It is remarkable how quickly one grows up. One moment, we are holding our mother's hand, feeling apprehension about entering kindergarten, and the next, we are walking across the stage to receive our diplomas. Childhood memories do play a significant role in shaping who we become as adults.
I can vividly recall coming home from school at the age of six. The aroma of my mother's cooking filled the room and warmed my heart. "Please have a seat, dear," my mother would say graciously from the kitchen. I would wait patiently as she prepared a fresh dish of rice and my favourite meal, adobo, a Filipino staple. As I took a bite, I felt the spices dance on my tongue like two lovers performing a tango. I felt the warm broth embrace my heart and wrap around my soul. As I swallowed, nothing but pure joy filled my heart; it was truly a special moment.
Now, as I walk past the rice cooker, I am reminded of those memories of my mother and me enjoying a meal together. Each time she prepares that same dish, a glimpse of those memories appears in my mind. It is bittersweet because things have changed so much. The feeling is still there, and the moment remains ever so special, even if I am eating alone and my mother is not there to feed me.
Sometimes, I find myself yearning to revisit those times when the simple pleasures of life, such as good food, childhood favourite TV shows, laughter with my older sibling without the use of technology, hot chocolate and watching the news with my family, picking up my father from work, feeling his embrace, receiving new clothes, and playing dress-up without caring what others thought, were the reasons for my happiness. Oh, those were the good old days.