Heavenly Grandpa's Birthday
I've been trying to fall asleep;
I wish I could sleep well tonight.
Why can’t I drift off as easily as usual?
Is it because my grandkids will leave Wufeng tomorrow,
returning to Hualien, where they live with their parents?
No, I don’t think so—though they did say
how sad they were about leaving.
But there’s no need for them to feel sad.
Before they fell asleep, I reassured them:
we will visit them in Hualien every month,
or at most, every month and a half.
Now, my grandchildren are asleep;
their soft, steady breathing tells me so.
They rest between my wife and me—
grandparents who love them deeply
and promise to see them (and their parents) often.
I hear my wife’s breathing, too.
She has fallen asleep as well.
The day must have tired her—
a day spent with family,
visiting her 96-year-old mother in Dajia,
seeing familiar faces, sharing stories,
before returning home to Wufeng this evening.
We brought our grandkids along
so they could see their great-grandmother.
She was delighted, her joy spilling over
into red envelopes—hongbao, once again!
It’s the ninth day of the first lunar month today.
Before the Lunar New Year, my mother-in-law
had already given each of us a hongbao—
including my son, daughter-in-law, and grandsons.
But today, she insisted on giving more,
placing another hongbao in my grandchildren’s hands
when she saw them in person.
Happiness filled this special day—
the ninth day of the first lunar month,
known as Tiangong Sheng—
the birthday of the Heavenly Grandpa.
And yet, sleep escapes me tonight.
At first, I don’t understand why.
I search for the reason,
wondering why rest will not come.
Then, it strikes me—
there is only one possible reason.
Ten years ago, in 2015,
on this very day,
my dear father passed away.
= = =
Note: This piece was written late at night on the ninth day of the first lunar month in the Year of the Snake (本篇文字寫於蛇年正月初九深夜).
