Chapter 14
Wherever We Went
For some people, home is a place they never leave.
For 阿嬤 and Grandpa, home became something they carried with them.
By the time they had established their careers in Taiwan, they had
already learned an important lesson about life together. New
opportunities rarely arrived at convenient moments. They often required
difficult decisions, a willingness to leave familiar surroundings and
the confidence to begin again.
When the opportunity came to move to Hong Kong, they accepted it much as
they had approached so many other turning points in their lives—with
careful thought, quiet determination and very little drama.
阿嬤 never described the move as an adventure. Nor did she speak of
it as a sacrifice. It was simply the next chapter in the life they were
building together.
Hong Kong in those years was unlike the Taipei they had known. It was a
city alive with commerce, where ships crowded the harbour, traders moved
constantly between countries and international businesses connected Asia
with the rest of the world. People spoke Cantonese in the markets,
English in many offices and countless other languages in between. For a
family arriving from Taiwan, it was both familiar and entirely new.
Like so many of 阿嬤's stories, however, the city itself was never
the focus. She talked instead about getting on with life.
The children settled into new schools. Grandpa continued his work in
banking. 阿嬤 found another position, joining a Taiwanese trading
company called Big Star. The business connected Taiwan with mainland
China, exporting and importing products that ranged from seafood to
everyday goods. Once again, she entered an unfamiliar workplace, learned
what needed to be done and quietly became someone her colleagues could
depend upon.
She gave remarkably little
attention to titles or achievements. She never measured her
life by promotions. She measured it by whether she was able to
contribute.
That quiet attitude had guided every decision she had made since
graduating from university. She had chosen work that suited her
character rather than her ego. She had returned to work when her family
needed her to. She had supported Grandpa's career as naturally as he had
supported hers. Now, in another city, she simply did what she had always
done.
She started again.
Years later, another turning point arrived. As uncertainty surrounding
Hong Kong's future grew, many families began considering life elsewhere.
阿嬤 and Grandpa eventually chose to move once more, this time to
Canada. Once again, familiar routines were left behind. Once again, new
neighbourhoods, new workplaces and new friendships had to be built from
the beginning.
For many people, beginning again becomes harder with age. For 阿嬤, it simply became another part of life.
She continued working in Canada, spending time with an import-export
company before later joining the Bank of Tokyo. Different countries
brought different colleagues, different customers and different ways of
working, but the qualities she carried into each role never changed. She
remained dependable. She remained diligent. She remained quietly
committed to doing her work well, regardless of where that work happened
to be.
Only when she reached sixty-five did she finally retire. Even then, the
decision reflected the same practicality that had shaped so much of her
life. Having worked for decades across Taiwan, Hong Kong and Canada, she
waited until she qualified for Taiwan's pension before stepping away
from full-time employment.
A life like 阿嬤's could be described through the names of
companies or the countries in which she lived. She never did. She
remembered people more readily than organisations. She remembered
conversations more than job titles. The details that remained vivid were
never the milestones printed on a résumé. They were the ordinary moments
that filled the years between them.
Across those decades, what stands out is not how many times
阿嬤 began again. It is how little beginning again ever seemed to
change who she was.
New cities became home.
New workplaces became familiar.
New colleagues became friends.
The circumstances changed again and again.
阿嬤 did not.
Wherever life took her, she carried the same quiet steadiness, the same
willingness to work hard and the same instinct to put family before
herself.
That is why her story never feels like the story of a career. It feels like the story of a woman who understood that home is not created by an address, a company or even a country.
Home is created by the people you love, the values you carry and the
life you quietly build together.
第十四章
無論去到哪裡
對有些人來說,家是一個他們從未離開的地方。
但對阿嬤和阿公來說,家變成了他們隨身攜帶的東西。
在他們於台灣站穩事業的時候,他們已經學到了關於共同生活的重要一課:新的機會很少在方便的時候到來。它們往往需要困難的決定、離開熟悉環境的意願、以及從頭開始的自信。
當去香港的機會出現時,他們像面對人生中許多其他轉捩點一樣接受了它——帶著仔細的思考、安靜的決心、以及非常少的戲劇性。
阿嬤從來沒有把那次搬家形容為冒險。她也沒有說那是犧牲。那只是他們一起打造的人生中的下一章。
那些年的香港,和他們認識的臺北不同。那是一座充滿商業活力的城市,船隻擠滿了港口,商人在各國之間不斷往來,國際企業將亞洲和世界其他地方連結了起來。人們在市場說廣東話,在許多辦公室說英語,還有人說數不清的其他語言。對一個從台灣來的家庭來說,它既熟悉又全新。
但和阿嬤的許多故事一樣,城市本身從來不是重點。她說的是繼續過日子。
孩子們在新的學校安頓下來。阿公繼續在銀行業工作。阿嬤找到了另一個職位,加入了一家叫Big Star的台湾貿易公司。這家公司連結台灣和中國大陸,進出口的產品從海鮮到日常用品都有。再一次,她走進了一個陌生的工作環境,學會了需要做的事,靜靜地成為了同事們可以信賴的人。
她很少在意頭銜或成就。她從來不拿升遷來衡量自己人生的價值。她衡量它的方式,是她能不能貢獻。
那份安靜的態度,指引了她從大學畢業以來的每一個決定。她選擇了適合自己性格、而不是滿足自己虛榮的工作。她在家庭需要她的時候回到工作崗位。她支持阿公的事業,就像他支持她的一樣自然。現在,在另一個城市,她只是做了她一直在做的事。
她重新開始了。
幾年後,另一個轉捩點來了。隨著香港未來的變數增加,許多家庭開始考慮移居別處。阿嬤和阿公最終選擇了再一次搬家,這一次是到加拿大。熟悉的日常又被留在了身後。新的社區、新的職場、新的友誼,又得從零開始建立。
對許多人來說,重新開始會隨著年齡增長而變得越來越難。但對阿嬤來說,那只不過是人生中的又一部分。
她在加拿大繼續工作,先在一家進出口公司,後來加入了東京銀行。不同的國家帶來了不同的同事、不同的客戶、不同的工作方式,但她帶進每一個角色的特質從未改變。她始終可靠。她始終勤奮。她始終靜靜地承諾要把工作做好,無論那份工作在哪裡。
一直到了六十五歲,她才終於退休。即使在那時候,這個決定也反映了她一生中一貫的務實。在台灣、香港、加拿大工作了幾十年之後,她等到符合台灣領取退休金的資格,才離開了全職工作。
像阿嬤這樣的人生,可以透過公司的名字或居住過的國籍來描述。她從來不這麼做。她記住的是人,而不是組織。她記住的是對話,而不是職稱。留在她記憶中鮮活的,從來不是印在履歷表上的里程碑。而是那些填滿了幾十年之間的平凡時刻。
在那些歲月裡,最引人注目的不是阿嬤重新開始了多少次,而是重新開始這件事,似乎從來沒有改變過她是誰。
新的城市變成了家。
新的職場變得熟悉。
新的同事變成了朋友。
環境一次又一次地改變。
但阿嬤沒有變。
無論人生把她帶到哪裡,她都帶著同樣安靜的穩定、同樣願意努力工作的態度、以及同樣把家庭放在第一的本能。
這就是為什麼她的人生故事從來不像一個職涯故事。它像一個女人理解到,家不是由地址、公司或甚至國家創造的。
家,是由你愛的人、你秉持的價值、以及你們靜靜一起打造的人生所創造的。