I love Chinese New Years. I will never think of ”避年”, or “hiding from CNY”, a practice that involves taking a vacation during this period so one is freed from the obligations of this festivity. I don’t perceive seeing my extended family as an obligation. This is just about the only time in a year that I get to see them. I don’t mind them asking me why I’m not having a second child, or how much bonus I made in the preceding year (or both!). Yes, there’s nosiness, maybe even insensitivity, but I’m convinced they mean no harm. More importantly, in the lifelong battle against Time, I see them as my most reliable allies in the defense of Memories. They are the ones who can fill in the gaps, of what life in our Lorong Napiri kampung was like, what my parents were like, what my brother and I were like. Every Chinese New Year, I am reminded of what I share with these people I see once a year. And that is not only blood, but also a lasting love of my grandparents who have passed on, and a collective memory of yesteryears, hazier but more beautiful with each CNY.