The family heads up the stairs to the 6th floor to Gonggong and Popo’s old apartment to make their offerings to the altar. The praying altar typically resides at the youngest son’s home due to a tradition of passing on the parent’s house to the youngest son. After their deaths, family conflict arised between the youngest brother and 7 other siblings resulting in the praying altar now residing in an apartment that Gongong and Popo used to live. 

The view from the apartment’s balcony opens up to Guangzhou’s continuously changing landscape. “The government tore down the building we originally lived in and relocated us to these apartments. The view used to be of farm land for as far as you could see.” Mother reminensces. 

‭ ‬“Ma, Ba, I’ve come back,” Mother begins to cry as she greets her mom and dad at the altar. Incense, fresh fruit and various pastries were bought beforehand to place as offerings to my grandparents. 

A portrait produced by a digital service specializing in funerary portraits is framed and placed in the middle of the altar. Gongong died in 1994 when I was two years old and Popo died when I was 22. 

Mother brushes her hand over the handiwork of the chair as she recalls the memory of Gongong making it in her youth. 

Father, mother and my brother, Ted, sit on wooden benches handcrafted by Gongong. “This was also Gonggong’s bed. This is where he slept,” Mother remarks, referring to the bench on the right. 

Father gazes through the window after being woken from a nap by Mother. “It’s time to go,” she says.  

Mother poses for a portrait taken outside the apartment.