When I told my parents the news about my new job, my 83-year-old grandma happened to be visiting them. She said to me, “I’m still alive. Are you coming home for Chinese New Year next year?” I said yes, but I knew for sure I wouldn’t be able to because of the vacation policies at my new job.
My grandma lives alone, grows her own vegetables, and is still in good health. But nothing is promised for someone her age.
So I booked my flights the next day.
The trip home is always a marathon. Two days, three legs of flights with a total of 19 hours in the air, topped with a 2-hour train ride and a 2-hour bus ride. Transient spaces like airports and train stations leave one feeling detached and liminal, jet lag raises my resting heart rate by 15 beats per minute, and the lack of sleep hits me like a hammer.
But it’s all worth it, because at the end of that long journey, I finally get to see my grandma.