“I was the happiest in the family when my youngest son brought home a wife. Good or bad, she was now my own daughter. Most of the times we did the home chores together. We shared our duty. She would cook while I looked after the animals. By late afternoon we took turns napping. Sometimes we had a misunderstanding but it did not take us long to resolve it. When she was pregnant, I took care of her. Sometimes, I made chicken broth and sometimes sweet pudding. My son was very happy that he was going to be a father. But our happiness also became our sorrow. My daughter-in-law died while giving birth. My heartache was boundless but my son’s hurt was bigger than mine. I swallowed my tears and took the newborn in my lap. My daughter-in-law had left the new life to me and I was not to break her trust. I fed him, bathed him, put him to bed and played with him. He became the purpose of my life. The poor kid never could see his mother and sometimes I cry for him. Sometimes in my dreams, I see his mother return home. I see the son and the mother hug each other and run around the house. The house fills with laughter and everyone is happy. But I wake up and it is only a dream. Today, my grandson has become a healthy toddler. He must be somewhere with his friend running around. He will return soon and I will hug him like his mother would. I will run around the house chasing him and he will laugh. And for some time as I fulfil his childish demands, I will forget our loss.”