This picture book is dedicated to my mother and paternal grandmother,
whose love has always been unconditional.
The book is divided into three parts: the first recounts a conversation I had with my grandmother before our separation; the second explores the complex emotions of repeatedly leaving home as I grew up; and the third depicts the difficult yet tender reunion with my mother.
During the moments when I longed most for freedom, I would recall the disappointment on my grandmother’s face as we parted, and the unspoken longing I felt for my mother. Reaching the seaside after emerging from the long tunnel was not only an arrival into freedom, but also a confrontation with the weight of love I carried as I looked back toward them.
The first part of the picture book records a conversation I had with my grandmother before we parted. Raised by her since childhood, I began living away from home at sixteen—from attending high school in the same city to later studying abroad overseas. The distance between us grew with each stage of life, and the time we had together became increasingly brief.
During our rare reunions, my grandmother always tried her best to appear cheerful, hoping that I would not feel sad. Even when she felt the weight of our impending separation, she would hide her emotions almost immediately. Her love was expressed through countless small gestures: cooling a bowl of hot porridge for me, packing warm fried dumplings for my journey.
The intimate childhood I shared with her has long passed, yet her old recipes still resurface from time to time, stirring my memories gently—as if that sense of familiarity and safety had never truly left me.
My childhood was filled with my family’s love, though it was not without conflict. Both childhood and one’s family of origin shape every aspect of who we eventually become. I believe this is much like the longing and complicated emotions I continue to carry for my hometown even after leaving—it is a way of “travelling with one’s hometown on one’s back.”
In these three illustrations, Sylvan’s belly contains an ever-growing collection of memories: the pumpkin doll on my grandmother’s piano, the strawberry toy my paternal grandmother bought for me, my childhood bedroom, each birthday cake throughout the years, and even seashells and window views from my life abroad. These images trace my journey of growing up. In the background, I bid farewell to the first old house of my childhood memories, try to escape repeated conflicts and arguments, and finally arrive at a quiet, solitary coastal meadow in a foreign country.
This section serves as a bridge between the story of my grandmother and the story of my mother. It represents a moment of pause after leaving home—one that allows me to look back, breathe, and reflect. Those who cannot leave their hometown in spirit will forever travel with it on their backs. I resonate deeply with this idea. Though this burden may feel heavy, it also holds warmth and healing—for love, by its very nature, carries weight.