They say life is too short for regret. My biggest isn’t the obvious one, that of the failure of my marriage but missing the boat on finding out who my parents really are and communicating with them beyond the shallows of small talk. Apart from my earliest fond memories of Mum burning the midnight oil sewing away so that we had new clothes to wear on Chinese New Year’s Day. However empty our stomach and family coffer, Mum made sure we were dignified in our poverty. We didn’t feel deprived or suffer an inferiority complex because everybody else in the Yau Hamlet was in the same boat. And in our cash poor state we were very inventive with making up games to amuse ourselves with our cousins. Roaming the tiny village freely we led not only a carefree existence but got very fit climbing trees, chasing one another and stayed out till our mothers called us for the evening meal. It was a happy childhood that money can’t buy.