The age difference between me and my youngest male cousin from my mother’s side is almost 8 years. Looking at “8” as a single digit number, it may seem like a small gap, but our recent trip to my mom’s hometown, and my birthplace, made me realise how far it actually is. Not too much that I’ve built a family in the middle of it, but far enough that I’ve lived a different life from him. From left to right, my aunt's memorabilia, my not-so-baby cousin, me and my mom in our birthplace While visiting our ancestral house where almost all of us cousins lived at some point in our lives, we had this crazy idea to look at all the photo albums and look at our old photos. It started when I opened a cabinet that my aunt forbade me to open when I was a kid. Now that I’m well into adulthood and my aunt no longer lives in the ancestral house, I thought it was a good idea to walk down memory lane. The cabinet was filled with my aunt’s most treasured memories during her years abroad. There were…
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