As a little girl, the world to me was only as far south as Boston, far east as the Toronto Beaches, as far north as Pacific Mall and as far west as the Junction. Why? Well Boston is where my mum’s siblings reside – often visiting once a year, the beaches is where my sisters often took me every summer, what Asian did not know go to Pacific Mall and every Saturday was our weekly visits to Gong Gong and Po Po’s (Grandpa & Grandma) in the Junction.
As a little girl, my parents were ageless and smart. They knew almost everything about life and I swear, they were psychic. In the mornings, I use to wake up and sneak into the kitchen to eat chocolate chip cookies. My stairs are notorious for creaking, however, I found a clever way to walk on it which would stabilize the wooden boards beneath. I would step on the edges ever so lightly where the support is firmest. This I mastered as my mum couldn’t even hear it as she sewed away directly below. But the part that was always the hardest, was opening the pantry door. As soon as she heard that door open ever so slightly, “Ah Fongggg” will come traveling up the stairs. And all I can think to myself is, ‘Damn it, not again.’
Fong is my name in Chinese.
Although my parents were ageless and smart, my grandparents on the other hand were wise and immortal. They were old, but immortal. They would live forever in that giant house down the street from Annette. It would always be a pleasure coming home to see their shoes at the front door only to be welcomed by the best two people in the whole entire world.
Now Doctor, I know you save people and solve things. And I know you’re not real. But if you were, I’d make it my one wish to go back to when I was a little girl, when death was non-existence, when the word healthy was the definition of every person in the whole entire world (even if it was only from the Beaches to the Junction) and when I could always look forward to their shoes aligned neatly at the front of my home.