This year, we told Mama, “Let’s just ta bao okay… you’re still recovering.” We really didn’t want her to be tired. She looked at us and said, “It’s okay… I can still cook. I just give instructions.” And just like that, the kitchen came alive again. The smell of her Hainanese chicken rice filled the house. Abalone seafood on the table. All the must-haves. She didn’t stand long. She didn’t lift the heavy pots. But she sat there guiding her helper step by step — “add a bit more soy sauce… don’t for