This is my submission for Lens-Artists Photo Challenge #23: Celebrations. Please follow the link to read Amy’s post.
This morning, I stepped out to celebrate a beautiful winter day: high 20, no wind, frozen fog on trees…
Actually, when I saw the word “celebrations”, I immediately thought of food. I remember Mom used to cook many dishes celebrating Chinese holidays; I remember we could hardly fit them all on our big table.
I wasn’t interested in cooking when I was young; most of the time I didn’t offer her any help, and when I did, I was kicked out of the kitchen within minutes; Mom apparently didn’t appreciate my free quality control service (frequent tasting). Nowadays, once in a while, I would call my younger sister asking her if she knew how Mom made this or that dish. Sadly, she didn’t know either.
I wish I had some photos of those celebrations, but I don’t. To be honest, back then, I didn’t know I would miss those moments this much.
After getting married, occasionally, I, too, had invited friends over to celebrate holidays. When dinner was ready and I was finally able to sit down to enjoy the food and companies, most of the time, I was no longer in “celebration” mood. I was just happy that cooking was over 😉
We started going out for dinner on our birthdays, anniversaries… We call it a celebration. Sometime I wonder if we have used the word “celebration” as an excuse to avoid cooking. Maybe we have.
Now, the real celebration… I probably have told you the following story; it is one of the stories that I like to keep telling.
I worked for a clinic before I retired. One Monday morning, around 8 o’clock, many coworkers and I squeezed into an elevator (My office was on the 7th floor). Some looked like they were still in their dreams; some had “I don’t like to come to work today” written on their foreheads – clearly, they hated Mondays; some looked like dead trees. Among all well-dressed men and women, there stood a cafeteria lady wearing a simple white shirt, a pair of black pants and a brown apron. Before the elevator reaching to the 2nd floor, the lady started humming in a soft voice. The guy who stood next to her politely asked, “How are you doing?”
“I am doing great!” she said. She paused for a second, and added, “Can’t be better!”
No one made a slight movement, as if no one had heard a sound. What a liar, I thought.
“Really?” the same guy said in a lifeless voice.
“Really. Every day when I wake up, I celebrate for having another day to live. I got up, brushed my teeth, cook and ate breakfast… I did all by myself; I didn’t need any help from others. Isn’t that great or what? Then, I come to work; I buy myself a cup of coffee to celebrate for having a good job. Really, I feel great!”
Ever since that day, I, too, celebrate for every day I get, but I don’t know how to take a photograph of that.
Thanks to Amy for another wonderful theme.
Thank you for visiting my blog.