Published May. 16, 2021
Finding her mother's silver tin of gifts received from her late father
and carefully touching each memento.
- Coming second in the school-wide egg and spoon race.
Singing in a two-minute spot on the only broadcast channel in the
Finishing graduate school in spite of all the protests that she ought
to focus on getting married.
- Taking home her newborn son after a protracted hospitalization.
Crawling around the apartment playing with her kids to turn "run from
the cockroaches" into a fun game.
Leaving her son looking back wistfully for his first day of school.
And sitting outside the school for hours afterwards just in case
something went wrong.
Reading her daughter's first Father's Day card, remembering the brown
paper craft tie glued on and the misspelt message of "I lov mi dad!"
Spending hours beside her dying mother getting recipes written nowhere
and passed to no others.
Preparing new dishes for her adult children, grateful to COVID for
providing a rare opportunity to be under the same roof.
These are my mother's most valued collection of treasures. A collection
of simple memories punctuating the circle of life of a bygone era, of a
full human life.
This inheritance, this remembrance, I realized today that these same
memories will one day be my most valued collection of treasures.