Feast for my family

It wasn't exactly today, but I woke up early to shop and start preparations for a big feast for my ancestors.

Traditionally, Qing Ming Festival 清明節 or Tomb Sweeping Day falls some day in April or May, and it's a day for Taiwanese to pay respects to the deceased family and relatives. Food and offerings play a central part in the commemorations, and families usually cook elaborate meals and put it in front of the family altar for the spirits of loved ones who have left before us.

Mum wanted to commemorate this day by visiting the temple where dad is laid to rest, and like everytime when she visits, she tires herself out by waking up especially early to cook, not to mention the trips to the market the day(s) before to buy fresh produce and flowers and paper money to burn. So this time I made a 'pact' with her: I will host my own feast and celebration here in Canada so she doesnt have to make it so elaborate and exhaust herself there.

I cooked nine dishes, including soup, a dessert, and variety of vegetables and bought half a roasted duck to offer, together with packets of biscuits and bottles of fizzy drinks. Luckily my friend was with me to help out and lay the tables, so it was all done with relative ease and speed ( but still it till over 3 hours from start to finish...)

I had my neighbours over to eat the 'leftovers'. While people may have mocked or thought it strange that I would go through all that trouble to cook for 'invisible' guests, I didn't find it at all odd. I may have lived abroad almost all my life, but there is a deep part of me that is still rooted to my roots. Roots that are tied to my ancestors, my forefathers and foremothers, tied to my late dad, without whom I would not be here and live with such ease and in such comfort today. People may not understand why I choose to engage and trouble myself with rituals and superstition, but what's wrong with giving my ancestors and dad an opportunity to visit Canada? :)

I put my hands before my chest and spoke to them quietly in my heart... Thanked them for their hardships and sacrifices, remembered them for who they were and what they meant to me growing up. What little food and drink I could offer then is but a small token of my eternal gratitude and appreciation.