when i was home, mummy said, one of these days you should go with me to the temple, to go visit ah ma. she'll be very proud of you.
will she?
I think of her looking down at me, even now as I'm typing this. hovering above in moments of pride and in moments of shame. I've grown up and carved out a life for myself on the other side of the world, and feel lucky to have what I have and to be who I am but – how do I explain this loss that I will never get over? this perpetual grief that cannot be made legible? the aloneness?







