Grandpa 's Journey

  Every person is born with a biological blueprint that helps shape who we become. But life is not only determined by our beginnings. Along the journey, we encounter choices, challenges, unexpected turns, and moments that test our strength. To me, fate is not a fixed destination. It is a living episode — a continuing story that gives us opportunities to choose how we respond. We can choose to improve, to learn, to contribute, or we can choose to give up. The meaning of our existence comes from the choices we make and the values we leave behind. One of my deepest wishes is to preserve the continuity of knowledge, experiences, and memories. A person's life is not only measured by achievements or possessions, but also by the lessons learned, the struggles overcome, and the wisdom shared with others. My own journey has reminded me many times that life is precious. I was born with the umbilical cord around my neck, yet I survived. Many years later, I faced a serious health challenge wit...

A Small Lesson from AI A Meaningful Moment at the Mall   This morning, I arrived at Hillcrest Mall as usual, looking forward to a cup of coffee before beginning my morning walk. As I stepped into the mall, I noticed an elderly couple, both in their 80s, sitting in the coffee area. The gentleman was trying to stand up from his chair. His wife reached out to help, but neither of them had enough strength to make it easy. I walked over and offered my assistance. Instead of pulling him up, I first asked him to relax. I suggested that he place both hands on the coffee table, lean his body forward, maintain that posture, and then push up with his legs. He gave it a try—and he succeeded. What made me happiest was not that I had helped him, but that he stood up through his own effort rather than relying on someone else to lift him. Soon afterward, he continued with his morning walk. Watching him walk away, I felt a quiet sense of satisfaction. This small incident reminded me that helpi...

  Last evening, Julie and I attended our monthly dinner with a group of longtime classmates. We have known one another for decades, and every gathering reminds us how precious these friendships have become. The evening brought mixed emotions. It was wonderful to sit around the table, enjoy a meal, laugh over old memories, and catch up on each other's lives. Time seemed to slow down as stories flowed from one person to another. At the same time, we couldn't ignore a simple reality—we are all growing older. Many of us are recovering from different health challenges. Some have had hip or back surgery. Some now walk with a cane or a rollator. Others are dealing with changes in vision or balance. Our conversations have gradually shifted from careers and raising families to rehabilitation, exercise, medical appointments, and learning how to stay active. Yet something else stood out even more. No one was complaining. Instead, everyone was talking about progress. One friend was delig...

There was a time when going to a Chiu Chow Restaurant meant one thing—you had to be prepared to wait. Reservations were rarely an option. Families simply took a number, chatted while waiting, and looked forward to a satisfying meal. It wasn't unusual to see a long queue stretching outside the entrance, especially on weekends. Back then, that long line was a sign of success. Over the years, I visited several Chiu Chow Restaurant潮州館 locations across Scarborough, Richmond Hill, and Markham. Each restaurant was busy, lively, and filled with the aroma of traditional Chiu Chow cooking. It was a familiar gathering place for families and friends. Today, every one of those locations has disappeared.  When I drive past where they once stood, I see different restaurant names. Most still serve Chinese food, but many now specialize in cuisines from northern China, featuring bold, spicy flavors and hot pots that have become increasingly popular with a new generation of diners. There is nothing w...

  Retirement has taught me that a good day doesn't always require a busy schedule. Sometimes, the best decisions are the simplest ones. This morning, Julie and I stopped briefly at Hillcrest Mall before driving to Deer Garden for brunch. Several weeks ago, we made the mistake of arriving around noon. The restaurant was packed, and finding a parking space in Times Square seemed almost impossible. We spent more time looking for parking than enjoying our meal. Today, we learned from that experience. We arrived much earlier than usual. There were plenty of parking spaces, no long wait, and we enjoyed a relaxing brunch of rice noodles with sliced beef, beef brisket, and fish. The food tasted even better because there was no rush. After brunch, we headed straight home. Normally, we would spend more time walking or visiting another shopping centre. But today's air quality was poor because of wildfire smoke drifting into our area. The sky looked hazy, and the air carried a smoky smell....

This morning, over a quiet cup of coffee, I spent a little time looking at the homepage of Grandpa Journey . There was nothing wrong with it. My Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, and Rednote links were displayed prominently beneath the blog title. They made it easy for visitors to find me on other platforms. But as I looked at the page, I asked myself a simple question: "What do I want visitors to notice first?" After thinking about it, the answer became very clear. I want people to notice Grandpa Journey , not my social media accounts. So I made a tiny change. I moved all the social media links from the top of the page to the footer. They are still there for anyone who wants to connect, but they no longer compete with the blog title and the stories themselves. It is only a small adjustment, yet it changes the feeling of the page. The homepage now looks cleaner, tidier, and more focused. My articles have become the centre of attention. Interestingly, after making...

  Grandpa Journey — July 15, 2026 This morning, when I stepped outside my home, I immediately felt that something was different. The summer heat was already waiting at the driveway. The air felt heavy with humidity, and after only a few steps, my body could feel the warmth and moisture surrounding me. But what caught my attention most was the sky. The whole surrounding area seemed to be painted with an unusual amber-yellow color. It was not the bright blue summer sky that we usually enjoy. Instead, there was a soft but mysterious yellowish glow, almost like nature had placed a filter over the neighbourhood. Then I noticed the smell. The air carried a smoky scent from the wildfires in the area. It reminded me that the beautiful-looking sky was actually a sign of something more serious happening in nature. The wildfire smoke had travelled far enough to affect our daily life, changing not only the appearance of the sky but also the quality of the air we breathe. As a senior, these m...