Second Chinese New Year Without My Cheerful Mum

Second Chinese New Year Without My Mum

Chinese New Year, a time traditionally marked by

family gatherings and joyous celebrations

now weaves a lunar tapestry of memories and emotions

in the absence of my Mum

My Vibrant Mum

Ma, as the Lunar New Year dawns upon us once again, my motherless heart is carrying a profound weight, this year, for the second time, your indefinite absence is felt keenly in the silence that now pervades what used to be a bustling prelude to the most important festival in our Chinese culture, for you, my dearest Ma, the heart and soul of our family, this was a time to celebrate continuity, to honour the past, and to welcome the future with open arms, but presently, all that remains is the echo of empty spaces and empty time, left in the wake of your unexpected and sudden departure

Ma, you, once the architect of joy and fervour during this auspicious New Year celebration, the orchestrator of lively preparations, however, on this second year without you, our home is cloaked in a different ambiance, a quietude that stretches beyond the physical absence of your energetic activities, the air is tinged with a subtle melancholy, a poignant reminder of that energy is now confined to bloody memories, and the familiar buzz is replaced by an unsettling stillness, leaving behind only those damn reverberations of the exuberant chaos, which once filled every corner of our house 

Ma, in the weeks leading up to this the most significant occasion on the Chinese calendar, you would immerse yourself in the elaborate rituals, which marked the beginning of a new lunar cycle, each one steeped in age-old traditions and importance, you infused our home with a tangible sense of anticipation, as your dedication to preserving the customs of New Year was unparalleled, it was a time filled with family gatherings, laughter, and the warmth of familial bonds, now, gives way to a deep sense of vacantness, where time itself seems suspended in the quiet spaces you occupied

Ma, as we navigate this second Chinese New Year without you, there is a yearning for the settled routines and the comforting predictability of your vibrant presence, from rigorously cleaning every nook and cranny to adorning every room with red decorations symbolising the sweeping away of the past year's troubles, and welcoming in the new with fortune and prosperity, every part of our lives was radiated with your unwavering commitment to bring everyone together in a dance of shared rejoicing, right now, our humble abode feels eerily mute with a damn undeniable void left by you

Ma, on the eve of the New Year, our kitchen, once a zestful centre of culinary magic, a hub of the clatter of pots and pans, a bouncy haven of redolent spices and the aroma of festive delicacies, now stands as a hushed witness to the enormous gap left by your excruciating loss, you would spend hours preparing traditional dishes, and creating a banquet that was a feast for the senses and the soul, since each ingredient carefully chosen for its felicitous meaning, and each recipe passed down generations through our family, nonetheless, now tastes of a nostalgia tinged with our sorrows

Ma, on this second Lunar New Year without you, the rites once second nature, superseded by a hollowness of the absence of your soft hands expertly making intricate dumplings and savoury delights, that would grace our dining table, the red envelopes you used to lovingly hand out, the fragrance of incense and red lanterns, the animated atmosphere you crafted, the ceremonial moments you choreographed, and the feeling of togetherness you used to effortlessly cultivate, now devoid of the intimate cadence of your footsteps, the presence of your unique touch, and the flavour of your love

Ma, this year, for the second time without you, I cannot help but noticed that, grief does not adhere to the damn calendar, it is not bound by festive seasons or special occasions, but it likes the lunar cycle, has its own bloody rhythm, as the empty chairs and the little moments now unfold against the backdrop of solitude, one thing becomes damn clear, the whopping hole in the absence of your guiding presence, that could not be filled by the collective effort of family members or the ticking, however, we are finding a way to redefine those traditions and create new rituals that honour your spirit