day 11-a deceased person you wish you could talk to

my grandpa passed away 2 years ago. it was of lung cancer. it was sad. first time someone had died in my life...my grandpa spent a lot of time with me when i was a toddler in china, before i moved to australia at 5 yrs old.

i remember him taking me to and from ballet lessons and that on the taxi home, he would always have peanuts, or a lollipo, or something exciting for a 5 year old. i remember when he didnt have them, i would get really upset for like 10 min like a toddler does, but it would b all gud agn wen he somehow made me smile. i remember how he was a rlly gud story teller and that he would make up all these stories all the time for my bro and i. one was about a mouse who was looking for someone i think...another was about a bear who lived in a cave and had no toilet paper lol cos bears used toilet paper =]

he would always teach me short poems and famous rhymes and i would remember all of them and we would walk around saying them together. when i went back to china a few years ago, i remember how there were rows of big trees across the road to my aunties house, on the edge of a river. we climbed so many trees, and we climbed up mountains. my grandpa used to love climbing mountains, he would just keep walking on and on and we would all have to catch up to him.

he lived through the times when china got invaded by japan and felt strongly about the war. he was in the army his entire life, in the navy i think. and my god the amount he writes. he used to keep journals and wrote basically everyday, i went into his room and on one side was just stacks and stacks of paper and books that hed written throughout his life. im guessing thats where i got my love of writing? ye i dont rlly write anymore, but i used to love writing all the time =] i only feel real regret when i realize im prob not ever gonna learn how to read and write in chinese properly cos then id never be able to read the hundreds of pages my grandpa wrote. when he was sick with lung cancer , he wrote a letter to me and my brother, it was 4 pages long, written on thin, delicate paper that reminded me of him and just lines and lines of beautiful cursive chinese. i have it in my desk. i just feel heavy wen i remember that i cant read it...

the day i was gonna go on the flight back to australia from my trip to china few years ago, he called me into his room and told me about the pages and pages of writing he had wrote about his life. he told me that the name of his book was named after a famous mountain in szechuan ,where he grew up and told me to not forget it and showed me a picture of it on the map. i really cant remember it now. agh i feel so sad.

i also remember that wen he'd heard id got into state finalists of a writing competion, he encouraged me to one day write something that would be published in a newspaper. i promised myself that that would be one of the things id do before i die. of course, i miss him.

to prevent my mood from falling any further, ima stop this post right here. well that turned out to be more emotional than id thought...