It’s a snowy day here in Vancouver, a rare and wondrous occasion, if you are not forced to drive. In next-to-no time there will be slush and more incessant drizzle, but today the world around me has been white with flurries and that muffled quiet that comes with accumulating snow. My little world, I might add, has been confined to the turquoise and orange granny bungalow we are snuggled up in; it’s now 5:30 pm and I remain in my pajamas, cloaked in a warm faux cashmere sweater and woolly grey socks.

Yesterday was our daughter Charlotte’s first shift working for the city of Vancouver as a swim instructor and lifeguard. She has two shifts a week in addition to her university studies – on Wednesday and Sunday evenings. We told her that as long as we are residing here in Vancouver, we will pick her up after she finishes work and drive her back to her dormitory on Burnaby Mountain. Happily, last night she wanted to come back to the bungalow that she call home: “I want to come home with you,” she says. I love it that wherever our family is, whether it be guesthouse or couch surfing or actually in our residence, we have always called it home. When we are together as a family, it is home. What joy it gave us to have this delightful daughter of ours want to be with us! We spent her entire three week winter break together, and she still hasn’t had enough of us. We are so fortunate.

Family has always been paramount for Don and me. We’ve been lucky to raise our daughters in Hong Kong and China (the country of their births) with teaching careers that allowed us to eat dinner together each night and have glorious family vacations in the summers as well as many adventurous forays during our abundant holidays. Our unit of four has been tightly knit. Because we don’t have a lot on the docket right now in terms of “have-to’s,” and because family has now taken on a whole new level of priority in our fragility, the fact that these two parents can pick up their kid from her job twice a week is more than a pleasure: we are framing all of our other activities around it!

Our dear friends, Steph and Aman, live a few minutes away from the pool, so we now have a standing date for dinner at their place on Charlotte’s days of employment. Last night, we brought a deliciously fragrant chilli along with crusty buns that another dear friend Donna had made for us – how spoiled we are – and we all gathered around the table, laughing and basking in the happiness we all feel when we are together. So easy. Family and chosen family. We are richly blessed on both accounts.

Tonight we will venture down the road in the Mini Cooper that my father has loaned us – while he walks the roads of Abbotsford on foot, eschewing the need for a vehicle, gallant man that he is – and we will have some steaming bowls of wonton soup and gailan (Chinese broccoli) and then come home and watch some Modern Family together.

Yes, I cried today. Yes, I miss my Emily every minute of every day. But, I also celebrate the wonderful folks who are here. There is much to be thankful for. Children in China are called ten thousand pieces of gold.  We have been wealthy beyond measure.