| 摘 要： | My mother passed on. The dreadful call came at 1：30 am on the morning of November 5, and by 8 o＇clock that morning I was on the first flight available out of New York to Beijing. One only loses his or her mother once. Nobody knows what the feeling is until the moment comes. The first few hours in the flight, I felt numb; I didn＇t know how I should feel, and I was trying to figure out why I was on a flight to Beijing. As the flight was approaching Beijing, I started to realize that Mother was gone, and I was coming home for her funeral. Images of Mother, so remote yet so clear, flashed through my mind.
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