One day, you might turn to your loved one, only to find an empty space and regret like Hugo. He was always ashamed of his late Grandma Rosemary, who worked as a street sweeper. He condemned her when he only inherited an urn of ashes after her death until it shattered on the floor. Hugo, a 25-year-old guitarist, arrived at his late Grandma Rosemary’s cottage, feeling out of place. His memories in the old, shabby house were so different compared to his current life in New York. “Grandma,” he muttered solemnly through tight lips. He apologized to the air for missing her funeral and walked around her humble place, looking at the photos of his childhood with her. They did nothing but bring back painful memories of his actions and attitude. He was embarrassed by her job as a street sweeper back then. Now, he was ashamed of himself and how he treated her. “Hugo, honey, walk to the side. Be careful. Watch out!” she used to remind him when taking him to school, but he ignored her. His fingers touched the old study table she bought him that he had rejected so easily. “Grandma, this old thing? Seriously?” Hugo had taunted. He wanted a gaming console, but his grandmother couldn’t afford that.
Walking to the kitchen, Hugo mocked Rosemary’s best dishes as her being creative because she couldn’t afford anything fancy. But he was a demanding child, always wanting more and more. She tried to be cheerful. “Next time, honey bee!” Rosemary would promise. But she couldn’t fulfill anything, and he only resented her. It was a shame that it took him so long to understand how ungrateful he was. He entered her bedroom, filled with old stuff, including a wooden crib and a partially sewn shirt she had been making for him. “Unbelievable, Grandma! On a scale of ten, how confident were you that I would come to see you all these years?” Hugo mused, shaking his head. Clothes… another memory of his past surfaced—the prom debacle from 8 years ago. Obviously, he wanted something striking and had secretly admired an expensive suit at a boutique but felt resentful once again towards his grandmother for having no money. After being teased at school because kids knew he couldn’t afford a good suit for prom, Hugo returned home and slammed the door to his room. “Honey bee, please open the door. Is it a girl? Did she reject your proposal or something?” Rosemary had knocked, her voice soothing and concerned. But he didn’t want anything to do with her at that moment. Frustrated about their financial situation, he screamed into his pillow. Rosemary had waited for Hugo to join her for dinner that night, but he refused, leaving her worried and alone at the table. The following day, she hurried to prepare a good breakfast, but he brushed her off and left in a hurry. Hugo’s memories continued to haunt him as he walked through his grandmother’s old house. He recalled a time when his friends had mocked Rosemary while she worked, and his face turned red in shame, so he lashed out at them. “Shut up, guys! Just shut up!” he had snapped, trying to walk away.