My Great-Grandpa

Growing up, I always found it weird that my great-grandpa only had one picture in the entire family album. It was really mind-boggling for the family loved taking pictures. Even before my generation popularized it, it had already been a family tradition. And all of the said pictures were kept in the attic.

Going up at the topmost part of our house had been my most favorite past time. I loved rummaging through mountains of photo albums and be amazed at how different the world was back then. I'd stroll along the streets of Prague, marvel at Mount Fuji, swim on the beautiful beaches of Boracay, attend prestigious award shows like Tony, run through the hills of Vienna -- I could travel the world and experience new things.

But when the fun and excitement subside, before I end my adventure, I'd grab the old and tattered brown photo album. 1930 was blazoned on a small, golden plate.

I carefully tucked it on my lap and opened it. The first page immediately fell and thanks to my trained reflexes, I caught it in time. I slowly put it back on its place and gazed at it.

A tall, young woman pranced around a sunflower field, pink lips smiling at the camera gleefully. Slightly slanted brown eyes sparked with love, and right hand placed firmly behind her straw hat in an attempt to fight against the breeze.

I caressed the picture before my fingers rested on her face. A face that mirrored my own...

I turned to the next page which had the picture I could gaze at forever and still, that wouldn't be enough to solve the puzzles hidden in it. The same woman, now evidently older, was cradling a baby on her arms. Beside her was a youthful-looking man, shyly giving the camera a small smile. His heather brown hair was messy and unkept while the silver glasses on his face was slightly crooked. Ironically though, his suit was freshly ironed.

That was my great-grandpa. And this was the only picture we had of him.

I remember asking my grandmother about the story behind this photo. She just laughed and patted me gently on the head with her thin, wrinkled hand.

"My dear Lin," she slowly said. "Your great-grandma always told me this, 'Your father was really camera shy. I forced him to take this picture with me. He was so awkwardly cute'."

We both giggled. Obachan was a really great woman. She always pat my head, a gesture that my great-grandpa apparently always did to her before his disappearance.

I could still remember the tears on grandma's face when I asked what happened to Grandpa Juan. He suddenly went missing one day during one of his business trips while grandma was still six years old. The local government sent a search party but he was never found again.

Since then, I couldn't get off my mind why Grandpa Juan only had one picture. Surely before his death, he had other photos, right? But before I could ask Obachan about it, she died. I tried to ask mother but she had no idea. Sighing, I just accepted the fact that the story behind my Grandpa Juan was one of the world's unsolved mysteries.

And so, I moved on with my life, questions about my great grandpa lurking in the deepest parts of my mind.

For a long time, I didn't think about him and just focused on my life.

Till now.

I lived a really great life. The family business which Grandpa Juan started became even more successful under my management. I was actually called "The Goddess of Luck" because whenever I had problems, especially when it's money-related, a few days later, it'll be solved on its own.