January 9, 2022. It’s cold out there, my dear James.

The trees, shrubs, yards, the roofs, and the world are still blanketed by snow. Used to be one of your favorite times of the year. On such days, we would get up early, really early, to beat the snow, heading for the mountains for skiing. You were such a natural born skier, my baby. We first started skiing in Seven Springs, PA. It was 2012, you were nine. I gave up and walked down the green on bare feet on day three. And you flew down the blue on day one. You started with a child’s skis, then took over mine the next year. And the year after, we had to buy you skis 1.8 meter in length.

Now your big skis, and the size 12 boots, are just sitting on the shelf in the garage, quietly. Sister has been asking to go skiing two years in a row. But I really can’t. I can’t even imagine getting on the ski slope myself. We had our last ski trip on the Snowshoes Mountains, Christmas 2019. The two of us went for the crazy double black terrains for one last time. You and sister were starting snowboarding for some different challenges. You and I had our last pictures together, just the two of us. Father and son. Brothers. Buddies. Friends. Blood. Blood.

I have my memories. Memories are all I have. But memories are playing tricks with me.

I had two random dreams last night. First I dreamed of that outdoor holiday craft market in Raleigh. Sun was warm and bright. Grass was still green under the feet. The white tents, woodworks, hay hats, and metal works mixed beautifully. I saw mom and sister walking around , browsing and playing with the things. But I couldn’t find you. So I thought maybe it happened just a few days ago when we stopped in Raleigh for a night. But then I knew for sure we didn’t go to a market in Raleigh on that trip. Then I thought maybe it was during Christmas 2020 when mom and sister and I drove back up from Miami. I knew that couldn’t be either because we didn’t stop by Raleigh on that trip. Then it occurred to me. It was on our random Christmas road trip in 2018, together. And it’s was in Chapel Hill, not Raleigh. And then I looked very hard in the dream. I finally found you, walking on your own amongst the merchandise stalls. I caught up to you, asked you, “do you want anything?” You turned to me, both hands resting on the camera in front of your chest, and shook your head, “nah”.

In the other dream, I went to a college to look for you. Couldn’t find you in the freshman class. Couldn’t find you in the sophomore class either. And then I found myself in a small and quiet corner of a gigantic and chaotic campus dining hall. I felt mom on the same campus. But I couldn’t see her. I was eating with my iPhone on the table, reading on the iPad. But I was listening to the walkman cassette player clipped to my belt with the plugged in headphone. No, I never owned a walkman player myself. But it seemed to be the most important thing to me in the dream. Because when left, I forgot both the iPhone and the iPad, but I made sure to check that the walkman player was still clipped to my belt, and the headphone plugged in. And I had totally forgotten that I was there to look for you. I had no feel of you on that campus. It seemed I was there to attend college myself instead.

I don’t know James. I really don’t know.

I miss you Xiaoyang. I love you baby. 

January 2, 2022. I had two dreams last night.

In the first one, it was on the outside of a house. I knew it’s our home. But it’s not any of our homes we ever had. It’s more like a mix of the house you loved and the house we now live in. The front is a small front yard by a busier street. The back is all woods and brush. I trimmed the cherry tree on the left side of the house. Then I went to the back yard, and saw the door ajar, an insect finding its way through the crack into the house. I tried to close the door to stop it from getting in but was too late. Then I turned around and talked to a man. I asked the man to make sure the door is always closed because there were too many bugs in the back yard. I saw sister, mom and grandparents in the dream, but not you. However, there was that man, the only person that I interacted with. He didn’t say anything to me, however. He just looked at me, and nodded.

I woke up, and looked at the phone. It was 4:30 AM. I sat up and started reading a novel. But the dream played through my head again and again regardless. The man looked like you, just maybe 10 years older, l face peppered with stubbles, more square, shoulders broader.  Why did I talk to him about bugs? It is because baby, you are the one in the family that attracts stinging bugs the most. Wherever we went, whatever we were doing, you always found a way to get bug bites. And so often, you would have bug bites on your face, even on your nose, or right under your eyes. It was so often the subjects of our jokes when we looked at the big bumps from bug bites under your eyelids. And yes, we would joke that we would be safe just sitting near you when there were bugs around, because they always would find you first.

Sometime later, I fell back asleep. Then I had a second dream. It was all inside a house. Don’t know if it was the same house. I saw mom, sister, and grandparents again. I even saw sister’s room because she was still sleeping and then getting ready to go out with us all. But nothing looks familiar from inside the house. But I know it must be our home. But you were not anywhere in the dream. Not in the house at least.

The dream went nowhere. And the dream just went away.

I miss you Xiaoyang. I love you baby.



◦ 

December 31, 2018. New Year’s Eve. That was the first crossover of the year you didn’t spend with us. At just past eight o’clock that evening, you came to me, and said, “Baba, can you give me a ride to my friend’s place? We plan to do the countdown together. “. Of course I can, my dear James. On the short drive over, we made a quick call to the grandparents so that you could still say happy new year to them. Mostly, it was that emotion welling up from inside: my little boy is growing up and getting more independent with his own circle in life, and his own world now.

2021, the first whole year without you. Did I really walk through three hundred sixty-five whole calendar days of a year without you? I came to the realization why I couldn’t bear looking at the photos any more since late August 2021. Because for every day of the past years I looked at, there were no more photos of you on any day past August 2020. It just becomes emptiness. It is just endless void however I crave.

2021 is to be forgotten. I still have my memories.

I miss you Xiaoyang. I love you baby. 

December 18, 2021. Charleston, South Carolina.

I keep pulling. And my world keeps running farther away.

The world is moving on. And I fooled myself into a universe that would stand still.

It is Christmas time again. The world is celebrating. And I want to run.

And I want to run away. As I have been running away from whatever that is new, whatever that didn’t exist before that fateful day.

And I have been running away. To memories. Because they have been running away from me.

And I have been running away from Christmas at home. Because we have not spent a Christmas at home for ten years.

And I am running away. To the old memories on a thread. From having to have new memories.

James, my baby. That lovely autumn afternoon. After kindergarten. The two of us walked home from the school bus stop. At the front lawn, you said, “Dad, I can run very fast. Let me show you. “

You sprang away on the lawn, to the cherry tree, turned back, and proudly looked at me. James, my baby, dad can never outrun you, but you carried dad’s heart with you to that cherry tree.

With you. Almost seventeen years. We ran to the new. Everyday.

Without you. I run from the new. Everyday.

Charleston. Christmas Eve 2018. We were here. The setting sun that washed over the four of us by the water. Your favorite steak that we shared. Christmas of four was so perfect. Christmas of four was so sweet. Christmas of four was our fate.

Christmas Eve 2018. You went running. My dear brother. You ran in the hotel gym. You got big patches of terrifying hives all over your face and neck from the gym towel. We went looking for antihistamine on a Christmas Eve.

What a Christmas to remember. My dearest baby.

Almost a year later, when we were planning to do a Christmas ski trip for 2019. You said, “We never spend Christmas Eve at home anymore. Like last year, we just did a random road trip.”

Charleston 2018 was a random happenstance. Our lives are just a random road trip. Our love for you is destiny, my Xiaoyang.

Charleston, days before Christmas 2021, is just a stop of another randomness. We are here.

I didn’t want to be here. I don’t want to here. I am scared to be here. But mom wants to come. So we are here.

And your phone. Your AirPods. And that rock that your found for me under the waterfall of an Alaskan glacier.

And you. Are you, my James?

There was a sheet of paper from your first grade, on which you were asked to write down what was most important to you. You wrote, “I was born in Richmond”. 

On the drive down earlier today, I found an excuse to stop in Richmond. Just to touch the ground, caress the soil, and breathe in the air of your birthplace. And baby, your first name and middle name mean exactly that, Richmond Virginia. 

James, you came to this world with the help of a very kind doctor named G. M. And James, my baby, you left it all behind in your beloved house on a street named G. M. More than just the initials. They are almost the same.

To me the nonbeliever of fate my whole life, fate smacks down with a vengeance more than fatal. But why doesn’t it just take it on me and leave you all alone.

Seventeen months now. It was seventeen days to the seventeenth birthday. And now, it is seventeen months already.

I thought crying should have stopped already.

Seventeen months.

We miss you Xiaoyang. We love you dearly baby.

December 12, 2021. How are you, my dear Xiaoyang?

It was summer sunset at the port of Victoria, British Columbia. We just got off the cruise ship. You were taking in the splendid beauty of the nature with your Canon D70. Mom and Cynthia wandered off to the stature. I was just happy looking at you hard at work. Then you said to me, “Dad, stand over there”. I said, “No, it won’t be good with the sunset so bright in the background”. You smiled, “No worries. I know how to do it.” Then I walked over to stone rail by the water, and looked at you working on the dials for manual settings, and pointed the lens somewhere, and then at me. I heard the shutter click. Then you walked over and flipped the screen to me. It was splendid. The orange and pink of the setting sun lit the the whole sky and ocean on fire in the horizon, and my face was as bright and clear as it ever gets, instead of a shadow in the gorgeous light show over the western shore. Another family got off the ship and came to us, you took a couple pictures for them. The same perfect pictures. Then we asked them to take a picture for the four of us, same setting of the camera, and careful instructions from you on the trick of pointing the lens here and there. They never got it just right. But I was happy, really happy at that exact moment. Because of my talented boy.

That moment, you were just thirteen year old. We had a birthday celebration at the cruise ship dinner just a bit earlier.

This morning. I woke up with that precious moment. I knew it was not a dream. I still couldn’t get myself to open the photo apps. But every single picture of that moment just came live in my head. In constant replay. That gorgeous sunset in August 2016.

Why is it so far away already.

I miss you James. I love you my dear baby. 

December 5, 2021. Days ago, in the early morning of December 1, 2021, Xiaoyang, you came into my dream again. For days, I tried to fool myself into forgetting it. But I just can’t. How can I, my little goat?

It was a bright late morning, maybe just before noon. You suddenly pushed open the front door of our new home. You just came home, wearing your backpack. I saw your from behind, running to sister first, by the kitchen table, handing her a gift the size of a shoebox, beautifully wrapped in pink polka dot paper and ribbon and bow. And then you went to mom, who was sitting in the couch facing the fireplace. Like magic, you produced a big white box for her. It’s so big, almost like a TV. You didn’t wrap it. Still, there was an elegant ribbon around the box and a beautiful bow on the top. I couldn’t read the whole package description of the thingy with mom and the couch in the way. But I did see a couple words. One says “Air”, and the other “Pressure”. I guess it’s for massage? Dear baby, I am never as good as you in guessing.

I saw your big sweet, smiley face when you and mom were both holding the big box. It was the face of that eight or nine year old boy, still more rounded, a little chubby, a little baby fat still there, the grin and the dimple on the right side still more obvious.

And then you were looking up from mom to me. I felt myself so distant, but so close at the same time, like right in front of your crystal, pure eyes. I didn’t see any gift for me. But you did that thing again. Like before, when you wanted to show me how heavy your school backpack was. You tilted to your left a little bit, dropped your right shoulder, and propped up your backpack just ever so lightly. And the mysterious face when you were ready to tell me something…….

I raised my hands to try to reach for you, to grab you. But instead, I woke up, yet again.

It must be about four o’clock. The world was all quiet and dark out there. The world was just resting and getting ready to move on in the morning. I wanted to find my way back into that dream. But I couldn’t. I spent days trying to forget that dream. But I couldn’t.

I miss you so much my James. I love you my baby. 

December 3, 2012. My dear Xiaoyang, we just buried Blue, your sister’s bird today. Your beautiful green bird, Sparky, is all quiet. Gone forever, are the singing of the two birds in the house. Mom cried. Mom has been taking care of them everyday, moving them around for the view, for the sunshine, for the fresh air, everyday.

James, what should we do with Sparky now? Even if we get him a new companion, it would be so many years younger than he is. If we don’t, he will be so lonely, won’t he?

James, Blue passing and Sparky staying on with us, is that what you planned, too?

My dear baby, now that Blue is flying to you. You won’t be lonely. It’s getting cold now. Please take care of her. Please take care of yourself.

I miss you Xiaoyang. I love you baby. 

It is a brick wall. I keep banging my head on it. I know it is a dark, unmovable, brick wall. But I keep doing it. Again and again, day after day. I am not such an idiot to expect anything to come of it. But I keep knocking my head against it. Again. Yet again. I am an idiot who loves the numbness that comes of it.

But, I’m an idiot. I’ve been eating the Sour Patch candies. We donated most of the Halloween candies. But only after I picked out the Sour Patch, the Skittles, and the Swedish Fish. Your three favorites, after you went for your last Halloween trick-or-treat, when you were thirteen, in 2016. I’ve forgotten about them. Then this past Halloween, right before we left the house to visit you, I asked sister to bring some of your favorite candies. I was holding the bag, and she took no time, no hesitation at all, to pick out these three.

Sister never talks about you openly. Never. Ever. Since. I was befuddled. I was worried. And sometimes I was silently angry at her in my heart.

But so many years after your last trick-or-treat together, after so many unimaginable things that have blown her life to an unimaginable wilderness, I knew at that instant, she never forgets.

At that moment, still holding the bag of candies, looking at sister putting the Sour Patch, Skittles, and Swedish Fish into the plate we were bringing to you, I fought to hold down my tears. In those milliseconds, I didn’t know if I should feel more saddened, or happier, or just relieved. Sister never forgets. She brought back that memory of your favorite candies, because I had forgotten about them myself. I couldn’t have picked out the right candies myself.

Then I remembered that Halloween night when you were thirteen, you were sorting through the mount of candies on the floor, in the living room. I asked your what your favorite was, you said “Sour Patch”. I said “what is that?” You tore one open and offered me a piece, and said, “try it” . I took it and put in my mouth. I still remember how that sour taste hit me.

So this morning, after the kittens, after the dog we are taking care of for others for a few days, I opened another bag of Sour Patch. Like an idiot. Imaging it is the same taste as five years ago. 

November 13, 2021.  

My body struggles to stay afloat on the river of life. It goes only in one direction. No matter what I want to do. It’s a certainty.

My mind fights to drift off, in each and every direction, but down with the river. It crawls. It pushes. It bounces. It freezes. It smacks into rocks. It dissipates into endless mist of blackness. For an answer. Or maybe not.

James. You were a genius. And then you were a fool, for a week, a day, or an hour?

I was an idiot. And I am a dumber idiot now. I try to fight the wind. I try to find light in total darkness. I try to turn the tide. I try to patch up the sand castle on the beach after every wave, religiously,  more frenetic than the last, until the ocean buries it all, just like you did when you were little. Knowing it is futile, but we do it nonetheless.

Xiaoyang, last night, I dreamt of the day before you left us. No, it’s not the real day before you left us. It’s a day I knew was not real even in the dream. Because, even in that dream, I just knew you were leaving us the next day. I would not hesitate for a second to give up anything and everything if I could have known it the day before in this life. 

In that dream, I woke up in the bed hugging you. You were still asleep. Maybe five or six year old. But somehow we were both naked. Very strange. Maybe it was from the “The Lazy Song” on your playlist, “I’ll strut in my birthday suit”. Sister was also sound asleep next to us, in her pajama. She was still a little baby, maybe two or three year old, still a pure chubby angel.

Later, sister and you and I drove out to the mountains. I don’t remember what for. We stopped at a roadside store to pick up some snacks and foods. Then it occurred to me mom wasn’t there. We needed to go back home to spend time with her.

I didn’t know if you knew it was to be your last day with us. Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. But I thought you more than likely did.  Mom and sister didn’t know, but I just knew it was. 

We returned home. I asked you to talk to mom a bit. I went upstairs so that you two could have time alone. But I tried to listen in as much as I could. The two of you were just chatting about normal everyday stuff, about school, about mom asking you about any girl friend and you demurring again,  in your usual calm and quiet voices. Like life would just go on as it was. No hint of any farewell or anything like that. Mom was just that usual loving mom. You were just that usual sweet boy.

The house wasn’t ours. Even the bathroom I was in must be from the 1990s in China. But we were there, like it had been our home all along, in such a house that I didn’t recognize.

Later, I went back down and found you in the little square front yard, getting some water from the tap at the left corner to splash on your face. I called out to you “James, are you ready?”

What the fuck did I just say: are you ready? For what? Such an idiot. But I remember I said that. I used English, and called you James instead of Xiaoyang when in English. 

And you looked up. There you were, glowing with the warm late afternoon sun rays from behind you. There stood my sixteen year old boy. I saw your full handsome face for the first time in my dreams. Tall, in your black athletic jogger, the white t-shirt with blue stripes, and a faded light blue jeans shirt unbuttoned, both arms and  hands loosely by your sides, water beads still dripping down your face and fingers, reflecting the beautiful sunlight. But I knew you didn’t like jeans shirts.

You were smiling at me. A genuine, boyish smile that can only come from the bottom of the heart, like the way you always do. You looked happy. You grinned, and answered, “yah”.

At that moment, looking at you, in that dream, I don’t remember what my reaction was. Did I smile back? Was I sad on my face?

At that moment, I knew I was wondering: did you know it was to be your last day with us? I thought it was more than likely you did.

But you spent the whole day with us, talking with us, going some places with us, doing things with us, and smiling at us. Whole day. With us. If you knew what was to come the next. Or when you knew what was to come.  In my dream. 

Is that right, my dear baby?

Almost sixteen  months now, James. Sixteen suffocating months after sixteen short years.

I miss you Xiaoyang. I love you baby. 

November 6, 2021. James, I walked in the store this morning, and saw the Brie again. I suddenly felt the impulse to buy it. I reached out, touched it, picked it up, and then put it back down. Really, what for, baby?

A couple weeks ago, sister went grocery shopping with me. Out of nowhere, she just said, “We haven’t had cheese at home for a long time. Should we get some?” It’d been too long. Fifteen months long, Xiaoyang.

I said to her, “ Sure. What do you want?” Sister went ahead, and picked up the American cheese slider. Did she get that for herself? I don’t know. Sister doesn’t really care about cheese much. And not American cheese in particular.

Xiaoyang. You are the cheese person in our family. And yes, American cheese is your favorite. After that, it’s Brie. Years ago, we had that in France. And then we found it here. I would get that for you on and off. We would taste different kinds of cheese, and I asked you what your favorite is. You said “American cheese”. I would ridicule your choice and ask you to try again, and you said “American cheese”. I shook my head and gave up. So over the years, American cheese it was. We always had a good stock of American cheese slider at home.

Maybe there could have been one exception. Xiaoyang, do you remember that one time we broke the law together? We got the untreated Italian cheese in Milan the night before we came back. We stuffed it in the checked luggage to smuggle it back home. But the airlines misplaced out bag and it arrived five days late. The cheese was ruined. And that was the one you liked too.

So it had always been American cheese slider. We gave it to you as snack to nibble when you were just a baby. As you grew up, even into a teen, you would just say, “I feel like having a cheese”. You would grab yourself an American cheese slider.

You like Italian pasta a lot. Maybe it’s really because of the cheese in it? We made pasta at home a lot, with cheese in the source already of course. But you would always melt a couple more American cheese sliders in your plate.

James, we have American cheese sliders at home again. Do you feel like some?

I miss you Xiaoyang. I love you baby. 

October 31, 2021. The morning of Halloween. I woke up thinking of waffle. No idea why. James, did you ask me for waffles in my dream? But I don’t remember any from last night.

Xiaoyang, you like my waffles. Probably because I didn’t make them often. And it’s more like something we made together. I prepared the waffle batter, and you would put it in the waffle maker to make a couple for yourself when you woke up. You would make them into the funny shapes you like, and hot and crispy.

I haven’t made waffles again since the last time I made them but you didn’t get to eat. Thought I would never do them again. But this morning I just woke up with them in my head. I had to look up the recipe. It’s been too long.

James, you will have waffles today. They won’t be hot or crispy. And I don’t know what you want them to look like. I’ll try my best. Ok baby?

I miss you Xiaoyang. I love you baby. 

October 30, 2021. Another month drawing to an end. Another month I’ve not tried to pull up your photos. Since the end of last summer. Since the week before the last Labor Day weekend.

All I have been seeing you is that tiny laminated keychain photo on the back of my phone. We took you to a studio for a portrait in 2009. And that sweet six year old, arms crossed in front of the chest, big, inquiring eyes sparkling under thick brows, had been on mom’s keychain for eleven years. Doors changed. Cars changed. Houses changed. Keyes changed. Never the picture. But in August 2020, I had to take your picture off mom’s keychain. I am so sorry for doing that, baby. However, Xiaoyang, this picture has been on the back of my phone ever since.

And for two months, this is the only picture of you I’ve looked at. I asked myself: what the fuck are you doing?

Late June 2020, after the end of school year, I asked sister if she could take on a summer project, which was to assemble a picture story book of all the places we had been to. Sister agreed to it. I was so looking forward to a beautiful book of memories when it was completed. Sister never got around to work on it. And it’s not to be worked on anymore.

Day after day, I was trying to do some sort of that memory keeping for a few months. I would look at every photos of the day for the years past, everyday. Until One morning I suddenly found that I can’t, the week before the last Labor Day weekend.

Memories hurt. And the good memories hurt most of all. And we have so many of them, don’t we, My Xiaoyang?

So I stopped. But, really? What the fuck am I doing, James?

Oh baby, I do see you, in my dreams.

A few nights ago, there was such a dream. Grandpa and grandma were sitting across, mom at one end to my left, sister at the other end to my right, at the dinner table. We were all beginning to raise our drinks to toast. And then we realized you were not at the table, your chair to my right was empty. We were then all calling for you. And I went to get you. I found you leaning at the corner of the entryway to the living room, looking at something on the TV, probably a sports event, football game or something. You were in a white and cream light zipper jacket with the zipper open. I never saw that jacket before. And you like pullovers, not zipper jackets. But that was the jacket you were wearing at that moment. And at that moment, you look like a grownup, a man. I saw you holding a can of beer in your right hand. But then when I stepped closer, it seemed to be sparkling water instead. I said to you, “Xiaoyang, dinner time”. You began to turn to me and the dream ended. Too soon.

James. It wasn’t a house I recognized. I don’t know what we were toasting for. And grandpa and grandma, they are still living in a lie. They are still looking forward to a day to have dinner with you and touch your face and hug you.

I miss you My Xiaoyang. I love you my baby. 

October 23, 2021. Dear James. How are you my baby.

I no longer turn on the radio in the car. Ever since. Just from my subconsciousness. Never asked myself why. Then this morning, this song came on the speakers when I was doing grocery shopping at the store. Oh my baby, we heard that song so many, many times, together, in the car when you were that happy twelve or thirteen-year old. I even asked you to help me with a few words of the lyrics because of my bad hearing. I once even asked you when the song was playing over the car radio, “Xiaoyang, imagine when you are 20 years old”. You didn’t answer, but I could see in your big bright eyes you were thinking, picturing the bright sunny roads far, far ahead.

At that moment at the grocery store, I had the answer to the question I never dare to ask myself. Because I am a coward. I couldn’t check out of the store faster.

 Because I am a coward. I fear the familiar songs we shared. I fear the new songs we cannot share. I’m so sorry, baby.

“Seven Years

Lukas Graham

Once I was seven years old, my mama told me

Go make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely

Once I was seven years old

It was a big big world, but we thought we were bigger

Pushing each other to the limits, we were learning quicker

By 11 smoking herb and drinking burning liquor

Never rich so we were out to make that steady figure

Once I was 11 years old, my daddy told me

Go get yourself a wife or you'll be lonely

Once I was 11 years old

I always had that dream like my daddy before me

So I started writing songs, I started writing stories

Something about the glory, just always seemed to bore me

'Cause only those I really love will ever really know me

Once I was 20 years old, my story got told

Before the morning sun, when life was lonely

Once I was 20 years old

I only see my goals, I don't believe in failure

'Cause I know the smallest voices, they can make it major

I got my boys with me atleast those in favor

And if we don't meet before I leave, I hope I'll see you later

Once I was 20 years old, my story got told

I was writing 'bout everything, I saw before me

Once I was 20 years old

Soon we'll be 30 years old, our songs have been sold

We've traveled around the world and we're still roaming

Soon we'll be 30 years old

I'm still learning about life

My woman brought children for me

So I can sing them all my songs

And I can tell them stories

Most of my boys are with me

Some are still out seeking glory

And some I had to leave behind

My brother I'm still sorry

Soon I'll be 60 years old, my daddy got 61

Remember life and then your life becomes a better one

I made the man so happy when I wrote a letter once

I hope my children come and visit, once or twice a month

Soon I'll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold

Or will I have a lot of children who can warm me

Soon I'll be 60 years old

Soon I'll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold

Or will I have a lot of children who can hold me

Soon I'll be 60 years old

Once I was seven years old, my mama told me

Go make yourself some friends or you'll be lonely

Once I was seven years old

Once I was seven years old”

Soon I will be 60 years old, my James.

I miss you Xiaoyang. I love you baby. 

October 18, 2021. It has been such a strange night.

I woke up twice, struggled to fall back into sleep, so I pulled up the Kindle App to read, twice. But in between, or before and after, I probably had a hundred different dreams. Don’t remember many of them. But there is one that cause me to thrash and kick my feet out, startling Felix awake. I felt him move away.

And there is the one that I do remember. The one that we talked to each other. For whatever reason that I really don’t know, I somehow need to have a fifteen-minute video of kites. You were away from home already. And I knew you were very busy. But I sent you a message. Don’t remember how. And you and I then had a video chat. You, my baby, with that big headset on, and the usual gentle and calm smile, told me that yes you were busy, but yes you will find time to make the kite video for me. And you were sitting at the same desk, in your study, in the bright day light coming in through the windows all around.

There was another dream in which your sister also needed to do a video for her school assignment. I told her to plan for it, and plan for time to get your help early if she needed it, because you are busy. But that’s the only fragment of that dream I can remember.

Last night at dinner, Milo wasn’t on the table initially, for the first time, in maybe three or four months. Mom said it felt strange without Milo eating with us. Sister said he was napping upstairs. Then we began calling out, “Milo, dinner”. Half a minute later, there he was, at the bottom of the stairs. He turned, strolled over, leaped gracefully onto the table, and took up his usual spot. Your spot, James, my baby. I don’t remember when, or why. Just one day months ago, Milo was there on the table, and we let him. Then he has always been there with us for every single meal we eat at the table. On your spot of the table. He would patiently wait for us to give him a few bites of our food. Not much, just a few bites. And he would be very happy. Sometimes something else gets his attention and he would jump off and away afterwards. Oftentimes he would sit through the whole meals with us. We would feed him, pat him, play with him and make fun of him on the table. Felix never does that. Felix has absolutely no interest in our food, nor joining us on the table. We all agree Felix is smarter, gentler, kinder, never bites or scratches anybody, and Milo is bigger, stronger, braver, and would pretend to use his teeth and claws to get away whenever he doesn’t feel like being held. And Milo is always the one getting into trouble, breaking things, getting his neck tangled in bag straps, or head stuck in the cat treat jars. Instead of their names, oftentimes we just call Felix the good cat, and Milo the bad cat. But Milo always goes where we go in the house. And Milo always joins us on the dinner table. James, my sweet baby, how strange things are, right?

July 8, 2020, the day after we brought Milo and Felix home, you and I sat on the floor playing with Milo. You asked me, “ Dad, do you like his pattern?” I nodded, “Yes, like a tiger”. Everybody regards Felix the pretty cat. Yes, he is pretty and gentle. But Milo is proud as a tiger, with his tail held high all the time like a snorkel when he walks; and brave as a soldier, fitting the name you give him. And he is the sweetest companion.

Xiaoyang, fifteen months now. Season’s changed again. It’s getting cold out there. Take care of yourself, ok?

I miss you James. I love you baby. 

October 16, 2021. Two days from fifteen months. My Xiaoyang.

Sitting in your chair, at your desk, by your computer, looking out the window, in the quiet of morning. Outside, fall is here, fallen leaves everywhere, birds chirping. Sky is clear, infinitely blue, ethereal. Why does it feel so familiar?

It was in a different house, James. Thirteen months ago, I moved your chair, your desk, and your computer from your study to your room, in the house you loved. The room that became yours, and mine on your behalf. Mom and sister couldn’t bear coming close to the room. Then I had to, right? I sat in front of your windows, mindlessly looking out at the same fall scene. But no. They were totally different. The birds were two beautiful cardinals on the cherry tree, and the occasional owl in the big patch of woods to the right of the courtyard, where your basketball hoop stands.

James, it’s a different house now. And different windows. James, do you like the sunflowers and cucumber flowers mom planted in the garden bed?

And James, your basketball hoop is still there. A few weeks ago, I drove back to THE house myself one evening, for the first time, just to look into your windows. From the outside, from so far away. James, we took down the blind from one of the windows. And they still looked the same. And it was still the same quiet courtyard.

But no. Nothing is the same without you, my baby.

James, sister and I went to a baseball game two weeks ago, Washington playing Boston. Driving into Washington for the first time after so long, everything just felt strange. Sister sitting to my right. The back row seats empty. No, it should have been you sitting to my right and sister in the back. And it should have been you explaining the baseball rules to us during the game. Oh James, remember that evening in New Orleans, on December 27, 2017? Mom had to do some work at the hotel, and the three of us just randomly walked to the stadium, bought three cheap tickets of the New Orleans and New York Brooklyn game for the night. We sat so high and far from the court that I felt most of the time we should have taken the binocular to find the ball. But it was such a fun night. And you had a good joke at me that the happiest thing for me was I saved a lot of money watching that game. Only a week ago, the four of us were walking outside the Staples Center in downtown Los Angels. The Lakers and Golden State Warriors game was on that night, and the cheapest ticket was almost five hundred dollars each. A cheapskate like me was of course sacred away. And my excuse then was promising you guys that we would watch a game in New Orleans or Houston. James, my buddy, you knew me well.

James, on the way to the baseball game, I saw numerous small white flags on the lawn near the Washington Monument. I asked sister what they were for. Sister told me they were for the COVID death. It was a sudden thunder strike from the bright sky. I had to tighten my grips on the wheel upon hearing that answer. No. There is not a flag for you, my dear baby. To those who created the virus, to those who made the policy shutting down schools, there is not a flag for you, my baby.

But baby, who am I to blame? If I had just acted as the loving and protective father that I thought myself to be. If I had just not tried to wait for the road trip in two more days.

James. Fifteen months ago, I was shocked to find out how much Japanese Isekai anime you watched in the last two months after the school was closed. I was mad at you for falling into that escapism trap. Because I know you are too smart for that.

But right now. Not looking at your pictures for two months. Staring into the eternal blue sky behind the veils of clouds outside the window, or a screen. Are these escape too? Hey buddy, I’m your dad. You cannot blame me for sharing something similar, right?

Xiaoyang, I miss you. I love you baby. 

It used to be that I would pull up the photo app to browse the photos of the day in the past before I write to you. It was a precious reverie, for twenty minutes, an hour, every day, for thirteen months. I would zealously download every single one of your photos of the day in the past back from the cloud, saving them.

Then it stopped. It is really not what it used to be, is it? The mirage dissipates. And however much I want to, daydreams are always to be shattered, to be woken from. And I found myself no longer able to look at your handsome face. I am so sorry, baby.

It’s been almost two months since. It’s been almost fifteen months since. I have turned into such a coward. Perhaps I have always been. I just never wanted to admit it. I am afraid of looking at you. I am afraid of talking to you. I am scared of saying I love you. James, please forgive me for not telling you how I love you for so long.

I didn’t think I was ready to write to you again. But I think I should let you know that you received an email last night. It was to tell you that a new game, Far Cry 6, is out now. The subject line of that email beat me to pulp. It says “Everything in life has led to this moment…”.

James, I am so sorry. How many times I said, even yelling, “Xiaoyang, stop playing games”. And how few times I said, “I love you”. I know you love us, from every recollection of every last minute. But do you know we love you? Do you know I love you? Why didn’t I just say it, to you!

I have been listening to one of your music playlists. All the time, James. There is one song, “Just The Way Your Are”. The lyrics says “When I see your face. There’s not a thing that I would change. ‘Cause you’re amazing. Just the way your are”.

James, I am so sorry. Why did fate give your sensitive and gentle soul such a dumb father.

Xiaoyang, I had another dream of you more than a week ago. I didn’t write it down. But it stays with me. Kind of strange. For my whole life, until a year ago, I had been a dreamless person. Remembering one days after just didn’t happen. But this one is still playing.

It was late evening. We were in a city. But the streetlights were all off. Only a few windows gave out some sporadic lights in the tall buildings on all those city blocks. Only a few stars flickering in the night sky. It was a full moon, gentle, cloudless. You and sister were running around, playing fireworks. There were other kids scattered around. But everybody was excited, jumping, yelling, dancing. I was following you both along, looking at your happy faces, feeling all happy myself, because that is the world to me. Later, I saw you got exhausted with all the running around and lied down with your head propped by both hands, on a street corner to rest, and watch the night sky. After a while, you sat up…… But I suddenly realized: it was me sitting up; it was me looking at the night sky.

Xiaoyang, I love you. I miss you. I love you.