i wonder if he looks back on his life and feels disappointment. this man who calls two strangers his granddaughters, strangers who can’t speak in his tongue and who know nothing about him. not even his name. to us he is ye-ye and not much more.
i wonder if i will cry when he dies. ye-ye has heart problems again, my dad tells me. his arteries are too small, the blood can’t get through. i don’t think i will cry
but i can sense my dad’s quiet panic. it manifests itself in his voice, the number of phone calls back to china, his google searches on my laptop that appear on my phone.
he knows his father’s time is coming, and guilt scratches at my throat because the tears don’t come.