Just this Friday morning, my friends called and asked if they could visit me and the kids. Since I am only at home, I say yes, but I told them I'm not prepared, and I told them that they should give me notice so I can cook for them. And they told me no need to worry, they will come and cook for our lunch. Since I have known them for more than a decade, we are like sisters here in Malaysia, I know them even before my husband I know. And they also insist on cooking, then I have no choice. And I said okay and waited for them to come. These two friends, mine, we met at our age is just 24 years old, and we all work as sales clerks at the same mall. the three women, far from home and family, we all have kids from the Philippines back then, that’s why we're trying to earn money in a foreign land for the future of our children. Anyway, I cleaned up our home and prepared a few snacks, though I knew they wouldn’t come empty-handed. Right on time, when they arrive, my 15-year-old daughter takes them from the lobby because the guard won't allow them to come in. When the moment they come in from the main door, the voices are so loud and so much excitement, because even though we are from the same country we're all busy in our own lives, the last time we met was one year ago. They walked in as if no time had passed at all. We hugged like we always do. Their hands were full of grocery bags. “We’re taking over your kitchen,” they laughed. “You sit and relax today.”
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And of course, I can’t just sit. I took my phone and snapped some groupies with them, smiling brightly at my kitchen while they were doing the cooking, a kind of photo that doesn’t just show faces but holds a thousand memories to remember in the future. And the kitchen came alive with activity. My friend in a light blue dress stood by the stove, she was the main chef for the day, hehe. stirring a wok full of hot minced meat. The one wearing a white blouse she assisting with passing the ingredients and kept the conversation going. We had talked about many things, jobs, families back home, and the funny memories from when we first came to Malaysia. We laughed about the times we had almost no food, making canned sardines and rice feel like a big meal just because we cooked it together. Now, with a more stable life and a little more wisdom, it felt like we had come full circle. Still cooking. Still laughing. Still together. I watched them quietly and felt thankful. The way they moved around the kitchen, teased each other, and understood each other without saying much showed how strong our friendship is. We are no longer the young girls full of dreams. We are now women, shaped by the years, connected by shared memories, and held together by trust and love.
When the dish was finally ready, they put it on the plate with care. Fresh green okra was placed around the minced meat, like flower petals. It looked like a blooming flower. It was simple food, but it was full of love, memories, and meaning. I took a photo, not for likes or comments, but to keep a memory that felt special. We sat at the table, the three of us. Plates of rice were ready, and our glasses of water sparkled under the kitchen light. The first bite was perfect, tasty, warm, and comforting. But the best part wasn’t the food. It was the conversation. Every word felt like a soft blanket, making us feel warm and safe. There was a quiet moment between our laughter. I looked at my friends and felt my eyes sting. It wasn’t sadness, it was thankfulness. How lucky it is to have friends who grow with you, who stay in your life with the same love and joy. As the afternoon light faded, we knew it was time to say goodbye. At the door, we smiled and promised to see each other again soon, not to let too much time pass. Another hug. Another laugh. Another meal made together. We honored fifteen years of friendship, built not on grand gestures, but on shared time, trust, and love. And that is everything.
