Another beautiful sunny August morning, the kind that you want to last forever. I know it can’t. And so I linger in it and savour, taking in as much as I can in these moments. This time last year my mother was still alive, still breathing, still getting up. This time last year, I was going to the Asian Market to get the things she wanted to cook with. This time last year my greenhouse was full of bitter melon vines and fruit. What a difference a year makes.

This year there is no mother. She has departed 10 months now. Life feels strange without her and yet it goes on. We go on. This year there is no bitter melon in the greenhouse. They would not and did not thrive. Perhaps there has been enough bitterness this year. And I did grow them for her though I love them, too. Maybe next year I can try growing them again. There is a time for everything.