The Third Chinese New Year Without Mum: A Festival of Love and Loss

The Third Chinese New Year Without Mum:

A Festival of Love and Loss

Mum, Chinese New Year will always be incomplete without you

because you were not just part of the celebration

but you were the celebration

My Amazing Mum

Ma, as the world welcomes the Chinese New Year with joy, feasts, and reunions, I feel the familiar ache returning, sharper and heavier as the days approach, this is the third Chinese New Year without you, and it still hurts as much as the very first one, perhaps even more, it hurts to celebrate the biggest, most important festival without you, who made it so inedible, it hurts to watch the fireworks, and see the red lanterns without you by our side, because it is a time for family, for togetherness, for traditions, but in your poignant absence, the heart of our New Year is gone, no matter how hard we try, everything feels different, now, I have come to accept that it will always hurt

Ma, you poured your heart and soul into Chinese New Year every single year, as for you, it was not just a celebration, but it was your masterpiece, a season of love, it was not just the traditions, but the graft and dedication, you put into every detail of creating the perfect New Year, you made it look effortless, with your contagious energy, your infectious laughter, and your natural warmth, as you were the glue that held everything together, but without you, it is not the same, it will never be the same again, because there is a piece of the celebration that is missing, a piece only you could provide, because you brought magic to the festivity, a magic that now feels so damn distant

Ma, Chinese New Year was not just a day, or even a week for you, but it was a month long journey of anticipating the celebration, from the first moment the lunar calendar marked the beginning of preparations, you would spring into action, I can still picture your enthusiasm, when you were meticulously scrubbing and cleaning, every nook and cranny of the house, believing, as tradition dictates, that sweeping away the old year’s misfortunes, made space for the new and good luck, and the food, oh, the food! Your kitchen became a symphony of scents, sounds and colours, our home was always alive with the aroma of your cooking, as each dish reflected health and felicity

Ma, the first Chinese New Year without you was unbearable, as the weight of your sudden absence was suffocating, I remember staring at the bare house, the empty kitchen, where once brought so much delight now carry an undercurrent of sorrow, despite my acute pain, I stubbornly refused to buy dumplings from the supermarket that year, because you always made them fresh, folding each one with precision and the grace of years of practice, it was your way of ensuring we started the year with something comforting and symbolic of family unity, hence, I could not bring myself to break that heritage, even though I had never made dumplings before that fateful moment

Ma, dumplings were such a central part of our celebration, how could I do anything less for your memory? So, with a mix of determination and bullheadedness, I spent seven difficult, exhausting hours in the kitchen that day, making dumplings from scratch, I know it was not as exquisite as yours, but those dumplings were mine, that were made with the heart, and it was the right thing to offer you and Dad the homemade ones you always had, those long hours taught me something so important, that even in grief, love can find a way, the whole process was not just about food, it was about connecting with you, honouring your memory in a tangible, deeply meaningful way

Ma, even now, the third time we are going through Chinese New Year without you, the pain has not lessened, if anything, it has deepened, every red lantern, every New Year’s wish, a cruel reminder of your aching absence, so, we do it all again this year, and every year after that, we clean the house, light incense and candles, put on your best-loved Spring Festival Gala, make the dumplings, even if it takes all day, offer you and Dad the first plate, and we talk to you in our hearts, as if you are still sitting at the table with us, and this is our way of bringing a piece of you into the occasion, because you deserve to be remembered in every detail of this festival you loved so much

Ma, no matter how much it hurts, I have made it my mission to continue your traditions, for you, for Dad, for myself, and for the family you built with so much love, no matter how hard it feels, we still try to honour you in our own small ways during the New Year, though these gestures feel like a drop in the ocean compared to what you gave us, even we only echo a shadow of what it used to be, the truth is, there is no replacing you, no way to recreate the magic you brought to the holiday, the lanterns still glow, the firecrackers still roar, the world still celebrates, without you, the New Year is fragmented, no matter how many years pass, you are the heart of this festival, always