All the words I could not say,

Olivia Zhang
Letters, Alive
Published in
2 min readApr 17, 2022

my dear Grandpa

Photo by Neora Aylon on Unsplash

爷爷,

我爱你。我想你。

All the words I could not say, in more ways than one. I hope you saw my smile. The sun on my face — it was a beautiful day. I was on my way to a reading workshop on new ideas I wanted to discover. I was 15 minutes late because of our call. I wish I wasn’t so far away. I wish I could reach you. You were lying there in the small square screen. You had tubes coming out of your throat and your nose. Your mouth was open, not shutting. Did you have words to say? Did you have words for me? Were you thinking them as I smiled and waved through my camera? Did you hear me when I said, “爷爷”? I only said it once. I don’t know why I couldn’t say it again. I want to call you. Did you hear me? Your eyes were open as 奶奶 held you and Uncle held the phone up. Did you see me? Do you see me now? I love you.

~ 若然

handwritten, Friday, April 15, 2022

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Letters, Alive
Letters, Alive

Published in Letters, Alive

The scribbles in my journals, the ink on pastel sticky notes dotting my walls, the one-line notes on my phone, the words of others remembered and collected like priceless ocean pearls by my reaching hands, to their speakers merely grains of sand on a beach of passing thoughts