the moment on the train when the person sitting in front of umma and abba pulled down the window screen and fell asleep and umma pulled it back up to look at the view and then the person woke up and pulled it back down again and umma told them to stop it.
“ok parents, how about this? when we are walking together, abba, you have to walk one step slower, and umma, you have to walk one step faster. that is the only way we can move together.” // foods of umma and abba’s childhood + fresh tempura + banana milk + more banana milk + umma loves banana milk
peering over the edge of our hotel room balcony, umma pointed out a mother and a daughter lounging by the swimming pool seven floors below us. “the daughter must have brought her mother here on vacation,” umma said. “they came without the father.” “the father passed away,” abba concluded. “that’s why the daughter brought her mom here. to console her.” “or maybe,” i said, “the father likes to sleep in and is still in the hotel room while the mother and daughter are out for a morning swim.”
the two people in my life who i respect like no other. my heart spills with an overflow of thanks day in day out when i think of them. thank you umma abba thank you thank you thank you.