1 Chapter 1: Orgin

The first time my grandmother told me of our family's tradition took place over a phone call half way across the world, both of us by the windows in our own room where we both watched the blossoms of life. The phone call was happening on two different days. One was the night of a Saturday, while the other was the morning of a Sunday. It began shortly after our respected meal. The topic was Traditions. It was told from the experience of my grandmother.

There was no requirement to hear this story. You don't have to send in money, nor see the other person. You were however expected to pose your own questions. You were also required to perform some verbal tasks now and then, such as asking how the story teller is feeling or asking if she need to rest.

There was no format to the stories told, yet many points were made, including school, birthdays, love, family, aging, work, forgiveness, and, finally, life. The last topic was short, only a few sentences.

At the end of the stories we shared a moment of silence together.

Although the story-teller was tired, she expected me to produce one long essay on what was told. This essay was the final product.

The stories of the story-teller had a lot of people in it but only one kid had heard and connected all the story-teller's stories.

I am the kid.

It is the winter of 2010, a cold and freezing Monday morning. A group of people stood together in the corner of Taiwan's international airport. We stood here saying our goodbyes and I shed a few tears expecting never to come back again. When the farewells are over we stood there in silence. For me and my brother, the wheels of fate has just began to spin faster and faster.

As I stood there, I looked toward my grandmother, the one who've spent almost the past 10 years taking care of me ever so often. She is a small lady who walks as if she wasn't yet 80, in fact I was pretty sure she could even run if she wanted to. In her dress, she looks as if she hasn't aged a day past 20, carrying herself with the confidence that many couldn't even muster up at that age. When she smiles it's almost as if she was looking at the most precious thing in her whole life.

My grandmother told me to be careful out there. Embarrassed I looked toward the sky. Before we leave, I gave my grandmother and aunt a small gift that I had bought at the bookstore. It wasn't much considering that I was barely ten then. I hoped with this gift that my grandmother and aunt won't forget me so easily.

Then they hugged me. I feel them wrap their arms around me and told me again to be careful out there. They asked me to keep in touch, and without any pause I say, "Of course."

When I turned around I know I had tears streaming down my face.