In passing
==========

* Lauren Kelley-Chew

*   Creative writing

> The last time I saw my grandmother *Po* alive,
> 
> she wore brown twill slacks, a thin apron,
> 
> perfume of water lily, ginger, jasmine.

> Now her face is bloated, rounder than I remember.
> 
> Hair white at the roots, tips still purple
> 
> from her do-it-at-home dye kit.

> Tubes removed from her throat; the army of machines
> 
> stands down. My grandfather bent over her body,
> 
> anointing her cheek with tiger balm,
> 
> repeating *yesterday we were shopping*,
> 
> *yesterday we were grocery shopping*. I imagine them
> 
> pushing a cart down an aisle of apples.

> Grandfather's fingers trace the deep lines of *Po*'s hands,
> 
> the words come softly through his lips
> 
> *won't be long till I am walking with you.*

> I see first *Po'*s bound feet under the sheet:
> 
> crippled since infancy, finally resting.
> 
> Obsolete relics, long abandoned.

> How many times I unwrapped layered strips
> 
> of cotton to wash her toes with mild soap,
> 
> soaking them in warm water and chamomile.

> Tonight, in the bathtub, I will bend my toes under,
> 
> imitating *Po*'s bandages with a wet washcloth, releasing
> 
> my feet back into the steaming water like freed fish.

> Later I will learn how the doctors shocked *Po*'s
> 
> fragile body on the count of one, two, three,
> 
> the way she rose into the air, for a moment suspended
> 
> like flying,
> 
> like falling.

> I am too young to know complicated tears.
> 
> Motionless at her side I do only what a grandchild
> 
> does for a grandmother before parting—
> 
> I lean down to her cooling forehead
> 
> and kiss it.

## Footnotes

*   Competing interests None.

*   Provenance and peer review Not commissioned; internally peer reviewed.