Today is my mama’s birthday. She would be turning 58. We didn’t really know what we were meant to do. I mean, what are you meant to do?
We went to visit her. We lit a handful of joss sticks, prayed to her and gave her three joss sticks from our bunches of joss sticks. Then we did the same for her neighbours who are keeping her company, but they only get one joss stick. We only know to do this through tradition.
It’s a weird and sad day. I don’t want it to go by forgotten yet I don’t know how to do this day. I posted a video on Instagram of mum playing with our family cat. Her smile in it is radiant and she is so happy. It’s a memory I want to keep. It’s how I want her to be remembered. It’s hard to forget the shell she became and how the cancer turned her into a stranger. It’s hard to remember the person she was before she was diagnosed. It’s hard to remember the good memories. It’s hard to remind myself of who she was because a large part of me still cannot accept she is no longer here. It’s like a weird horrible dream that I can’t wake up from.