This week, was spent in the company of family, or two families becoming one, under an English sun, that just stayed long enough to wish us well, and watch as rose petal confetti rained down on the newly-weds, weaving their way under an umbrella arch of our arms.
Family is a dozen sets of chopsticks digging into homemade wontons, with three different types of fillings because everyone has their preference.
It is the sound of mahjong being played as a newgeneration takes over the table, filling a seat that was left empty as time ran its course.
Family is the past, present and future. It is the the glue that holds my story together.
And for the family, you are the center of the universe. You have come up with your own system of naming every single one of your aunties and uncle, and grandmas and grandpas.
There is Mimmi, Coco and Jiajia ayi (aunties) and one uncle.
There is “my grandma” and “my grandpa” for your real grandparents.
“Chinese grandma” and “Chinese grandpa” for my second aunt and her husband.
“Little grandma” and “little grandpa” for my third aunt and her husband.
“Doggy’s papa” and “doggy’s mama” for my uncle and his wife, because they have a labrador which they treat like a son.
It’s a lot to keep track of for a little girl, but you had no trouble with it, because in the end it’s the most natural thing of all, to belong to this big, sometimes crazy, always loving family of ours.