When I woke up that fateful morning of September 1st, 2010, a pool of dread had settled in my stomach. Today is the day my mom and my brother, Aidan, leave China and join my dad back in the States. Today is the day I am left to live with my grandma and grandpa for six months. My levels of apprehension and anxiety rose as I thought about what was about to happen. I would be without my closest family members in a country where I barely speak the language, and go to school here as well.
  

  Finally, I made up my mind, and slowly got dressed and ready for breakfast, trying to drag out the inevitable. As my family and I made our way down to our grandparents apartment, I tried to savor just being with them.
   

After eating breakfast, we all walked down to the door of the apartment building. I was clinging onto my mom’s arm, desperately trying to hold on. We stopped by the door with all of the suitcases and bags, waiting for the car that would take them to the airport to come, and said our final goodbyes. When I hugged my mom, I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes, and could see my mom watching as the tears eventually spilled over and I started to cry.
   

“I don’t want you to go. Take me with you!” I sobbed into my mom’s arm.
   

“Sweety, you will be fine. I will still see you when we Skype.” she whispered back gently. She pulled me into a warm hug, and we stood there, mother and daughter.
   

After a long moment, the car pulled up, and it was time for them to go. The moment of separation felt painful, like ripping off a band-aid. The driver helped my mom put all of the luggage in the trunk, and she and Aidan got in the car.
   

“Bye Mom, I’ll miss you.” I said as she got in the car.
   

“I’ll miss you too, Ana. Have fun at school, I love you!” she called out before shutting the door with a heavy thud. The car started up and started to drive away.
  

  As they turned the corner, my tears doubled and I quickly turned and hugged my grandma for support. I was filled with a sense of loss that was unfamiliar to me. Someone who had always been in my life was now absent, and I couldn’t get them back. But I had to be strong, because staying in Shanghai was my choice. And though it ripped me apart, I put myself back together and was stronger for it.
   

When we got back to our apartment, I realized that I was feeling something akin to desertion. I felt like my mom had abandoned me here. Some part of me hoped against hope that she would pull out an extra plane ticket at the last minute, and bring me home. That irrational bit was screaming at my brain, saying over and over again “Why didn’t she bring me home? Why did she leave me?” I kept having to remind myself that I wanted this, but then again, I didn’t really know what my stay in China would entail.
   

I always considered myself a pretty independent kid, but this moment revealed to me that I was still a child who wants their mother.
   

“Are you alright?” said my grandma, struggling to get out the foreign words. I sighed and wrapped my arms tightly around her, seeking solace in the warmth of her hug.