Manu
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“The memories I stored, I could not let festered. Could not let trauma infiltrate and spread, to spoil and render them useless. They were moments to be tended. The culture we shared I was active, effervescent in my gut and in my genes, and I had to seize it, foster it so it did not die in me. So that I could pass it on someday. The lessons she imparted, the proof of her life lived on in me, and in every move and deed. I was what she left behind. If I could not be with my mother, I would be her.”
― Crying in H Mart
― Crying in H Mart
“Food was how my mother expressed her love. No matter how critical or cruel she could seem—constantly pushing me to meet her intractable expectations—I could always feel her affection radiating from the lunches she packed and the meals she prepared for me just the way I liked them.”
― Crying in H Mart
― Crying in H Mart
“Save your tears for when your mother dies.”
― Crying in H Mart
― Crying in H Mart
“Life is unfair, and sometimes it helps to irrationally blame someone for it.”
― Crying in H Mart
― Crying in H Mart
“Now that she was gone, I began to study her like a stranger, rooting around her belongings in an attempt to rediscover her, trying to bring her back to life in any way that I could. In my grief I was desperate to construe the slightest thing as a sign.”
― Crying in H Mart
― Crying in H Mart
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