Page, my younger brother by four years, has been braindamaged from birth. He does not speak, cannot hear and see poorly through his remaining eye. He stays home, staring at the television happily. But it wasn’t always this way.
On a lot summer morning, Mum had penciled “VISIT GRANDMA” for Page in large letters on a napkin before we left for the nursing home. No one expected to understand that this might be our last visit.
We arrived there and stepped into her room. The strokes had left grandma trembling and unresponsive. Her mouth hung open, and her wide eyes shut and opened quickly and stared but appeared not to see.
We stood round the bed, smiling uncomfortably, and saying that everything would be all right. For the first time, I was free to talk all I wanted.
Page was standing quietly next to the window with his face brilliant red, tears following from his eyes. Just then, he pushed through the group and made his way to the bed. He leaned over Grandma’s withered body and took her cheeks gently in his hands.
Those of us with healthy ears were deaf to the volumes being spoken in that wonderful, wordless exchange.
We kissed Grandma, and slowly walked out of the room one by one. I was the last to leave. “Bye, Grandma,” I said. As I turned to look at her one last time, I noticed her lips come together, as if she was trying to speak. Somehow, if for a moment, she gathered the strength to say goodbye.
That afternoon by Grandma’s deathbed, when none of us knew what to say, my speechless brother had said it all.
| A．Head bowed, he stood there, his cheeks wet with tears. |
| B．That is when I knew Page had reached her. |
| C．I tried to express my love to her. |
| D．I felt a rush of warmth deep inside me. |
| E．Nobody thought he would appeared and burst out crying. |
| F．But I could think of nothing to say to her. |
