The Root

This is a photo of my grandfather and myself, was the very last time we saw each other before I moved to Australia 24 years ago.

He was the kindest man in the neighbourhood. He spoke softly, calm, never rush a thing. He was a great cook, and he taught me how to cook fried sunny side egg in perfection. At day time, he worked at the tip in the middle-class area, so quite often he brought me some cool toys people threw away to the bin. He was my Santa Clause for many years.

When he wasn't working or cooking for the family, he would treat our neighbours, when they have twisted ankles, or sickness, my grandfather would cook the herbs and treat them with it, rub their ankles with secret mixed tincture and his healing hands. I watched, and learned, sitting quietly at the corner of the 4x4m public housing where we all lived.

For many years, I didn't even think I would be following his footsteps one day. Fast forward, I think he was watching over me, guiding me along the way. I felt his gentle present sometimes, just observing, and make sure I give my clients plenty of healing love unconditionally.

Thank you "Yeh-Yeh" (means grandfather in Chinese)!