Mama,

I’m sitting here, on the balcony, sipping coffee — the same way you dreamt of spending the days after you turn 60. 

All you ever wanted was to sit on a balcony or patio, a cup of coffee in hand as you watch the world go by. You worked so hard all your life that you never had the chance to do these things — sip coffee unhurriedly or witness the world beyond our own chaos. “Puhon” was what you always told me.

I think about your dream every day, everytime I sit here, everytime I drink coffee. I think about how painfully simple your dream was and still not have it fulfilled.

Let me live your dream for you, for this has become my dream, too. To be still and at peace, not rushed by the responsibilities that have fallen on my shoulder when you left. 

Come and sit with me today. Let’s sit here, quietly and happily. It’s time to dream of bigger things.