When was the last time you truly looked at or spent time with your parents? Like not just seeing them through a video call, not just liking their messages, not just replying with a quick “I'm busy now, I'll call you later.” I mean sitting across from them, eating a meal together, listening to their stories.
Imagine your parents are 60 years old today, and they're blessed enough to live peacefully until 80. At first, 20 years sounds like a long time. You might think, “I still have plenty of time to visit them, talk to them, and create more memories together.” Most of us think we still have plenty of time…
“Next month I'll go home.”
“When I earn more money, I'll spend more time with them.”
“When I'm less busy, I'll bring them on a holiday.”
But have we ever stopped and calculated how much time we actually have left? Everyone's situation is different. Some people are lucky enough to live near their parents and see them every week. But for those of us who move away for work and study, distance quietly takes away more time than we realise. For me, I work in Singapore, and my mum is still in my hometown, Perak. Because of work, responsibilities, and the distance between us, I can only go home once every 2 to 3 months.
Let's assume I manage to go home once every 3 months, which means: 4 times a year x 20 years = 80 visits. 80 visits sounds like a lot, but what if every visit is around 4 days? 80 visits x 4 days = 320 days. 20 years of having my mum in my life have become only 320 days of actually being together. It is even less than a year, and those 320 days are not continuous. They are scattered across 20 years, maybe a few days during Chinese New Year, a few days during the holiday, and a few ordinary days sitting at home, eating together.
Twenty years of “I’ll come home soon” become only a few months of real time together. That number is painful because it reminds us that time is not measured by how long we live. It is measured by the moments we actually share.
I grew up in a family where it was mostly just my mother and me. My parents divorced when I was still in primary school. Even before the divorce, my father often worked in another city for long periods of time, so seeing him once or twice a year was already considered normal. Basically, my childhood memories are mostly with my mum, especially since I was an only child. She was the person who cooked for me and took care of me when I was sick, listened to my problems, and watched me slowly grow up, but time moves faster than I expected. The little kid who used to depend on her is now an adult building a career in another place, and it means having less time to return home.
When you are young, you always think that your parents will stay the same. You remember them as the strong person who could carry everything, the person who never seemed to get older. Until one day, you go home for a simple dinner and suddenly notice things you never paid attention to before. More grey hair, more wrinkles. That moment feels strange because your mind still remembers them as the person from years ago, but reality reminds you that time has passed and has been passing for them too.
I don't know how many more dinners and birthdays I still have with my mother. I also don't know how many more times I can sit beside her and listen to her talk about ordinary things, and that uncertainty is what makes every ordinary moment precious. Call your family while there is still someone on the other end of the line. Go home when you still have the chance because one day, the thing you miss most will not be the things you bought for them, it will be the ordinary moments you thought you had forever.
Felicia Yoan (feliciayoan11@gmail.com) is a content creator under the Newswav Creator programme, where you get to express yourself, be a citizen journalist, and at the same time monetize your content & reach millions of users on Newswav. Log in to creator.newswav.com and become a Newswav Creator now!
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