Note: This memory was written and originally published in the 2024 Circular Community Catalog for Angelenos, created by Jamie Hwang and illustrated by Tatiana Chamorro. A select few are still available at local LA bookstores and online. 

I am publishing it here in honor of my mom, Sydney, and the first anniversary of her passing. Missing you. 

A yellow house, charmed with age, a quirky red double-decker door, enveloped by white picket fencing, and most importantly, a Meyer lemon tree; this is my mom’s dream. These lemons are special with a subtle sweetness, she’d educate me. So when they were in season, and my mom could walk, slowly, with her cane to the market, and relish in their abundance. Lemon dressing, lemon cakes, zested and juiced, together.

Now my parents have a Meyer lemon tree in the backyard of their small rented apartment. They are bitter and green and grainy, hardened by the Pasadena shade. Later, I’d discover that these lemons hail from China, like me. They’re now a reminder of pleasure, of dreaming, of a home almost in reach.