Family ties rediscovered

My cousins and I grew up in different cities. We only see each other once or twice a year. When my younger brother suddenly appeared in Beijing on Friday, a weird scene came to my mind: after a childish squabble, the two of us sitting back to back on a stone elephant in a park in Qingdao, reluctant to take pictures together. That was almost two decades ago. Yesterday’s shy boy has grown into a gentleman, a returnee from Australia.

My elder sister also visited Beijing two weeks ago. She used to strike me as a naïve girl in a fairy tale, with a peculiar interest in teddy bears. Today the little princess has got married, living happily ever after…

Before they came, I was wondering what we would talk about when we meet. Fill the gap left by the years? Not really. We’re all moving on.

Friends may drift apart, but for family members, there is always a tie there that binds us together, like a kite string. No matter how far we go, we are forever attached to the family.

I happen to be reading Amy Tan’s The bonesetter’s daughter recently and would like to quote a speech Ruth made at a family reunion dinner: “As the years go on, I see how much family means. It reminds us of what’s important. That connection to the past. The same jokes about being young yet getting old. The traditions. The fact that we can’t get rid of each other no matter how much we try. We’re stuck through the ages, with the bonds cemented by sticky rice and tapioca pudding.”

I’m more than happy to catch up with my cousins; it’s interesting to see them change and mature.