Category Archives: Contemplation

A question I’ve never been asked before

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“Yvonne, who does your Botox?”

I wrinkled my brow and was completely caught off guard by the question. “Excuse me?” I blurted out. Did I hear this right?

“Who does your Botox?” my friend asked again with a smile on her face.

“Oh, I don’t do Botox!” I said, surprised. Then, I got confused. Does it look like parts of my face don’t move “normally”?! “Why, does it look like I do Botox?”

“No, not at all,” my friend insisted, still smiling and now laughing. “Your skin just looks so good. I thought you did Botox. In fact, doesn’t everyone do Botox?”

I laughed at this and paused. “Actually, I don’t think I have any friends who do Botox,” I replied to her.

She smiled even bigger this time. “Yes, you do. You have me.”

That’s when I was even more shocked. She does Botox?! She doesn’t look like she does it. As I’ve gotten into my mid-30s and am now 40, I can spot Botox on people’s faces pretty quickly. Some people are more obvious than others. But you can usually tell when you look at people who have been doing it for a long time. Their faces just do not move as naturally as they should when they smile or laugh. The tops of the cheeks and the foreheads that never move are usually the dead giveaway. She pointed out the three parts of her forehead where she’s been getting it done over the last year by her doctor friend, who shares a vial of Botox across three friends and splits the cost. I suppose she is an example of someone who does Botox where it actually looks natural.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, (friend’s name) hosts a Botox party about every three months,” my friend said. “And you are always more than welcome to join!”

In general, I’d always been against cosmetic surgery for things like eyelids surgery (UGH), boob jobs (except in the case of breast cancer related breast reconstruction, which frankly I do not consider “cosmetic”), face lifts, and anything related. I just think we have what we have, and we should work with what we have. On the other hand, I’m all for people getting things removed they do not like that really bother them (e.g. moles, sun spots, freckles, permanent body hair removal. Contrary to what Chris thinks, those procedures are not “cosmetic surgery.” They are cosmetic removals). And as we age, in general we should embrace the gift of getting older by taking care of our bodies, which includes our skin and hair. I’m a huge advocate of sun protection/sunscreen. I believe in regular exercise and eating well. And I believe in trying to reduce stressors, which all lead to a healthier and hopefully happier life and health span. And I’ve been pro retinol, vitamin C, and other skin nourishing ingredients forever. But outside of that, I never really considered any cosmetic surgery like Botox, fillers, or the like.

But then when my friend mentioned Botox, it started making me think of actual numbers. And that’s when I asked ChatGPT to give me a breakdown of usage: It shared that about 5 percent of the U.S. population aged 25 and above uses cosmetic Botox. The breakdown is estimated to be: 20% Baby Boomers and older; 39% Generation X; 35% Millennials; 6% Generation Z and younger. So that’s about 12 million people in this country — not a small number.

As I’ve gotten older, while I still do not think any of those cosmetic procedures are right for me (and more so, I absolutely am not willing to pay any of those prices out of pocket!), I’ve relaxed my general stance on them. At the end of the day, people have to do what they are comfortable with, and if they have the time and money to spend on these procedures, and they make them feel good about themselves, then all power to them. Plus for women especially, the beauty and “youth” standards are so stupid, senseless, and unrealistic that I totally understand why some women would just default to Botox, fillers, etc., once they get to a certain age, assuming they have a certain level of means. Yes, even today, the ageism against women continues to be that worse versus for men. So much for the equaling of the damn sexes.

Conversations about death with a 4-year-old

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In the last couple months, Kaia has been asking questions that dance around death, but are not quite about death. It usually comes up in the context of bees or animals dying. She sees bugs get squashed all the time and knows that means they are dead. She sees her teachers stepping on lantern flies and their guts spraying everywhere. She has also noticed road kill a few times. In the last week or so, she’s asked about where my gonggong/popo/yeye/nainai (grandparents) are and why we cannot see them, or why she hasn’t met them. Then the anniversary of Ed’s passing came this past Wednesday, she started asking me more pressing questions about him, indicating that she’s really thinking through all this quite thoughtfully for her age.

“Why did he have to die?” she asked me.

“Well, Jiujiu got very, very sick, so sick that he just couldn’t live anymore,” I explained, in the lightest way possible. Then, I immediately dreaded that she might worry that if she catches a cold that she would then die. And… oh dear, that’s exactly where it went.

“Does that mean that if I get sick that I could die, too?” Kaia asked me with wide, worried eyes. Great. I am clearly terrible at this.

“No, baby, not at all!” I quickly tried to reassure her. “You see, we all get a little sick sometimes. Sometimes, we get a cold or a flu or a stuffy nose. But our bodies are strong, and we fight it off and we get better. Jiujiu’s situation was a lot, lot different than this. His body was sick for a very long time, and then his body couldn’t work anymore.”

She gave me her side-eyed head tilt again. Then, she buried her head and cried, “I don’t want to die!”

“Pookie, there’s no reason for you to worry about dying,” I held her close when I said this. “You are super strong and healthy, and you are going to grow up and hopefully have a long, healthy life. You have so much to do in this great life you have! Eventually, we will all die, but hopefully, that will be when we are very, very old, very far from now.”

Kaia paused. Then she looked up at me again with eyes of terror. “I don’t want mommy to die! I don’t want you to die, mama!” At this point, there were fat tears rolling down her face. It felt like I was getting worse as this was progressing.

“Oh, Pookster,” I said to her. “Mama is quite strong and healthy now. I tell you this every day, don’t I, that every day, Daddy and Mama take care of you, protect you, and love you. And so, hopefully, I will live for a very, very long time. So there’s no need to worry about mama dying now or anytime soon. I live to take care of you and protect you and love you, and you give me a reason to live and love. Do you understand? I love you.”

After a long pause, she seemed to be satisfied by this response. Phew. She snuggled closer to me and said she loved me. Then, she asked if we could build her little plane tomorrow. I said yes.

I always have to remind myself when having conversations with her that kids of her age take everything very literally. Her mind and body are growing by leaps and bounds. And the conversations will keep getting deeper and more complex. And I just need to stay ahead of it and be careful with every word I share with her. The last thing I want her to do is worry every day or night that Chris or I will die, or that she will die, or that she will be alone. She is definitely a feeling child, my feeling baby.

The changing neighborhoods of New York City

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Today we spent the day exploring Bushwick. Bushwick is a much different neighborhood than it was back in 2008 when I first moved here. Back then, I still remember visiting two apartments with my friend/soon-to-be roommate in the area, and I wasn’t particularly enthused about the neighborhood. There didn’t seem to be that many local businesses other than drugstores, bodegas, and laundromats nearby. There were a lot of people all over the sidewalks and streets with seemingly nowhere to go, just loitering about doing nothing. I didn’t really understand it, but I knew it wasn’t a place I wanted to live then. The rent was cheap (for that time), but the cheap rent wasn’t enough to get me to seriously consider living there. Plus, neither of the apartments we saw were that notable; we would have been massively settling if we chose to move forward with them.

Well, since then, that roommate ended up living in Bushwick for about nine years after we moved out of our Elmhurst apartment. The area’s gotten more expensive and well… gentrified. Around 2016, I heard that a friend’s girlfriend who was living in Bushwick had to move out of her apartment because her rent was going up… 100 percent. More diverse eateries are opening up there, whether it’s Taiwanese, Vietnamese, Mexican, or Honduran. And a number of fun breweries, cafes, and bars have opened up, as well. Bushwick is a fun place to hang out in and explore now. It’s “cool” to say that you live there today.

We originally wanted to come to Bushwick last weekend, when we were meant to see our two friends for lunch. My friend ended up not feeling well, so she had to bail on us. But when I originally suggested Bushwick, she was not happy about it and said she preferred to never go there. As a child, she lived on the border of Bushwick, and her family had gotten attacked a number of times. So the area is a trigger for her of past trauma. She said she still thought of it as a dangerous place.

I totally get that bad memories are associated with places where bad things have happened to you. But in places like Brooklyn where the “boundary lines” between neighborhoods are a bit blurry, I just thought this was a bit strange. Sometimes when you’re in these areas, it’s not clear whether you’re in Bushwick, Williamsburg or even Ridgewood, where my friend grew up. Plus, that was now over 40 years ago for her. In the 18 years since I first went to Bushwick, the area has changed dramatically. So I cannot even begin to fathom how different it is today versus 40-plus years ago.

This reminded me of my ride-share driver from Raleigh back in April. He told me there was no way that Sunnyside/Woodside would have any good bakeries that people would travel to because “the place was a dump,” and he insisted it always would be. But I insisted to him, as I did to my friend about Bushwick, that places can and do change over time. You never know what you’re missing by assuming the worst of places.

But it’s not like Sunnyside, Woodside, or Bushwick really need that ride-share driver or my friend to patronize their businesses. They seem quite trendy and popular enough on their own!

13 years.

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Dearest Ed,

Today marks 13 years since you died. It’s strange to think that it’s actually been that long. But every year when we reach this anniversary, I also think that it feels like just yesterday. They say that when you love someone deeply and were truly connected to them, a part of them continues to live on within you — in the way you speak, hear, listen, see. Maybe that’s why sometimes when I think of you now, my initial feeling is not always of sadness, but rather of a strange joy — a joy that can only be felt and known if you genuinely loved someone to the core. Although I could not always have the types of conversation I wished I could have with you given your struggles, I always knew that you loved me deeply. That’s why it’s painful to remember that you’re no longer here.

For the very first time at the age of 4.5, Kaia has been able to have a real conversation about you with me. I was telling her that today was the anniversary of your passing. She didn’t quite understand what that meant, but I told her that thirteen years ago today, you “passed from the earth” in Chinese. That’s the polite way of saying that someone “passed away” or died in Chinese. She’s been asking more about death lately — about our Nainai dying, about bugs and lantern flies dying. So she understood what I said what I conveyed this to her.

“He died today…. 13 years ago?” she asked me in a whisper today. “That means he’s not here anymore?”

I told her this was true. She responded, “I’ve never seen Jiujiu. I only get to see him in pictures. Is this why?”

My heart ached when she asked me this. I could feel my eyes welling up. These are important things for her to know and understand. I just wasn’t quite expecting this at this moment.

“Why did he die?” she asked me. “What happened?”

The full, unvarnished truth isn’t quite preschooler-friendly. One day, she will learn the full story, but not now… not for a while. For now, I told her that her Jiujiu was sick, and he didn’t get the help he needed, and so he passed.

“Where is he now?” she asked me. She had a deep look of concern in her eyes.

“He’s up there, watching over us every day,” I said while motioning towards the sky. I may not fully believe in God, but given you are a Christian, I might as well tell Kaia something that he believed. “He watches over us, protects us, and loves us. Do you know how much he loves you? Jiujiu would have loved to have met you!”

She nodded her head. “Does that mean he can fly… the way birds do?” Kaia asked me.

“Maybe,” I tentatively replied to her. “Just maybe.”

“But I don’t want to die! I don’t want to get sick and die!” she moaned.

Oh, dear. This was going down not-great territory. I told her that Jiujiu’s situation was a lot different. Not everyone just gets sick and dies. It’s a lot more complicated than that. I told her that she will (hopefully) live a very, very, very long life, and she won’t have to worry about dying for a long, long time. I told her that we’d protect her and take care of her as long as we could.

This seemed to calm her. She snuggled up against me and asked for more cuddles.

I wish a lot of things were true. I wish that you were still here, that you were healthy, of sound mind and body. I wish that you could have a relationship with your niece. I wish she could know you in the flesh and not just see you in photos. But now, the most I can ask for is that I hope you are at peace. I still think of you every day, many times multiple times a day. And while others may have forgotten or try to forget you, I will never forget you. I hope to honor your legacy in my life, and through raising Kaia as best as I can. I hope you approve of how I’ve done so far.

I love you. And I miss you every day. I hope you know that. We had soy sauce chicken to remember you today. I picked it up right before I picked Kaia up from summer camp. She asked me why I got soy sauce chicken, and I told her it’s because Jiujiu liked it. And today, we remember him. Do they make that up where you are? If not, feel free to sneak a bite from the fridge if you feel like coming down. I promise I won’t get mad.

With all my love,

Yvonne (& Kaia & Chris)

Kaia: Always full of questions now

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“MAMA! Did you know that hyenas can eat babies?” Kaia asked as she came running to me this morning while I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom. She had her Lion King book in hand. I believe that was one of the books she read with Chris before bed last night.

“Yes, that’s right, Pooks,” I said to her. “That’s why we never want to get too close to the hyenas!”

“But, but, the big lions will kill them! Mufasa will protect us and kill them!” she exclaimed triumphantly. I’m not sure how much Kaia is aware that her dad is absolutely obsessed with Mufasa and all the power he stands for, but I am sure she will learn in due time.

Kaia is over 4.5 years old now. When I was her age, I still remember occasionally crying myself to sleep, thinking about the terrifying day when my mom would die. While I loved both my parents, I was always closer to my mom. I went to so many funerals by the age of four — more funerals than weddings. So after each funeral, I would ask my mom about what happened. She told me that no one lives forever, that everyone has to die. And I asked her, does this mean you will die, too? And she said, yes, everyone including me. And that made me so, so sad, and I had no idea how soon that day would come. Because as she explained to me then, none of us really know when we will die. I kept wondering, how could I possibly live without my mommy?

Kaia has actually been asking about death lately. I tell her what a lucky life we live, how lucky she is, and how very, very lucky she is to have two sets of living grandparents. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a Suma, Topa, Popo, AND Gonggong! And then she says, where are your Sumi and Topi and Popo and Gonggong? And I explain to her that I actually never met my Yeye (Topa), Popo, or Gonggong. I only ever met my Nainai (Suma). The other three passed away before I was born. She asks what that means. I tell her that passing away means that you are no longer living like she and I are; they are no longer of this world, and we will never see them again in this life.

Then she asks, where is your Nainai? And I said, she passed away, too. She does her usual Kaia-esque side head tilt and looks up, thinking.

“She isn’t in this world anymore?” Kaia looks at me with her thinking face. “So we can’t see her now?”

“Yes,” I say lightly. “That is right.”

I’ve also tried to tell her about Ed. She knows who her Jiujiu is and can point him out in many photos. I tell her that he has also passed away, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still out there in a different world, watching over us.

“Do you know that Jiujiu loves you?” I asked her. “He might not be here on earth anymore, but he loves you and watches over us.”

She looks up at me, smiles, and vigorously nods her head.

I wonder if she feels a connection to this person, this Jiujiu, who she has never met before. He is a person I reference in photos and speech quite a bit, but one of very few people she has never, and will never, meet. Little does she know that she shares the same nose as her Jiujiu. He is within her.

A cancer diagnosis

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Chris, Kaia, and I were originally planning to meet two friends, a couple, this Saturday for lunch. But as the date was approaching, one of the friends seemed a bit non-committal when it came to picking a place. She was evading suggestions and not really saying she wanted or didn’t want anything. It was confusing because her tone wasn’t normally like this over text, so I could tell something was wrong that she didn’t want to share. Finally two days ago, she admitted to me that her head wasn’t in a great place because she just had a biopsy on a breast the other day that could mean she had breast cancer. So I suggested that we meet to catch up in person today, as maybe a 1:1 conversation would be easier for her to stomach than a group outing. And she agreed.

Yesterday, she got the biopsy results. They confirmed that she did, in fact, have a very early stage of ductal carcinoma, essentially stage zero breast cancer that had started developing in her milk ducts. Her doctor went over potential treatment options as a move-forward plan. She has another biopsy scheduled next week. She was very lucky that this was caught, as she had been avoiding mammograms for the last five years because her first mammogram was a miserable experience. Her doctor urged her to get the mammogram done, and then had the radiology department call her repeatedly to harass her into finally making an appointment. I told her she was very lucky to have such an involved, caring doctor. In my case, I am not sure I have any doctor who would be that insistent and make sure to follow up with me repeatedly… on anything. When it comes to breast cancer or any cancer for that matter, catching it this early is the best news you could possibly have.

My friend recently lost one of her best friends to an aggressive brain cancer. And previous to that, she lost her aunt to lung cancer (this is someone who had never smoked a day in her life). So cancer has unfortunately been top of mind for her in recent years. Now she has to go through treatments herself. She said this has forced her to think about death more, as unpleasant as it is…. and she sees all of this as a sign that she needs to go “full throttle” on all the things she wants to accomplish in life that will make her feel fulfilled before she dies… hopefully in another several decades.

I told her I think it’s really healthy for us to think more often about death. When you think about death, it forces you to come to terms with the fact that you will not live forever. And therefore, life is precious, and you need to focus on what’s truly important and meaningful to you. Stop obsessing over stupid shit. Stop spending time with people who deplete you and take from you but never give. Stop obsessing what “other people” will think. Stop putting off reading that book you’ve “been meaning “to read, or delaying that vacation you’ve been dreaming of taking. Quit your awful, toxic job and find something else where you’ll be treated better and like a real human. I realize all this is easier said than done, but all of this can be accomplished with little baby steps every single day. The baby steps become bigger steps, and then we start letting go of all the crap that doesn’t matter in life.

So, maybe this is life’s way of telling her that she’s meant to do great things, and she still has time. Plus, just get the freaking mammogram every year.

Canadian wildfires’ smoke come down to the Northeast of the US

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While this isn’t the first time we’ve experienced this, for the last two days, our skies have been grey, hazy, and smoky because of the numerous Canadian wildfires that are happening further north of us. The fact that it is causing air pollution here in New York City just shows how widespread and massive the wildfires are. Today, our building sent a mass email notification to let us know they would be shutting off the fans in all public hallways to prevent the wildfire smoke from further entering the building. Many people outside are wearing masks. Those who have respiratory issues have been asked to stay indoors. When I stepped outside today to go pick Kaia up from summer camp, I could immediately smell a burning smell.

All of this makes me sad. It’s a reality of living in a time of climate change. But it makes me even sadder that we have an administration that denies climate change is even a thing. And it’s even more terrifying that many people believe climate change is a hoax. How do you then look at the hazy skyline of New York City that is barely visible right now due to wildfires all the way up in Canada…?!

Three weeks ago, we were in Bridgetown, Barbados

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One of Chris’s favorite things to do in speech with me is to tell me that a week ago, we were doing this, or two weeks ago, we were doing that. Today, he said to Kaia and me during dinner, “Just a week ago, we were coming back from Tobago.” The Friday before that, we were in St. Lucia exploring Castries Market and buying lots of local exotic fruit (including three different types of mango!) and enjoying Pigeon Island. And the Friday before that, we had just started our summer trip in Barbados and were enjoying the fish fry scene in Bridgetown, with a super delicious and succulent grilled whole red snapper with lick-your-fingers-good Bajan seasoning. Every year I get older, time seems to move that much more quickly. All these new, fun, happy, learning, cultural, exciting moments seem to come and go just like that. And it further makes me realize how precious all our moments are together, whether that’s exploring a new place, having a meal or bite of something together, or just sitting in the same place at the same time enjoying the exact same thing. While Kaia is 4.5 years old and always wondering when the next thing is happening or, “why are we walking for so long?”, it almost feels sometimes like I am grasping at straws to make these happy moments last longer. It’s like those sentimental sayings and quotes I’ve oftentimes been served since pregnancy and first becoming a mother: sometimes, you just want this moment, this stage, to last forever. But, if it lasts forever, then you never get to enjoy the next great thing that will come!

Time is precious, life is precious, and our moments together are precious and finite. I think about all the experiences I’ve had in my life to date, whether it’s the places I’ve been privileged to go to and see, the foods I’ve eaten, the people I’ve built lasting relationships with, the marriage and life I’ve built with Chris, and having Kaia Pookie as my sweet baby, and I just feel so thankful and so lucky for this life. Life is good. And our memories are sweet.

Reflecting on kids clubs at hotels

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The first time I encountered and looked at a kids club was when we stayed at a hotel property in Cancun over an extended Memorial Day weekend in 2023. Kaia was just shy of 1.5 years old then, and it was the first time I ever thought about childcare at a hotel. There is usually a minimum age for kids clubs (age 3 or 4) at hotels that offer them, but I remember wondering if we’d ever use one for Kaia, even if just for an hour or so at some point.

The opportunity presented itself twice at two all-inclusive hotels we stayed at — the first was in Barbados, and the second in Grenada. At both properties on the day I took Kaia in, no other children were there. In Barbados at a sister all-inclusive resort we hung out at for a full day, Kaia refused to let me leave her there, so we ended up playing together while I spoke with the childcare provider. There, she made a little bracelet complete with two “very special” charms that Jengsel, the childcare provider, presented to her: one was a silver seashell, and the second was a little crystal heart with a pink heart inside. Of course, Kaia loved both because she loves shells, hearts, AND the color pink. So she savored this bracelet and kept talking about it.

At the Grenada resort, I actually did bring Kaia there twice on two separate days for about 2-3 hours at a time. There, she was completely comfortable being on her own with the childcare providers. The first childcare provider, Shenique, was the kind of babysitter most parents would dream about: she was extremely hands on, had lots of conversations with Kaia, did multiple activities with her, and gave very frequent Whatsapp reports back to me, complete with photos and videos showing what Kaia was up to. With Shenique, Kaia made another bracelet, one that truly looked like it could have been made professionally and purchased at a boutique. It has beautiful turquoise and orange stone-like beads with silver accents. Kaia loves both and keeps talking about her bracelets from Barbados and Trinidad. And she still mentions Shenique’s name despite their limited time together.

Now that Kaia is older and more verbal, she can always share what she does and what happens with us, so there’s not as big of a mystery of what goes on with babysitters or at kids clubs like this. She genuinely enjoyed her time there, which made me feel good. I was also happy to have the chance to take advantage of “free” babysitting (I mean, is it really “free” if you are paying all-inclusive rates…), even if it was just a couple three-hour bursts. It was a very positive sign to hear that she wanted to go back the second time in Grenada, that this showed what a good time she had and how much she liked the childcare providers. As another childcare provider said at this kids club, “In Grenada, we take good care of our babies here! We love them all!”

Mangoes with black spots = sign of ripeness in other countries, but a sign of rot/”bad” in the U.S.

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One thing I noticed while eating the many varieties of mangoes we were lucky to taste across four Caribbean islands on this trip was that many of them are ripe when they have black spots. This is actually a good thing, not a bad thing: it signals to us that they are ready to eat, and we should eat them right away! This was the case for the Julie and mango longues, and especially true for the starch and dodo mangoes. We got told from multiple vendors, as well as our smoothie guy who gifted us the five cutlass mangoes in Port of Spain, that black spots were a positive thing. The funny thing is that I told Chris that this would absolutely not fly in the U.S. You could never have a display of mostly black spotted mangoes in the U.S. and actually get those to sell — no freaking way!

The strange thing, though, is that black spots with mango varieties readily available in the U.S. — so Ataulfo (champagne, our default from March to June) and Kent — actually are not good when they have black spots. For these two mango varieties that come from Mexico, black spots are a sign that they have really gone bad or are about to go bad. I know this after peeling and cutting hundreds and hundreds of mangoes over the years. Sometimes we don’t monitor the mangoes closely enough, and the black spots appear. And once the spots appear, this is truly a sign of rot. Those parts don’t taste good, or they actually smell off. Some of them become mush in the parts where the black spots are.

The American public is quite superficial when it comes to produce. Everyone wants picture-perfect fruit and vegetables, oftentimes at the expense of taste, flavor, and even nutrition. It’s partly why mainstream supermarket tomatoes look super red and plump but often taste like nothing or are mealy in texture inside. So I doubt that even if Trinidad and Tobago could export mango longue or starch mangoes to the U.S. that they would do well from a sales perspective outside of ethnic markets in neighborhoods with a large Caribbean population. That is sad, a real loss for someone like me who wants every single mango variety possible at the tips of her fingers!