Cherish the ones you love, for one day they’ll live only in your memories.

「珍惜眼前人，因為有一天，他們只會存在於回憶裡。」

When I was little, my parents and I had a weekend ritual — we would hold hands and walk together to Shang Ji Cheng, a little restaurant that served the most delicious roast chicken in Tucheng, Tapei.

小時候，我們家有個週末儀式——爸爸媽媽會牽著我的手，一起走到在台北土城香雞城，那裡有我最愛的手扒雞。

Dad on one side, Mom on the other, and me in the middle, swinging their hands like a seesaw, giggling all the way. The moment we stepped inside, that golden, crispy aroma filled the air — to this day, I can still smell it in my memories.

爸爸在一邊，媽媽在另一邊，我走在中間，一邊搖晃著他們的手、一邊咯咯笑。那股金黃酥脆的香氣直到現在，仍深深烙印在我的記憶裡。

They would always leave the chicken leg and wing for me — my favorite parts — and smile as they watched me eat.

爸媽總會把我最愛的雞腿和雞翅留給我，看著我吃得津津有味，露出滿足的笑容。

After dinner, we would head to the cinema. I remember laughing so hard at Stephen Chow’s movies like Flirting Scholar and Tricky Brains. Dad would say, “My favorite sound in the world is your laughter.” And in those moments, I felt safe. I thought that happiness would last forever.

吃飽後，我們就去電影院。印象最深的是周星馳的《唐伯虎點秋香》和《整人大王》，我笑得又大又開心。爸爸總說：「我最喜歡聽妳的笑聲。」那時候，我以為幸福會一直這樣下去。

But life changed. The laughter faded, replaced by arguments, shouting, and silence. Dad began to hit Mom — and our family dinners became fewer and fewer. Sometimes, Mom still took me to the movies, but Dad was never there anymore.

然而生活變了。笑聲被爭吵、怒吼和沉默取代。爸爸開始對媽媽動手，我們三個人一起吃飯的畫面越來越少。媽媽偶爾還是會帶我去看電影，但爸爸已經不再出現。

When I grew older, the roles reversed — I was the one taking Dad to the movies. I still remember watching Con Air together, and later, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, a movie that inspired me to travel to Iceland alone.

長大後，角色互換了——變成我帶爸爸去看電影。我還記得我們一起看了《空中監獄》，還有後來那部讓我踏上冰島旅程的《白日夢冒險王》。

But by then, things were different. Mom and I often argued, Dad became quiet and heavy with worries about money. I was the one paying for the tickets — and sometimes, he didn’t even seem to want to be there.

但那時感覺已經不同了。媽媽和我常常爭吵，而爸爸變得沉默憂鬱，總是嘆氣說沒錢。最後，都是我買電影票，而他只是靜靜地坐著，好像也不太情願。

Even when my parents occasionally met again, the air felt heavy — like a storm waiting to break. I had already learned to live with their separation, but deep down, I still missed that simple, joyful little family we once were.

即使爸媽偶爾再見面，空氣都變得沉重，像隨時會爆發的暴風雨。我早已習慣他們分開的生活，但心底深處，仍然無比懷念那個單純快樂的三人世界。

Then one day, Mom — who always cared about her health — passed away suddenly. A few years ago, Dad also left during surgery. Losing them both broke me open in ways words can’t describe.

後來，有一天，那個最注重養生的媽媽卻突然離世。幾年後，爸爸也在手術中離開了。我失去了這世界上最愛我的人，那段時間的痛苦，無法用言語形容。

If I could go back, just once, I’d return to that warm, yellow-lit Shang Ji Cheng. I’d hold their hands and say, “Thank you. I really, really love you.”

Not wait until everything became a memory.

如果可以重來一次，我希望能回到那個燈光昏黃的香雞城，拉著爸媽的手，認真地對他們說：「謝謝你們，我真的很愛你們。」而不是等到一切都變成回憶時，才後悔那些沒說出口的話。

⸻

Thank you for listening to this story from my heart.

Maybe you, too, have moments you wish you could relive — to say the words that were never said.

So today, if you still can, call someone you love. Tell them how much they mean to you.

謝謝你聽完我的故事。

也許你心中，也有那些想重來一次的時刻。

今天，如果還有機會，請告訴你愛的人：「謝謝你，我真的很愛你。」