Chinese Version03-24-2025, Sunday, sunny
For three weeks, my nest is empty once again. My mood now is completely different from when my children were studying in Europe. At that time, I was filled with worry, now I am filled with peace.
I have time to savor home slowly. I think a warm home can really make life full of sunshine.
This February, my beloved second aunt, my father’s little sister, passed away. I realized my pain while paying my tribute to her while far away from her. She, the last parent-generation relative who cared, loved, and watched my brother and I grow up, is gone, and there is no more such relative who remembers our childhood stories. The end of her life is also the ending of some stories of life, which is painful…
Letting go of the pain, thinking that although my parents have passed away for many years, my brother and I can chat about our dear parents and relatives in heaven and talk about our hometown and the relatives and friends there, those chats warm my heart! I am grateful to my parents for showing us the warmth of home throughout their lives, so that my brother and I can always talk about trivial matters across the ocean and understand each other and encourage each other.
After my brother encouraged me to create a channel to publish my short videos, whenever his friends praised my short videos, my brother would forward the chat records to me in time. My original intention of making short videos was to help my brother and sister-in-law’s business, after some time, I started to entertain myself by telling stories in my heart, which I enjoyed a lot; the pleasure of bringing entertainment to others through my short videos is an unexpected enjoyment to me. This is the feeling of human love, floating and flowing warmly in the world by words, by messages, and by short videos.
Last night, while chatting with my daughter on the phone, I heard an interesting story about my little grandson, Ben. After his one and half year old little sister tore off the duck attached to the head of her plush toy, she was very upset but was not able to express it in words.
Ben saw his sister was upset and said to his mother: “Use tape (to stick the duck back)!” When I heard it, I laughed and replied: “He really is your son! He already knows the power of tape.” My daughter also knew early on that tape can repair walls, fix books, and things, which made me very proud, as when I was a child, I did not known about tape. Until one day, my daughter told me sadly that the tape failed to fix the fallen hem of her skirt.
Her words made I felt sad and regretful because when I was my daughter’s age, I liked knitting, crocheting, cross-stitching, embroidery and other handicrafts. I remember that my father bought a shed and special needles from Chengdu for me to do embroidery; but my daughter has never seen me do any needlework, because I was busy working and never had the time. This is a glimpse of the tiredness of the first generation immigrant working mothers. After that incident, I began to consciously let my daughter and son see or enjoy me needlework (my daughter learned mending when she was a graduate student, but my son never learned it). I felt at ease knowing that I had tried my best. The three circles in the photo are three embroidery sheds of different sizes.
My daughter also told me on the phone that people praised the trousers I made for Ben using the two long sleeves of an old sweatshirt. I was very happy that my daughter could chat with me about trivial family matters in an interesting way.
Before my mother had Alzheimer’s disease, she often talked about her needlework on the phone, such as altering a piece of clothing or mending an apron. Unfortunately, at that time I was too busy with work and housework and didn’t have the energy to praise my mother.
My daughter also asked me if I had a good dinner last night. This is because I told her the day before yesterday that her brother and sister-in-law would come to dinner on Saturday. I told my daughter that on Saturday morning, Shan (daughter-in-law) said she wanted to eat porridge, but didn’t say what kind of porridge; I cooked three kinds of porridge: millet and pumpkin porridge (millet itself needs to be cooked for two hours), rice and sweet potato porridge (add sweet potato and cook for another hour after the rice blooms in the pot), and rice, glutinous rice and green bean porridge (these three things are soaked in water for a few hours and then put into the pot with cold water to start stew). After hearing this, my daughter praised me. I told her that I made two versions of twice-cooked pork: one that her brother liked, and one with garlic sprouts and steamed bread slices, fried a plate of carrots, lettuce and pumpkin cubes and a plate of broccoli, and boiled a lotus root soup.
There are people to eat, people to listen, and many pots to clean, this is a great joy that only chefs can enjoy.
When I was cooking the sweet potato porridge on Saturday, I suddenly remembered my tiredness of working in the past. There was a period of time I wanted to eat sweet potato porridge and knew how to cook it, but I didn’t have the time or energy to make it. I often went to the deli next to the Chinese supermarket and paid three dollars to buy a cup of very watery sweet potato porridge. At that time, I said to myself: “When I have lots of free time, I will cook a big pot of sweet potato porridge and eat it slowly.” After I became free, my desire to eat sweet potato porridge faded, so I still haven’t cooked a big pot of sweet potato porridge for myself to eat slowly. Today, as I cooked sweet potato porridge for my daughter-in-law, I felt very happy after thinking of this past, because I finally had time to cook sweet potato porridge and eat it slowly.
It is very nourishing to savor the taste of home in my spare time, in my temporarily empty nest.