A Short Story: The Happiest Day Of My Family

My family and I are from China, where most of our relatives and extended families still reside. When I was 4 or 5 years old, my father hopped onto a plane and flew to Canada, in hopes to find a better future for my mother and me. From ages 4 to 8, I lived with my mother in a small apartment. Close to the end of age 8, my mother and I got onto a plane and was finally able to reunite with my father. On the day of the reunion, I was unsure if I was excited to finally see my father or if I was excited to finally ride a plane.

As soon as we landed, my mother scurried to the exit and her eyes swifts through the crowd looking for my father.

“There there there!”

My mother exclaimed with excitement.

“Go run to him”

So I did. I ran to the middle aged male with his arms stretched out, welcoming me with a ginormous smile on his face. That might be the happiest day of his life, for I have never seen him happier.

I bet you already forgot about me! Hahaha”

The man spoke to me in Chinese with the same accent I spoke in.

“No I remember.”

I answered with a huge smile on my face. To be honest, I don’t know if I can even recall my father’s face without referencing to photos of him, and I didn’t even know who I should look for at the airport. The idea of a father figure was so strange to me, my emotions were much conflicted. To me, my father was mainly constructed from my mother’s words.

In the beginning, my favourite time of the day was when my father returned home from his work. He would often have a new riddle ready to entertain my mother and me.

“If you have three light bulbs in an isolated room with three light switches outside the room. How do you determine which switch controls which light