I wrote this piece in the beginning of July, at the end of my family’s two-week vacation to China. I never edited it and was reluctant to post it until now, when I realized I actually kind of liked it. Enjoy.

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Cathway Pacific Flight 803 left Hong Kong over five hours ago, and there are still seven hours to pass until the plane lands in San Francisco. In row 33, seat A, I already feel wistful.

In just four days, I leave on another plane, bound for my other home in Los Angeles, to resume my finance internship. On one hand, I feel enthused and challenged by the work I have in front of me, but on the other hand, I simply feel sad. Sad to be leaving my family so soon after I reunited with them. Sad that each time I come home now, it seems that my family has changed. 

My brother Ryan has grown taller, lost his braces and acts a great deal more mature. In China, he spent time looking out for my grandma and offered to take the roll-away bed at every hotel at which my siblings and I shared a room. Daniel, too, has become wiser: he is rational to a fault, and has become adept at controlling his temper and using logic to arrive at suitable compromises. He has also become quite kind to me, helping me carry my bags, letting me shower first, accompanying me to different areas of the various Chinese cities. 

In the end, though, it is seeing my parents grow older that makes me saddest to leave home. I came home from Los Angeles a few weeks ago to see my mom limping to greet me. When I asked her what had happened, she told me that she was running up the stairs, trying to race my dad to the second floor as he took the elevator, when she tripped and pulled her hamstring and damaged her knee. She had gotten several injections to reduce the pain, but it was clear then, as it was throughout the trip, that her knee was severely injured. At the time, she smiled and I chuckled at her story, but the incident worries me still. I know my mom is growing more fragile, and while her mental quickness is unsurpassed –she does Sudoku and crosswords faster than I can turn the pages of the newspaper — her body is becoming more and more vulnerable. In the end though, her story embodies what is so special about my mom; her sense of joy and the delight she takes in doing the dishes with my dad or going to Costco is so endearing and lovable. 

My dad’s aging hasn’t been so noticeable. He detailed our China vacation impeccably, calmly defused stressful situations with logic and grace, and took the lead when the family was lost or idling on plans. All at the same time, my dad carefully balanced every family member’s personalities and needs, making sure to help my grandma up the stairs, feed my mom, find my cousins the best shopping, buy Ryan ice cream, observe the sights with Daniel, and to check in with my mom’s parents to make sure they weren’t overly tired. Especially during this trip, I have realized that my dad is the steadying force of my family. 

As I grow up, I am beginning to realize how much I admire him and my mom for how they raised my brothers and me. My mom in particular taught me the importance of education. She would spend hours in the kitchen with me, tediously explaining decimals or drilling me in spelling. My mom would never allow me to submit subpar work to my teacher; if I was messy, she would have me erase the problems I had done or the essay I had written and complete it just a little bit neater. While I resented it then, over time I learned to never settle for mediocrity, that if a task was worth completing, it was worth completing well. 

My mom also taught me the value of reading. Ever since I was younger, she would buy me stacks of books, encouraging me to explore different worlds and time periods. I worked my way through the American Girl and Babysitter’s Club series, the Nancy Drew books, piles of American historical fiction, books about the Holocaust, poetry by Shel Silverstein, Shakespeare and Walt Whitman. By the time I was in middle school, my vocabulary was well-developed and I had an insatiable appetite for words. 

While my mom has given me a solid command of language, I look to my dad for questions about my future and for stability. My dad has always been extremely generous, to the extent that I still do not have to worry about whether taking an unpaid internship will impact my ability to afford movie tickets or a nice dinner. His support has freed me to explore my interests and enjoy college without worrying about my next paycheck; intentionally or not, he has helped me realize that I want to start my own business to achieve this freedom on my own. I have a sincere appreciation for how hard my dad worked to become financially secure, able to support his growing family and provide us with the best quality of life. 

As I have mentioned before, my dad is very responsive to and understanding of the needs of his loved ones. When I was younger, I had acne-prone skin and crooked teeth, and my dad supported me both financially and emotionally, allowing me to receive dermatologic treatments and medicines and paying for two rounds of braces. He genuinely sympathizes when I tell him of roadblocks in my life, and rationally helps me come to conclusions. Now, my dad seems to understand my desire to be more independent in college, and never pries into my life, instead treating me as an adult with decision-making abilities. He allows me to handle my finances, rarely asks about my grades, and trusts me to make my own choices. I respect him a great deal for how much freedom he entrusts to me, and in return, I want to do right by him and my mother.   

I am so lucky to have the parents I do. After spending so much time with them over the past few weeks, I have a renewed commitment to calling my parents weekly to update them on my activities. I realize how happy my mom is simply to hear my voice, and while my parents respect my autonomy at school, I must take the initiative to keep in contact. I love my family, plain and simple, and although I’m growing older, I do not want to grow apart from them. Family is too important, too long-lasting, to devalue through the necessity of growing up. This trip to China has helped remind me of my love for them, and though I may be boarding another plane soon, I will not soon forget my love.