Family members are linked by an invisible bond. I did not believe in it until one day when I was about 8.

That year my parents were working in Danjiangkou. They returned to the city every fortnight. The time they came back home was a highlight of the boring life, which I looked forward to every two weeks.

One day it was time for them to be home. Only Father came back though. He seemed to be in pieces, although he greeted me as usual with a smile. I asked where Mum was. He explained, “Son, your mum has gone on a business trip. It will last for about a month.” Though a bit down, I did not think it was a big deal. When I asked Father about his past week, he sounded absent-minded.

After dinner, Dad put me to bed although it was a bit too early for me. After I was tucked in, he closed my bedroom door behind him. Some time later, I heard Dad chatting with my grandparents in the living room. Their muffled voices drifted over to me, and the way they were talking made my heart skip a beat. I felt something bad must have happened.

I got up and groped my way in the dark to the door, behind where I eavesdropped on them with bated breath. When I finally heard them better, my mind went blank. It turned out that Mum, having been involved in a car accident earlier in the day, was hospitalised in the ICU that very night.

Pushing open the door, I walked into the living room in my pyjamas. When they saw me, Dad and my grandparents had to be honest with me.

The next day, Dad took me on a visit to Mum at the hospital. Although I was too young to understand many life issues, I felt death all of a sudden cropping up in front of me.

The invisible bond between Mum and me helped me sense intuitively that she was in danger the very day she was in an accident. Luckily, she has long since recovered. Mother is right now by my side, watching me writing this entry in the English journal.