The few weeks surrounded January 8, 2012 was surreally remote and disconnected from my life. After the initial cancer diagnosis, nothing was a surprise, yet that did not alleviate the sense of loss nor help me come to terms with Shuang’s death. Two years later, I finally felt the need to clean up his closet. It is a cold hard fact, I’ll never again hear that vibrant footsteps late at night--six swift successive thumps on the wooden stairs, skipping every other step, tireless and cheerful, he appeared at the door. Home was where he yearned.

He was as reluctant to leave us as we were willing to live without him, but I am still unreasonably upset for the abandonment. My only comfort has been the sporadic and unexplained feeling of his existence, while looking at the beautiful starry night sky, when being pampered with pleasant surprises big and small. He is nowhere and he is everywhere.

Shuang will always be a crucial part of my life. He will continue to live in the hearts of those who love him.