With your nonchalant goodbyes and uppity demeanor in the first 24-hours, I assumed you would carry on through the length of our father-son adventure to Hong Kong. Your mom’s passport didn’t make it back in time from her settlement visa application and as a result, she stayed in London.
But after a whirlwind 30 hours, when we finally settled down into a nice but foreign bed, it hit you. You turned to me with a tear sitting on the corner of your eye and calmly said, “Wo yao hui jia” (I want to go home). There was no crying or screaming; just pure sadness. And in that moment, my heart broke in two and I felt so sad seeing you in such a state. I tried to put myself in your shoes, imagining what it must be like traveling so far, sleeping in a strange bed with only half your family there, and that made me start tearing up and missing your mom as well.
We both lay there weeping, eventually falling asleep. But you must’ve been dreaming about your mother because you woke up some few hours later in tears about wanting to go home again.
It has been so long since I teared up or felt this sad – the last time time was probably a year before you were born and it was from watching a movie. And because of how rare an occurrence that is for me, I can’t seem to shake the memory or feeling of how sad you and I were in that hotel in Hong Kong.
Everyone said we would get to bond over that trip in Hong Kong, and I suppose they were all right. I just didn’t expect the bonding to be over something like this.