Happy CNY (and Happy Valentine's Day)!

It's weird, but I think Chinese New Year holds more significance for me this year than ever before. I say it's weird because even though I've always associated with Chinese as my ethnicity, Chinese New Year never really meant a whole deal to me. I always had a vague understanding of the festivities that went on and the tradition of giving out red packets. And to me, it never seemed strange that my parents gave me red packets even though we don't carry out other Chinese traditions. But this CNY, I feel like there is so much to reflect on.

I came home this weekend--for the holiday, but mostly because it just seemed like a good time to come home. I went to Kam Man Supermarket yesterday with my mom, and my mom saw some ladies making these red bean pastries on the side. The pastries would take 20 minutes to make, so I told my mom, "Let's just go." She agreed, but I saw her look back at those pastries with a tinge of longing--an emotion I was so surprised to see on my mom's face. My mom (like most moms, I'm sure), is one of the most selfless people I know. She's a mom who saves everything for her kids and her husband, without a second thought to her wants (and sometimes even without a second thought for her needs). And because of this, I know my mom didn't want those pastries just to satisfy a craving. It probably signified much more--a longing for her home and family, a desire to share some of her past with me.

And then there was a second pastry incident. After turning down those special red bean ones, my mom goes to check the usual pastry section for some tarts. She finds the ones she wants, but says, "$1.10?? They used to be $0.90!" She looks at me and says, "It's not like we don't have the money, I just don't think it's worth it to pay that much." Wowwww, did I feel guilty. Here is my mom, saving a couple cents on pastries, when I'm living in New York where a salad might cost me $10.

And so today is Chinese New Year. Although it's not even 9 am, I've already gotten my red packets for this year. And along with them, I got a story from my dad--of how many years ago, when he got red packets, he got $1.10 from his parents. (Funny, isn't it? That the amount he got from his parents is the same price for one of those tarts today.) This might sound familiar to other kids out there--the "when I was a kid..." stories. I used to think these were stories to reprimand me for not appreciating how fortunate I was. But today, as I listened to my dad, there was a bit of laughter in his voice. Why should I be annoyed by these stories? They show how far my parents have come, and I should be proud of that above all else.

So here's to you, Mom and Dad, for giving me a great life. May we have a great year together with Sis, too, as a family.