Our Last Holiday, and the First Step Forward
When I was seven, my parents and I went on a homestay trip into the highlands of Sarawak. We stayed at the beautiful wooden Anita-Elvis Bario Homestay, about 10-15 minutes from Bario Airport. Nestled among golden paddy fields, the calm and comfort of this place came as a welcome surprise. There were no crowds or stress; everyone moved carefree while the locals enjoyed a good chat. Sharing a room with my parents made me feel safe and connected. That trip turned out to be one of our last joyful times as a family.
Once we were home, things started to change. I could tell there were more arguments in our household. The good times at home began to disappear. One day, my mother sat down beside me quietly and told me that she and Papa had decided to separate.
I didn’t understand. I kept recalling our time at the homestay, how we danced together with the villagers, and the smile on Papa’s face when he watched Mum dancing. I believed that if we went back there, maybe things could fall into place again.
Five years passed and life moved on, but I still felt incomplete. During the holidays, my mother kindly asked, “Would you like to revisit Bario?”
I agreed although part of me was worried that I couldn’t enjoy it as much as the first time.
When we arrived, Aunty Anita greeted us with her usual warm hug and friendly smile. “You’re home now,” she told us.
At first, it hurt. I remembered racing along the wooden floor with Papa and sitting in the living room, listening to stories. But during that visit, my mother and I began making new memories together.
We helped Aunty Anita cook her special Bario rice over a fire. I hadn’t seen my mum laugh that much in years. The next day, we hiked up Prayer Mountain. As we reached the top, the clouds cleared and the sun shone on the valley below. We stood in silence, enjoying the cool air, and I felt something in my heart begin to heal.
My mother gently held my hand and whispered, “It’s okay to miss the past, but you must keep going. I’m sorry you had to grow up too soon… and I’m proud of you.”
I prayed that my mother could find happiness again. I knew she carried guilt in her heart for not being able to give me a whole family, but I wanted her to feel my prayer: that what we had now was still love, and it was enough.
Prayer Mountain became more than just a viewpoint—it was where we found peace, side by side.
Before we left, Aunty Anita gave us a small woven pouch. “For your journey,” she said. I still keep it on my desk—not just as a souvenir, but as a reminder that even after things fall apart, love can grow again in unexpected places. —DayakDaily
Ian Liew Ting Yee from Sibu is the Gold Winner (Youth Category) in the ‘Homestay Odyssey’ writing competition organised by DayakDaily and supported by the Sarawak Ministry of Tourism, Creative Industry and Performing Arts.
