In Some Ways, Mom Never Left
- Mom played basketball with my dad and brother. In fact, it was a slam dunk contest. I can see her double-dribbling as she stomps toward the basket, leap a few inches off the ground, and toss the ball underneath the basket. The finale, of course, would be her beaming grin, arms up in a giant V for victory, immensely proud of her awesomeness.
- Her rambunctious exclamations during mahjong impressed players and spectators alike. If she had good tiles, the table would know. If she had shit tiles, the table would know. When she lost, she shouted, “Ha?!” (Cantonese for “What?!”) She immediately inspected the next few tiles, hunting for the one piece she needed to win, while shouting that she should have tossed this tile or that tile instead. When she won, she’d clap and grin, like it’s her birthday.
- The way Kimmy mothered the group over dinner reminds me of Mom. She was so picky about which pot the beef goes vs. which pot the the lamb goes. She was so indignant when criticized about her distinction between beef and lamb. I could almost see Mom, hands at her sides, pouting. And of course, the way she keeps fiddling around and serving everyone out of love.
I’m grateful for:
- Black sesame paste with sticky rice balls. Hong Kong people really know how to eat.
- Tram rides home. Slow and steady, like a turtle, it makes its way back home. 56 minutes after getting on the tram, I arrive home, and quickly run to the bathroom.
- “You remind me of my mother” is the sexiest line ever, NOT, but tonight I’m grateful for the way Kimmy smothered the group, just like Mom.
- Being from New York, I’m built for both the cold and the heat. Hong Kong winters aren’t that bad. I miss my ushanka, though.
- Having a home both in New York and in Hong Kong. I must have done major good karma—I seem to get everything I want in life (stuff I need, not stuff I want).