Hangout With Mom

Being in the old and cozy apartment brings back the good old days. After accepting the new job and in the period of transitioning, my mother moved back to the apartment where mom, sister and I used to live in when we first arrived in the States, which was in 1992. Sixteen years have gone by and coming back to this place is like coming home.

Mom is living by herself and she has done a great job of clean up the place. She seems to like place. Below the apartment is my aunt’s Chinese restaurant and next to that is my cousin’s grocery store. Mom can just come down and interact with the customers. When I lived here, I would come down and help my cousin bagged. With all the activities mom can do, I still feel guilty for not being there to take care of her, although my sister is only fifteen minutes away.

Every time I think of my mom, I ask the man above to bless her with prosperous health. Either the man above has done his job or she is taking good care of herself, my mother is in a very good condition. Calling her everyday just to hear that she’s doing fine makes me happy.