountains. The school was so remote from his home that a single trip on foot would take him roughly three days. His teaching career at the school lasted for up to 25 years.

While helping with the construction of a schoolhouse one year, Grandad had his spine injured in an accident, leaving him paralysed from the waist down. He ended up bedridden for years and never stood up again. In order not to disturb us, my grandma was looking after him single-handedly around the clock while Grandad was confined to bed.

Staying with them as a child, I loved strawberries a lot. To satiate my craving, my grandpa raised the fruit in his backyard garden. Neither big nor super sweet though most of the berries in the garden were, I am sure they were the loudest love under the sun.

I miss my grandpa very much, but he is gone. I could not love my grandma more. It is not like us to be explicit about emotions. Perhaps I will not say to Gran, face to face, “I love you”, but my affection towards her is no less profound.

Sometimes unspoken love is truer; unsung heroes greater.