Hey Grandpa,

It’s cold in Rochester today. It snowed a bit last night. I love when there’s a layer of pure snow in the morning - something about it gives me hope for the day to come.

I’m missing you today. Do you remember when you took Vincent and me to Tiananmen Square to fly kites? We were yelling and laughing so loudly that everyone turned to watch us. There was even somebody who took his camera out and started taking pictures of us. I remember thinking at the time that no picture could ever capture what I felt during that moment.

All I have of you are these brief, fleeting memories: sitting on your lap, playing Gameboy Pokemon in Japanese while you faithfully translated every scrolling line of text; sitting by the piano after dinner while you played and sang at the top of your lungs; waking up to see you outside raking leaves, always in the same gray hat; wrestling you to the ground during snowball fights.

I remember the last time we saw each other. We were leaving your apartment in Beijing to go to the airport. The taxi had come to pick us up, and you and Grandma were crying. I guess you both knew this might be the last time we would see each other. I was too young to know or think about anything like that - I only remember being excited to finally be going home to America. I wonder what I would have done if I had known at the time. I guess it would have been harder to watch and wave at you guys as we drove away.

Mommy tells me about you all the time. She always says I remind her so much of you. I’m an English major, you know. She says you would be so proud of that, since you were a literature professor. She tells me stories about your students running up to you in the streets to pay their respects; about how at your funeral, hundreds upon hundreds of your former students came from all around the world to say goodbye.

Sometimes, I want so badly to see you one more time and just talk to you. I’m not a man yet, but I’m trying. I hope I’m becoming someone you can be proud of - someone you want to brag about to all your friends while exchanging stories about grandchildren. I wonder if you know that I’m thinking about being a teacher too. Or that every time I see a professor jump up and down in class, or break out in song, or cajole students into hysterical laughter, I think of you.

I’m just writing this letter to let you know that I’m doing fine. Jiujiu, Jiuma, and Satsuki visited America this year for the first time in a couple of years. Jiujiu told me he was so surprised by how much I was like you. He and Mom both say I’m always happy, whatever that means. I guess you were too. I think about you a lot - I think we would have made a hell of a team. I hope everything is going great for you too. All of us miss you and Grandma a lot. Someday, we’ll be together again. Until then, I’ll hold these brief, fleeting memories close to my heart, always trying to make you proud.

Love,

Jason