Chinese New Year is often described as the loudest time of the year. The sound of laughter. The clinking of glasses. The chatter of relatives filling every corner of the house.
But for one Malaysian woman, the quiet was what she remembers most. That year, it was just her and her father. They still put up the Spring Festival couplets and prepared reunion dinner, but only cooked two dishes.
The dining table was big, yet only two people sat there, eating together in a house that felt emptier than ever.
This was shared anonymously on the XUAN Facebook page.
“That year, it was just Dad and me”
She wrote that the year her mother passed away, Chinese New Year suddenly felt meaningless.
Relatives had their own families to visit. No one wanted to come to a house that had “only a father and daughter left”.
The whole world felt like it only had my dad and me,” she shared.
Without her mum, the festival that once meant reunion and warmth became something heavy and unfamiliar.
“Are we still celebrating this year?”
Unsure of what to do, she asked her father a simple question.
“Are we still celebrating this year?”
He paused for a moment before replying, “We should. Otherwise your mum will worry.”
It was a small sentence. But it carried the weight of grief, love, and responsibility.
They still put up Spring Festival couplets. They still prepared reunion dinner. But instead of a full table of dishes, they only cooked two.
The dining table was large, yet only two people sat there.
A noisy TV in a quiet house
That night, they watched television while eating New Year cookies. The programmes were loud and festive. But the house remained quiet.
At one point, her father suddenly said, “Your mum used to be afraid of things being too quiet.”
Then he lowered his head and pretended to sip his tea. It was in that moment that she realised something.
Adults are not immune to pain. They are just better at holding it in.
“Chinese New Year is not about the noise”
That year, there were no house visits. No family photos. No festive buzz. Yet it was the first time she truly understood what Chinese New Year meant.
It is not about how loud the house is. It is about having someone willing to sit at the same table as you.
Even if there are only two people left.
Her anonymous post has since resonated with many Malaysians who shared similar experiences of navigating their first festive season after losing a loved one.
Because sometimes, celebrating is not about joy. It is about remembering, and staying together, so the ones who left us would not worry.
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