The Greatest Distance

It’s been a long time that I didn’t talk to my great grandfather. He’s already 97 years old. He lives in Mioli. Due to busy school work and long traveling time, I seldom visit him. Last time we talk was in his 97^th birthday dinner last December. He always wears a hat to keep his head warm. Years of time carved wrinkles all over his face. His eyes remain sharp even they are small and barely can see. He loves to seat in his rocking chair in the afternoon and watch Taiwanese folk opera with my great grandmother. When I was little, my great grandfather used to take me around, walking along on the country road and introduce the history of the buildings. Born in the Japanese colonial period, he witnessed lots of things. He remember the Japanese ruling; though most people stereotypically consider Japanese are vicious, he did not tell me what they’d done bad but what they’d done good. They constructed many modern infrastructures and sanitation, making the death rate rapidly decrease. He also remembered the day when the KMT came to Taiwan, everyone excitedly cheered for their arrival and soon became disappointed by their corruption. My great grandfather told me so many stories that I can’t exactly remember all of them.

Yet, last time we visit him, he couldn’t remember who I am. He couldn’t recognize me, nor my sister, nor my mother, nor any other relatives. When I stood right in front of him, I only felt the farthest distance –– that I missed someone so much but he couldn’t know.

 

The Day We Met

Last Sunday we sent our dog to get ligation. We hospitalized it for a week. Today, we finally got it back from the vet. When it saw our face from the cage, it shook its tail so hard that it bounced a rhythmic beat against the iron bars of the cage. It looked as if it saw a pool of water in front of it after wandering in desert for days. This actually reminded me of the day when we first picked it up from the stray. Yes, it is a stray dog. It hometown is in Nanliao. We met on the PAS biking field trip. Someone saw it roaming around the street alone. When they picked it up, they found out that it is sick. They thus decided to bring it back and offer it with medical treatments as well as a home. After several discussions (and some disputed) with my family, we adopted it. At first, we worried that it could survive. Back then it’s January, it’s very cold. And the one-month old puppy was sick. Yet, as if it was a miracle, the little puppy recovered from the illness and grew to a beautiful hound dog. We serve it with cooked pumpkin and potato for everyday meals. We also massage it every night, making sure that its muscle is relaxed and it is comfortable. We even bath it with Hinoki soothing oil, so that its fur is smooth and shining. Given these kinds of high class care every day, it has considered itself as human rather than as a dog. As a result, it must freak out when it live in the hospital, along with other animals that are not belongs to its “species”.

However, I am glad it is back. Although it will spoil the little dog, I kind of enjoy when I serve the dog as if it holds some VIP membership in my family.

Dance and live

Today is the Dancing Performance of Hot 5, the dance club of Hsinchu Girl Senior High School, which is the high school I attended before I went to PAS. I was pretty nervous when I first enter the performing place. They are my friends but we’ve lost contact and didn’t talk for a long time. I don’t know what to say when I saw them. The only thing I can do was to sit down, wait, and watch. The sophomores started the opening dance, which was very entertaining. Then it’s the juniors’ performance. I was astonished by their dance. They improved a lot. All of them were dissolved in the music. Their arms and legs stroke and stretched perfectly. Their dance move was so beautiful as if it was the language between the dancers and the audience. They conveyed their emotions as the hip hop rhythm guided them. As the music went on, they kept on spinning, jumping, and posing. The performance only lasted for 4 hours. Yet, I knew that 4 hours of dancing came from practicing for 6 months; no matter there’s a cold current, a hot sun, or a heavy rain, they just kept on dancing. I was touched when I saw them present their efforts to the audience. They are no longer the same people I knew—they’ve grown. During the performance, I was speechless. No words can describe my amazement. I could only hear and feel the music and their moves. It’s really glad to see a group of people share their enjoyment of dancing and do what they love to do. With unconditional devotion and infinite passion, they will dance on. WE dance on.