Ma

妈，很想吃你的炒果条，白的。

I am imagining sitting on the sofa in the living room, with the TV switched on in the background.  My right leg folded while my other leg bent, bringing my knee close to my chest, thus providing some sort of comfortable support for the left arm, which is holding the bowl.  I dig into the large chinese bowl of your kway teow with a pair of chopsticks.  Big mouthfuls by big mouthfuls.  The grease smearing my lips as I chomp away.  Mmmm...

I miss the surroundings, the humidity, the heat, the constant buzz (made by the children, your FM958, you on your antique sewing machine).

Your voice.  Your smiles.  Your love.

Ma, I miss you.