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老客房

grandparent’s room

When I was born, my grandparents flew from China to take care of me while my parents worked. They stayed in this room upstairs, and before I had my own room I slepted here as well. It’s a modest space, with two south-facing windows that receive beautiful winter sun on clear days.

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Figure 1: 3-year old Wilbur with his spaceship table in the background
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Figure 2: The same corner window 15 years later

When lao lao (grandmother) on my Mom’s side moved in, the room started out with white walls a CRT TV with a small bed under the windows. While I slept with lao lao, I added two other pieces of furniture. One was a small plastic table with blue legs, and the other was a foldable purple sofa bed that I’d lounge around on.

Mornings were always hard here. I’d beg for more sleep before kindergarden, so lao lao pratically carried me out of bed each day. She’d coerce me by turning on the TV and dressing me while I watched Treehouse cartoons. In the afternoons, I’d drag up my plastic play table and flip it upside down on the floor. Grandma always wanted me to nap instead, but why sleep when you can play? I’d push the loose legs like throttles and transmissions, hollering as I passed by imaginary planets. All the while, lao lao would lie quietly waiting for me to tire out. I admire the patience she must have had with me.

Any other memory I have of this time is a blur, but there two others that I can still recall. There was one night where I felt a runny nose, but didn’t think much of it. I woke up the next day feeling something wet underneath me. So I turn around, and saw my pillow completely soaked red. Turns out, the "snot" was really a stubborn nose bleed. Lao lao seemed calm while she helped me get up, but she later told me that she was terrified that I’d pass out. Mom still occasionally mentions the whole thing, and we both get a good laugh out of it.

Another night, my brother knocked on the door and jumped me by wearing a Balaclava over his face. I thought he was a terrorist that broke in and was going to stab us. I bawled my eyes out that day while mom and lao lao gave him a very firm scolding.

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Figure 3: Me with nai nai (left) and ye ye (right) by Niagra Falls
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Figure 4: Various items they stored in the bedside table

In third grade the room changed again. Lao lao went back to China, tag-teaming with my nai nai and ye ye on dad’s side. They kept some furniture and threw out the rest, and the room has stayed the same ever since. The old Mcdonald’s mat on the table, the wicker chair by the door, so on and so forth. I also had my own room now, so I was spending less and less time here.

Despite all this, I still came to this room every night. Nai nai and ye ye were adamant on me comming to say goodnight to them every day, so visiting the room became part of my routine. Sometimes I’d go and cuddle between them for a bit, which turned into pranking as I got older. I would get into the closet while they were showering and hide until they got into bed. Somedays I’d get so neverous that I’d worry they’d hear my heart beating. When I did burst out of the closet, nai nai would leap in fright and ye ye would scold me for almost killing her.

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Figure 5: Ye ye’s mug that he used to hold hot water

I don’t do any of this anymore obviously. Nai nai and ye ye moved out a few months ago, and I haven’t opened this door since then. I’m scared that if I do, the smells and memories of the room would spill out and vanish into thin air. Maybe one day I can find the courage to turn that knob, open the curtains, and take care of the room that’s done so much for me years earlier.

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