What do we fear the most? I know what I fear. I fear bidding permanent farewell to my loved-ones.

On Independence day July 4th 2014, my family and I wished our final farewell to 梁陳慕貞, the woman whom I affectionately call 婆婆. Every winter break my mother and I travel to Toronto. 婆婆 would always undoubtedly be perched on her throne of pillows in the TV-room, engrossed in the cantonese soap opera blasting from the speakers. I would then have to compete over the din, yelling “婆婆你好！”. For a woman to have made it through to the triple digits, my grandma still had a hearty appetite for life - especially when it came to 燒鵝 (roast goose). Before my aunt could de-skin, de-fat and dice them up into bite-sized pieces for her, 婆婆 would already have the bone remnants neatly lined up on a tissue by her bowl of rice.

Though I fear that that would be one of the final memories we shared together, nothing scares me more than the parasitic thought of regret. It gnaws on our mind like a cancerous tumour. But we need not continue to feed this regret. Let the current moment serenade you. Let the past remain the past. It may come knocking. And when it does, welcome it in, for you never know what this unexpected visit may bring.

“…the art is not one of forgetting but letting go. And when everything else is gone, you can be rich in loss.” -Rebecca Solnit