I don’t come home very often, but when I do it’s always nice to dodge questions about my love life and my parking situation. My parents went all out with Christmas this year, which is great but strange since we didn’t really celebrate it too much when I was growing up. I think it was because they were so busy working and making sure my brother and I were healthy, fed, and clothed…very pragmatic, and in retrospect I am very thankful for that. Their new home here houses a lot of memories of our old life back in Hacienda Heights. There are very little traces of the mother country, strangely enough. You’d have to pretty much search high and low to find evidence of a past life in Thailand. I suppose when you’ve devoted the last 30+ years of your life to the US that happens.
Sometimes I love the atmosphere in the city. The city is where things are always new, people are always coming and going, and there is a sense of constant refreshment. I feel inspired in the chaos. Sometimes though, I love to reground myself in the history of how my parents built their lives together…and this house is full of the evidence of decades of hard work, struggle, and love. Suburbia isn’t for me but it definitely serves a function for other people.
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