The summer we went to Hong Kong, we visited our grandpa who had lung cancer. On the ride home from berry picking back in the US, a pebble flew into the windshield at the exact same moment we got a text from Hong Kong saying our grandpa had passed. Since the timing was symbolic, my mom never replaced the crack.My parents were Chinese immigrants living in Quincy. My mom had always stressed how my grandpa doted on her. Like other immigrants, we cause worry for loved ones. Because we are busy getting through each day, we don’t realize the worry our loved ones feel when they await news of our well-being. That day, my mom planned to carpool with her friends, but their car broke down so we drove ours. Considering the timing and coincidences, my mom saw the crack as her dad’s soul residing close to her as a form of comfort. I believe when he died, his soul immediately came to one of the many highways of Massachusetts to see my mom once more.We even spent the last healthy moments of my grandpa’s life with him. Who would have known that two days after we went home, he would have left this world. Perhaps, it was a vacation to distract my parents’ potential divorce; or so he could see his dear daughter and granddaughters. Undoubtedly, it was fortunate to see him once more. It’s amazing how one blemish on our car held the countless memories I had, yet it’s worth nothing at all materialistically. From our family ties and the miraculous afterlife, it reminded us we belonged and are protected in both Hong Kong as well as the US.

– SC

Relationship:  Child of im/migrant Child of im/migrant