Author: Yang Shuhan 楊舒涵
I don’t see my grandma every day. I only go back to visit her on weekends. My grandma is not tall. She dyes her hair brown, though a few strands of white still show through. She loves wearing brightly coloured tops, saying that they make her “look younger.” Every time before singing karaoke, she carefully fixes her hair, puts on a little lipstick, then winks at me and smiles, saying, “You have to look pretty when you sing, then you’ll have more presence!” In that moment, I think she shines even brighter than the singers on television.
But every time I step into her old apartment building, before I even see her, I can already hear her singing coming from the living room. That is her favourite karaoke time.
She always says, “Singing is about being happy. It doesn’t matter if you sing off-key, as long as your mood is right.”
Grandma had a very hard life when she was young. In her early years, she farmed and raised pigs together with Grandpa, while also taking care of several children. She often laughs and says, “Back then, there was no such thing as rest. Work only ended when the sun went down.” Although life was tough, she was always optimistic, shelling beans while singing old songs, as if racing against time, yet also making peace with everyday life.
Grandma doesn’t just sing well; she’s also an amazing cook. Her specialty is braised pork knuckle. The moment she lifts the pot lid; the aroma fills the entire living room. She always says, “Braised meat needs to be cooked slowly over low heat. You can’t rush it. Living life is the same. If you rush, it’ll burn.”
Every time I hear her say that, I feel like she’s revealing the secrets of life.
Whenever I go back on weekends, Grandma always stuffs me with snacks first, then asks, “Have you eaten?”
Her nagging words are actually full of care. She doesn’t cook a wide variety of dishes anymore, but there are a few that never disappear: egg fried rice, radish soup, and her best braised pork knuckle. Every time I eat with great enjoyment, she smiles and says, “As long as you eat, I’m full.”
Now I’m busy with classes and part-time work, and I have fewer chances to visit Grandma on weekends. But whenever I hear someone sing “The Moon Represents My Heart,” I immediately think of her smiling while holding a microphone.
That familiar singing voice feels like a gentle pull, reminding me that no matter how far I go, there is always a place waiting for me to come home.
To me, Grandma is not just family; she is also a teacher in life. She taught me what optimism is, what sincerity is, and what it means to “live happily.” Through a karaoke microphone, she sings out her attitude toward life. No matter how hard life gets, you must face it with a smile.
I think this is the lesson Grandma has given me: being a person doesn’t mean having to be perfect, but being sincere; doing things doesn’t mean everything must go smoothly, but you should always do them with a smile.
我和阿嬤不是每天見面，只有假日才會回去看她。我的阿嬤不高，
頭髮染成棕色，裡頭還夾著幾根白髮。她總愛穿亮色的上衣，說這
樣「看起來比較年輕」。每次唱卡啦OK前，她都會先整理好頭髮、
擦點口紅，然後對我眨眼笑：「唱歌也要漂亮一點，才有氣勢嘛！」
我覺得那一刻的她，比電視上的歌星還耀眼。
但每次踏進她家那棟老公寓，還沒看到人，就先聽到她的歌聲從客
廳傳出來——那是她最愛的卡啦OK時間。
她說：「唱歌就是開心，跑音沒關係，心情對了就好。」
阿嬤年輕的時候很辛苦，早年跟阿公一起種田、養豬，還要照顧好
幾個小孩。她常笑著說：「以前哪有什麼休息，太陽下山才算下
班。」雖然生活艱苦，但她總是樂觀，一邊剝著豆子一邊唱老歌，
像是在跟時間賽跑，又像是在跟日子和解。
阿嬤不只會唱歌，還超會煮飯。她最拿手的是滷豬腳，一打開鍋
蓋，那香味會整個飄滿客廳。她總說：「滷肉要小火慢滷，急不得。
做人也是這樣，太急就會焦。」
我每次聽到她這樣講，都覺得她像在說人生的祕密
每當假日回去，阿嬤總是先塞我一堆零食，然後問我：「吃飯了
嗎？」
她嘴上碎念，其實全是關心。平常她做的菜不多樣，但有幾樣是永
遠不會缺的蛋炒飯、蘿蔔湯、還有她最拿手的滷豬腳！每次我吃得
津津有味，她就會笑說：「你有吃，我就飽啦。」
現在我上課、打工都忙，假日能去阿嬤家的時間變少了。但每當聽
到別人唱〈月亮代表我的心〉，我就會想起她拿著麥克風笑著的樣
子。
那份熟悉的歌聲，像是一種牽掛，提醒我不管走多遠，都有一個地
方在等我回家。
對我來說，阿嬤不只是家人，更是生活的老師。她教我什麼是樂
觀、什麼是誠實、什麼是「活得開心」。她用卡啦OK的麥克風，唱
出的是她的人生態度——不管日子多難，都要笑著過。
我想，這就是阿嬤給我的啟發：[做人不一定要完美，但要真誠、做
事不一定要順利，但要帶著笑。]