My grandma has a brother. We call him grandad Nhã.
Granddad is a Facebook enthusiast. He has 209 friends and a wall full of posts. Granddad is also a poet.
One of my favourite is a series he titled “Thứ Bảy. Đến hẹn lại lên” (“It’s Saturday, be seeing you again”). He posts them every Saturday. Sometimes they’re travel anecdotes, sometimes they’re narration of the people and things that he encountered.
On Saturday when I mindlessly scroll through my Facebook feed, I would unfailingly run into his poems.
Sometimes I earnestly consider every words, sometimes I passively glimpse through the paragraph, nevertheless, I take great pleasure in the simple act of seeing them.
Last Saturday, I searched for his Facebook profile. His poems are absent.
Last Saturday, I counted, it’s been 123 Saturday’s since he’s passed.
Image of vessel “A jar for Saturday”