On the streets of downtown Vancouver, Gong Gong’s movements were more of a shuffle. He urgently needed me to slip into the restaurant and inquire about a washroom. I walked in and heavy waves upon waves of my usual panicked shyness swallowed my voice. Upon return, I reported there wasn’t one available. I lied . . . because I never asked. My stoic Chinese grandfather sat on the bus in his urine-stained pants. Yet he still smiled at me. My heart sank into an awareness that my timid nature would never serve anyone. Soaked in regret, I left that me behind.
Sandra Matthews is a first generation Chinese Canadian writer. She specializes in picture books of many genres. She misses her Gong Gong. www.authorsandramatthews.com Instagram and X: @Author_Sandra_M