Always Present, Always Away.

Home - Toa Payoh, Singapore

A year has passed. I am home again.

Bird songs echo at the crack of dawn. Soft sun fades this building of its curated shades. Wafts of instant 3-in-1 coffee remind me that I am loved. Hot and confronting, I can only take small sips.

On the surface it seems nothing has changed. Ma-Ma still paints her nails in a pearlescent pink. She is dressed in a floral dress she made herself, gracefully walking across the living room as though she is floating. A Taiwanese talk show plays faintly in the background.

Mom comes back from the local food centre at 11:30 AM. Ta-bao’d are plastic packets of soup noodles. Yong Tau Foo, Mee Pok, Mee Fen. Always noodles. I watch her transfer our lunch into bowls, her glasses fogging as she untwists colourful seals that cause fragrant steam to fill the air. For a moment I relish in gratitude for these regularities. I remember how much I missed this sense of unconditional safety.

This Home is one where I am always arriving, departing, never staying.

Nowadays, no amount of time ever feels like enough.