I waswatching some funny Gordon’s videos on YouTube cheerfully in my bedroom whilemy father shouted. It seemed he was very furious since my full name had beencalled, but he looked placid cooking our lunch as usual when I just abandonedmy videos and hurried to him. So, I didn't know whether I did the wrong thingor not.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I think you’d better have a phone call with yourgrandma, you know, she’s experiencing a ‘difficult time’ now.” answered my dadwith an apparently calm voice.
My grandpahad left her months ago due to pulmonary disease and my uncle just moved to anew town. She had to stay in the doleful house dealing with her reminiscencealone, without the company of my elder brother who was busying preparing hisGaokao. Also, the COVID-19 had made her nervous and dysphoric.
These werethe “news” broadcasted every morning during our family breakfasts.
"Well,"said my dad, "do you want to make a call now?"
It wasannoying because A) he asked me this same question twice a day, and B) I couldnot bear my grandma's long, old, and repeated stories that she wanted to tellme every time in a conversation. I just wanted to leave my dad and my grandmaas far as possible.
“Umm… Is this a command?” I was sure he could feelmy resistance.
“Hey, kid,” but he probably ignored that, “thefamily should always take care of each other. Come on!”
Fine. Itook his cellphone and dialed my grandma’s number.
It was ananxious time since I did not prepare any script. My brain was turningfrantically, trying to grab some complemental words in order to finish thetask. I could not neglect my dad’s sincere stare or stop imagining my grandma’sexcited voice. What did he want me to talk about? What if I made himdisappointed? How would she think about my peculiar phone call? Was this thething she really needs?
“Good morning, son.” I then heard my grandma’svoice.
“Hi… Grandma… It’s me…” my voice was shivering.
“Oh! Annita[my nickname]!” said my grandma, “How areyou? I mean, recently.”
“Umm… Good…” I answered.
……
Oh! God!What an awkward silence!
Iattempted to find some interesting topic but the only thing that came up was mydad’s odd-tasting cuisine. So I asked, “Did you finish your lunch?”
“No, I am working on it,” said her, “and I may haveto hang up now.”
That wasit. Our three-minute talk ended, and two minutes of it was stillness. I couldnot think of an even more embarrassing phone call than this one.
Although Iset a system that picking up my cell phone and making a phone call to mygrandma, and decided to chat with her to help her overcome the negativetendency once a week, I shrank. This was much harder than I imagined and theworst thing was I was unable to defeat my fear. Certainly, it shall be my firstcall and last call.
In therest of that week, I racked my brain to escape from the next possible call,including rushing into the restroom when hearing my name, pretending to badgerwith a physics question, or even locking the door of my room. Until now, theyseemed incomparably useful.
However,when I lied on my bed, thinking about those bothering, I could not deceivemyself. Certainly, I understood the importance of the conversation with mygrandma. Her probable suffering, miserable emotions seemed to decoct my heart.I felt like a forceless frog that floundered in the boiling water, trying toseize my fragmentized conscience.
All theweek those sentiments had driven me mad. I had no idea how to comfort a familymember who was immersed in deep sorrow for her husband’s death. I found that Iwas really bad at dealing with the close relationship between family since Icould simply realize my friend was distressing or my teacher was chuffed, butcould not analyze whether my parents were angry or not. Every time I thought ofmy grandma’s greeting on the phone and tried to prepare some sentences for thepossible next call at any time, my mind became an empty trash can. Ideas frozeand the brain started to shut down. It was embarrassed for my mouth to jump outany useful phrases about consoling her. Family’s solace, or self-comfort zone—— I was on a libra’s two ends, vacillating and staggering.
My dad’swords, “the family should always take care of each other,” just came into mymind then. That was what the family did. I wanted to face the fear inside myheart and helped my grandma overcome her difficulties. Truly, that was what thefamily did.
The firstthing I planned to do was to get suggestions from someone who seemed neverexperience such problems. Of course, my dad, he was the first person I came outof. Therefore, on one sunny afternoon, I had a talk with him.
“What’s wrong?” he sat in his recliner, relaxing,“Are you still upset about the phone call?”
“Ah! Yes.” I answered.
“Oh it’s not hard, ” he smiled, “you can justthink about talking to your (maternal) grandma. You never felt nervous whendoing so, right?”
Talking tomy maternal grandma? Maybe.
“But maternal grandma is different. Like… she liveswith us, and we meet twice a week. I am very familiar with her, but not with mygrandma.” I thought these two situations were unlike.
“I know, I know,” my dad replied, giving me moresuggestions, “I mean you can just imagine you are talking to your maternalgrandma. You will never find yourself wordless in front of her, won’t you?”
“No.” I murmured.
“All right,” he said, “then just consider yourgrandma as someone you are really familiar with, and you can share your dailyinteresting events with her. Well, how about starting with ‘How’s the family?’I think this is how we show our concern to our family.”
He thenlooked straight into my eyes, “Listen, kid. You know how important and helpfulyour phone call will be. You will do that. You will help your grandma, yes? Yesor no?”
“Yes… I will try to…” answered I.
That wasthe first step. Then I began to set a detailed plan.
First,dialing her number and greeting.
Second,asking the recent developments of the family and she may then talk about whatwas happening at home.
Third, sharingmy activities in my school with her.
Fourth,reminding her to take care of her health.
That nightI leaned on the sill and touched the icy marble surface, feeling that a streamof cold water infused the scalding tank and stimulated the frog to jump out ofit.
Come on,Icy! That was not a big deal. Encouraging myself, I took my cellphone anddialed my grandma’s number.
“Hi! Kid,” I knew she was delightful, “are you ok?”
“Yes,” I answered, “and…”
Do it!Just say it!
“…and how’s the family?” I took a breath.
As soon asI spoke out that sentence, my grandma started describing her new and cheaprolling pin bought from a local nearly bankrupt convenience store. I breathe asigh of relief. She just kept talking and talking, and my only mission was tobe a silent audience.
This time,I could feel the happiness she delivered to me. That was the power of family. Ithought. I understood why my dad advised me to use that sentence. This was thefirst time I gained it, and certainly, this must never be the last time.
Thefollowing steps went on successfully. She discussed her awful afternoon teawhich was a glass of sour orange juice and I discussed my wordy grammar teacherand her thirteen pages homework. In the end, I wished her to stay healthy andshe said the same thing to me.
When wehung up, we both considered this phone call a prosperous one that we evendidn’t want to stop chatting. I succeeded. This was a really, really excellentbeginning. I had already made a favoring call and defeated the fear, and I wassure that it also had some promising impacts on her.
In thefollowing days, we made more phone calls and talked more. The longer time Ichatted with her, the more interest I found through our “family’s care.” Now Iknew that she was worried about the insufficient pepper inventory but no shopactually sold it and she might be impressed by the scaring conflict between myroommates. Every day we shared our stories with each other and listened to eachother’s trouble. She was getting more and more cheerful, escaping from her deepsorrow. I was like a frog finally broached out of the water surface by gainingpower from her grandma’s words to dealing with her massive assignments.
I wasextremely delighted that I set this system and helped both my grandma and I tolive better lives. Every time I thought of the sentence my dad taught me ——“How’s the family?” —— I could feel the power of family love.