I miss you.

We had wanted to make a video for er gu for her birthday. The request was made: grandchildren to film individual videos. Parents to opt in if they wanted to say something to their sister.

Gong gong to wish her happy birthday.

They said he wouldn't do it. It's not appropriate for the elders to wish the youngsters. He won't do it.

But he did.

--

It was National Day. Father had bought Giordano National Day shirts for the entire family. He bought a special one for gong gong - it was a collared shirt with a blue stripe across the middle. It was different and it was beautiful. But it didn't matter because he wouldn't want to wear it. I asked father if I could try to talk to him. He won't want to. But you can try. So we went down to the basement and I asked gong gong if he'd like to wear the shirt for the photo taking. He said he was so skinny,that he would be smothered by the shirt. Xiao shu held the shirt up for him to see and told him that it wasn't too big, that his sturdy, while scrawny, frame would fit the shirt smartly. So he took it and put it over his head. Xiao shu had to guide his arms through the sleeves but he eventually put it on. And xiao shu was right. He looked so smart. He came up shortly to take photos with us.

They said he wouldn't do it. They said he didn't care for these silly little practices and wasn't going to put on a costume for our entertainment. They said he wouldn't.

But he did.

--

It was the dinner after Chinese New Year. We had a feast of a spread, as usual. The usual offerings of pig's trotters, steamed fish and gong gong's exclusive portion of salmon sashimi were featured on the dining table. Father picked up a piece of shao rou and teasingly asked gong gong if he wanted it. The table lit up in interjections and protests about how he wouldn't be able to chew the firm meat. They said he wouldn't want it. But amidst the flurry of opinions, gong gong quietly gestured to father to give him a piece. He worked on that one piece for a long time but he eventually finished it. For the rest of the night, gong gong was in high spirits, talking animatedly and keeping himself engaged by sitting close to the table. He'd usually have left the table after an hour after dinner. But he stayed behind till it had grown good and dark. Then he slowly got up and retired to his room.

I don't know what made that night so special. But for as many nights and dinners as I can recall, I had always hoped that gong gong wouldn't disappear so quickly after the meal. That he'd stay behind and be with us for a while longer.

And on that night, he did.

--

Perhaps gong gong did these things for us because he knew that they were going to be the last time he ever did them.