This morning I got picked up by the same Grab driver as last time. We got to talking — more than last time — when he asked if I could claim my ride. I mentioned my accident. He said he'd noticed last time but felt paiseh asking. That opened something up. He told me about his own ah boy days, fifty years ago: showing off on a bike, trying to impress, and ending up in a drain. His family never let him ride again.
I told him I can't hide my accident — my parent's visiting, and anyway, my dad also sometimes ride scooter back in China. So he will get it. The freedom, the joy. Though scared, I will still want to build my mental strength to ride.
We hit some traffic. He detoured. Somewhere in that detour he mentioned he's from China too, and his sister and brother are visiting home right now. He wants to go next year. I could hear how much that means to him.
When I got off, I took the snack my parent had brought and passed it to him. It just felt like the right thing to do. His face lit up. "You made my day," he said.
I walked away smiling. It was such an ordinary thing — just being human, just being kind. And somehow that was enough.✨