Hello everyone, Today, I want to share a story from my childhood with you. This memory feels both vivid and blurry — like an old film playing in my mind, with flickering light, faint sounds, and a bittersweet feeling in my heart. 哈囉，大家好。 今天想和你們分享一段我童年的故事。 這一段記憶對我來說，既真實又模糊， 像一部老電影，在腦海裡有光、有聲音，也有心裡的一點酸。 When I left northern Taiwan, I had just entered my second year of elementary school. My family moved to Kaohsiung, and from then on, life became a little unstable — like a snail without its shell, wandering everywhere looking for a place to rest. 離開了北部的生活，那年我剛升上國二。 我們全家又搬到了高雄。 從那時開始，生活變得有點顛簸， 像一隻沒有殼的蝸牛，到處找地方落腳。 By that time, my parents were already living separately. My mom would visit two or three times a week, while I stayed with my dad, living in a tiny storage room at his friend’s place. It was located behind a fire station — small and dark. There was a little glass window on the ceiling, and light would trickle in through it. My dad and I shared one bed. I remember often praying toward that little skylight — it was the same moment I mentioned in my episode “The Broken Bone Miracle.” 那時候，爸爸媽媽已經分開住了。 媽媽一個禮拜會來看我兩三次， 而我，跟著爸爸住在他朋友家的小儲藏間。 那地方在消防局後面，很小、很暗。 天花板上有一塊小小的玻璃，光會從那裡透進來。 我和爸爸就睡在同一張床上。 我還記得，我常常對著那個小天窗禱告—— 那也是我在《斷骨奇蹟》裡提到的那個時刻。 My dad drank every day back then. My daily task was to cross the street and buy him half a dozen bottles of rice wine or beer. At night, his friends would come over to drink, chat, and discuss work. Sometimes, the policemen or firefighters next door would play mahjong right beside our room. Strangely, I didn’t mind the noise. Only when my dad got drunk and his voice suddenly grew loud would I frown a little — but I stayed quiet, just being there. 爸爸那時每天都喝酒。 我每天的任務，就是去對面的小店幫他買半打米酒頭或啤酒。 晚上，爸爸的朋友會來找他喝酒、聊天、談案子， 有時候，隔壁的警察或消防員會在我們房間旁邊打麻將。 奇怪的是，我並不覺得被打擾。 只是爸爸喝醉的時候，聲音會突然變得很大。 那一刻，我總會輕輕皺一下眉頭，但還是默默待著。 ⸻ We didn’t have our own toilet. If I needed to pee, I had to go to a corner of the water-storage room outside. For number two, I had to walk through the kitchen and the living room to get to the bathroom. There were so many rats and cockroaches there. Once, a rat even crawled across my face while I was sleeping — I was terrified. After that, we set traps and sometimes could smell the dead rats afterward. But whenever we found one, my dad would take me out to a restaurant to celebrate. Looking back, it was absurd and somehow adorable — our own little “ritual” together. 我們沒有自己的廁所。 如果要上小號，就要到外面的儲水室角落解決； 要上大號，得穿過廚房、經過客廳，才能到達馬桶。 那裡老鼠和蟑螂超多， 有一次，一隻老鼠竟然從我臉上爬過去。 那一刻，我真的嚇壞了。 後來我們放了捕鼠器， 有時還能聞到老鼠屍體的味道。 但只要找到屍體，爸爸就會帶我去餐廳慶祝。 現在想起來，那樣的日子既荒謬又可愛。 那是我和爸爸之間，默契的「小儀式」。 ⸻ Although that period of time was very dark, I always knew — my parents’ love for me never faded. Even though they were busy and emotionally distant, they still loved me in their own ways. I had a lot of freedom: I could run and play with the neighborhood kids, or wander off to explore on my own. When Mom came, she always brought me delicious food. When I broke my arm, she visited every day to massage it or remind me to take more calcium and vitamin B. Dad sometimes went away for a week on work trips, and without Mom around, I had to take care of myself. Before leaving, he would hand me a thick wad of cash — ten thousand NT dollars as pocket money. To me, that felt like a fortune. I’d use it to buy little things I liked, or treat my friends to ice cream and movies. That sense of having control over my tiny world made me feel so happy and free. 雖然那一段時間非常黑暗，但我始終知道——爸爸媽媽對我的疼愛從未少過。 即使他們各自忙碌、情感疏離，卻仍然以他們的方式愛著我。 我擁有許多自由：可以和鄰居的孩子們在巷子裡追逐玩耍，也能自己到處探索。 媽媽來的時候總是會為我帶好吃的， 我骨折後手彎彎的期間，媽媽每天都會來幫我的手臂按摩或者提醒我要吃更多的鈣片和維生素B； 爸爸偶爾要出門工作，一走就是一個禮拜，沒有媽媽的陪伴，我就得一人打理自己的生活， 他總會在離開前塞給我一疊鈔票——一萬元的零用錢。 那時候的我覺得這是一筆巨款， 我會拿著它去買自己喜歡的小東西，或是請朋友吃冰、看電影。 那種自己掌握小世界的感覺，讓我感受到前所未有的快樂與自由。 我的網站：flywithlily.com
