To the Parents Who Never Asked for Thanks | Part 2: Finding Her Way Back

Stirring Something Familiar

The turning point in Alice’s cultural reconnection came through cooking - and love. Her former partner, a Korean chef, had a strong grasp of his cultural identity. “He was really in touch with his culture and his food. He knew exactly what dishes to cook for each holiday,” Alice says. “It made me realize how little I knew about my own.”

That realization led her to the kitchen, where she began asking her mom how to cook traditional Chinese dishes. One recipe in particular left a mark: sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves, made during a special Chinese holiday. “My mom would spend days making them and give them to people she appreciates. That tradition really stayed with me. I want to learn how to make that.”

Cooking became more than just a skill - it became a bridge to her parents and to a part of herself she had long overlooked. 

“They’re the only touchpoint to my culture,” she says. In learning how to cook with her mom, she was reconnecting not just with her heritage, but with the people who carried it forward.

The Way They Show Up

Through cooking, Alice began to feel a quiet responsibility - not just to her parents, but to her culture. “As women now, we have careers and our own lives, but there’s still this expectation that we carry the family culture,” she says. “It doesn’t just happen anymore. You have to make the effort.”

She continues, her voice steady but full of meaning: “It’s so easy to just not care about it. But it is important - because ultimately, it’s part of you. Your parents have gone through all these experiences, and they want to pass on the knowledge. And I want to keep that knowledge.”

Her older brother doesn’t cook, but Alice sees his love clearly. “He’s a very preserved, stoic kind of guy, like my dad. But he always shows up. His way of showing love is through acts of service - he helps out financially, and he’s there when they want to do things. He joins family plans, shows up when it matters. That’s how he supports my parents in his own way.”

Their father, too, speaks in actions more than words. “He doesn’t say much, but he’s always there. You know he’s there." It’s a quiet presence that brings comfort - a steady kind of assurance. A safety net you don’t always notice until you fall. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t seek attention but is deeply felt. And in recent years, Alice has come to fully see it.

The Quiet Urge to Preserve (to be continued…)