In April 2010, my grandmother passed away. Her death made all of my family immerse in sorrow for a period of time. My grandfather did not cry much, instead, he kept silent and stood in his room alone, staring at the old wedding photo on the wall. I worried about my grandfather, so I stayed with him everyday. When the dark was creeping, he lied beside me on the bed, holding a cattail leaf fan, fanning and telling me stories about himself and my grandmother from the past. “You know when I first met her, she was wearing a military uniform…” He told me the story from the first time they met, speaking of the way they joined the army together, and then they got married and had four kids. When I listened to his stories, my thoughts went back to eight years before, with his deep voice. When I was in primary school, I lived with my grandparents in their old house because my parents were busy with their jobs. Behind the old house there was a yard with plum trees, which were planted by my grandmother. She sat under the trees in the sunshine, knitting, and watching me jump up to pick the plums from the tree. When she looked at me I thought she was the person who loved me the most in the world. I always hoped to have a swing in the yard someday, a wooden swing with vines laced through the ropes. I begged my grandfather to make one for me, but he believed that I was so careless that I would surely have an accident. During the next few days, whenever he talked to me, I begged him to make a swing for me.
Finally, he was beaten and made a swing for me. It was the same as the one in my dreams. When I swung to the peak, the entire world was underneath, all of my dreams and imagination of the outside world and possibilities for the future were within my reach. When I swung down into the yard, I went back to the little safe house where I lived. Here was where I