A steering wheel too hot to touch, a scorching driver’s seat, and a blazing sun outside burning skin bright red—I’ve felt every single bit of this over the past week.
Having lived here for over two years, this is the first time I’ve experienced a heatwave so intensely firsthand. Perhaps my neighborhood has been lucky; the last couple of heatwaves weren’t nearly as bad as I’d imagined. In fact, we didn’t even need to turn on a fan.
But this time was different. Even though our house faces south—where usually just cracking a door open brings in a lovely breeze—opening every single window for cross-ventilation these past few days did absolutely nothing. The air remained completely still.
Dealing with the heat in the UK is a completely different experience compared to my past days in Hong Kong. Perhaps it’s the latitude, but the sun here feels incredibly low on the horizon, as if the heat is slapping you right in the face. Stepping outside doesn’t just require a sun hat anymore; putting on sunscreen has become an absolute must.
Yet, we adapt to everything—especially the kids.
Over the last few days, they’ve well-trained themselves to run out to the car ahead of me, opening the doors to let the trapped heat escape. They’ve also learned to pack drinks and snacks before we set off. Once in the car, right before we drive away, they’ll even thoughtfully ask if I need a bottle of water just in case.
Back when we lived in Hong Kong, I could never have imagined any of this.
Truth be told, I was never a “helicopter parent” who coddled my children back in Hong Kong. But after living here for over two years, they haven’t just learned independence—they’ve learned how to genuinely care for the family members around them. This empathy is more precious than anything, and it will be a vital asset for them as they navigate the world in the future.
Of course, there is still a long way to go. Will they continue to grow straight and true, or will they accidentally falter along the way? The big things are always revealed in the smallest moments. We must never overlook the details; details dictate success or failure, and they form the vital foundation of one’s character.
Perhaps it’s precisely because of our life here, with more time to spend together, that I’ve come to realize something: children who grow up with their parents actively present and leading by example are far happier than those who are given purely material comforts.
I still vividly remember the days when I used to battle it out in the office from dawn to dusk.
Every day, I would drag my exhausted body home. The moment I stepped through the door, before I could even change my clothes, I’d collapse onto the sofa and fall fast asleep. One day, my daughter, who was still very little back then, woke me up. Seeing that I had made it home slightly earlier than usual, she stood by the front door, looked at me earnestly, and said:
“I’m going to complain to your boss!”
“What?” I replied, not quite registering it.
“I’m going to tell him to stop making Daddy work overtime every day!”
“Huh?” At the time, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Because… I want Daddy to come home and have dinner with me.”
That moment sent a jolt straight to my heart. It turned out that a meal—something that seemed so simple to me—held such immense weight in my child’s heart.
From that day on, no matter how busy I was, I made it a point to go home first, have dinner with my family, take a shower, and then head back to the office late at night to finish my work. That was the lesson my child taught me, and I still hold it deep in my heart today.
Sitting down together as a family to share a meal is, and always will be, the most important part of the day.
