A Trip Back Home

I went home this weekend, not for Lunar New Year, or just New Years, depending on who you ask, but it was a pleasant coincidence. I was glad to see the little things my parents put out to celebrate; we don’t do anything big. The bowl of crunchy snacks, the glutinous cake recipe sitting out, mixed with the familiar sights of home: dishes drying on the stovetop, my mom's attempt to freeze lemon juice while saving the lemon peels to freshen up the fridge — a sign that my uncle's lemon tree was bountiful this year. A hideous paper and cardboard dragon craft that I made as a kid hanging on the new bookshelf my dad made, the sawdust still littering the garage I entered through. My mom handed me my red envelopes for the year, and I said the all-too-familiar New Year's sayings in return. I hope my pronunciations of the language I never completely got a hang of don’t bring her to shame.

I walked into my bedroom to find my childhood stuffed animal holding a gift. Was anyone else obsessed with Despicable Me as a kid? When we went to Universal Studios, my aunt spoiled me with the huge stuffed unicorn. My dad got me an ex-library copy of a movie about Oscar Wilde. He remembers that I loved The Picture of Dorian Gray, and I even got a new copy for him to read one day, because mine is full of annotations and sticky notes. This was two years ago. I'm not sure if he'll ever read it, books in English, especially classics, are tough since English isn't his first language. He also got me a few books while thrifting for his beloved CDs. He texted me while I was away to make sure I wanted a copy of War and Peace, alongside a few others. Some things never change.

The good mixes with the bad until it is like a fog I can barely see through. It seems that bad news has been hitting me from all sides like stones. I wonder how much of it I could’ve prevented, what I can do now. But some things are out of my control. I frequently worry. I cry randomly; thoughts of a future event or even the possibility are enough to bring tears to my eyes. I can hardly focus on such matters because there are all too many day-to-day responsibilities on my shoulders that I must attend to. I try to remind myself to do the little things as I do the big things: pay rent, cook food, answer emails, study, sleep, wash my hair. It’s all I can do.

I wish the holiday was more joyous, but what I’ve learned is life doesn’t wait for anyone or anything

Feb. 12, 2024