“What are you talking about?”

John lifted his tablet from the coffee table and placed it between us. The images were disturbing. A large public square filled with thousands of people, winter coats, makeshift shields of corrugated steel, gas masks, yellow and blue flags mixed with the European Union flag, burning vehicles, protest signs, plumes of smoke, barricades, and soldiers with guns. “Our identity, culture, language are at risk by moving away from the European Union and into the corrupt arms of Russia,” he said. I watched in horror as John scrolled through hundreds of pictures, letting me take it all in.

“Listen, I was born here in Canada. My parents were also born here. Yet my blood boils watching Yanukovych shoot people in the main square,” John said. “If Leo wasn’t here, you better believe I would be on the next plane. Why do you think I’ve been boxing up winter coats and medical supplies? When your people are suffering and fighting for their survival of course you want to do something about it.”

“I had no idea you felt so strongly about what was going on. I didn’t realize it was so personal. I thought you were just doing something humanitarian,” I said, moving closer to him.

“It is humanitarian, but it’s also a defence of our Ukrainian identity in the world.” John’s voice started to thicken, and I took his hand, surprised to learn he’d sheltered me from his inner turmoil in the last few months.

“My point is you can’t know what your mother was thinking. Her fights, her sufferings are unknown to you. Her motivation, while foreign to you, may not have been foreign for her.”

What John said didn’t make me feel better, and he saw that. “Knowing this doesn’t mean that you have to forgive her,” he said. “It doesn’t mean you have to accept her choice. It just means that you may not fully understand how and why she made that choice.” He squeezed my hand and I nodded.

“There is just so much I don’t know,” I said. “We’re just speculating, guessing.”

“Maybe you should ramp up your quest to find her. Ask her yourself.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “My mother obviously doesn’t want to be found. If she did, she would have written, called. Something, anything.” I threw up my hands.

“You said that Alfred doesn’t know what happened after she went to Ipoh. Maybe you should find out.”

“You mean go to Ipoh?”

John nodded. “I’m on parental leave now. You can take all that vacation you’ve banked. Maybe now is the right time.”

“We’re really going to go halfway across the world?”

“With a baby!” John said, laughing.

Part 3

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“THERE’S A REASON WHY I CAME TO CANADA. So you would never have to go back.”

Even though Father was opposed to the trip, he was helping me clean out my fridge for the sojourn abroad. Wiping down the shelves despite my protests to leave them be, Father berated Auntie Choo Neo for travelling with us.