For most kids, your first heroes are your parents. For me, it was my mother. She seemed to know how to make me feel better every time I came home from school crying.
She used to make pandan sponge cake every other week. The smell of the cake would fill the house and it would get into my nostrils even before I stepped into the house.
It was so soft and eggy. I could almost taste it now.
She doesn’t make them anymore.
Actually, except for a few times a month and Chinese New Year, she hasn’t been cooking a lot lately.
I know why. She’s tired now. It’s been a long and tiring life taking care of the family, of me. She needs time for herself now.
My mother’s getting older. And so is my father.
Sometimes I wish I could turn back time. But all I can do is appreciate what I have now.