I used to work as an interior designer, focusing on creating spaces that truly made people feel at ease. Whether selecting soft furnishings, warm color palettes, or planning functional room layouts, I always prioritized small details—all to turn a house into a "home:" a place where people could shed their stress the moment they walked in. Yet the irony was hard to miss: I spent my days building peaceful havens for others, but the fast-paced, high-pressure work left me with little time to slow down, or to be present with my own family. Then one day, I watched my father tend to his fish tank slowly. He wiped the glass with a soft cloth, as if afraid of startling the gliding fish inside, humming an old tune under his breath, his eyes fixed on the fish with calm and contentment. In that moment, it hit me: these fish were more than just pets—they were quiet, warm companions that eased the loneliness of his golden years.
