a Journey

In a single weekend, a family tradition which has always been practiced since, I can remember really, evaporated into nothingness. Maybe it was just the final stage of the whole process since A.J died. After she died, Hari Raya was never quite the same. I’ve never admitted it to anyone before, but I still miss her. I can’t and don’t talk about her, like remember her, the person that she was to me and all of us, the way I still miss her cooking and going over to her place to chill out after school. I can’t say out loud the way I miss going out with her. I am scared of crying because I’m so afraid I won’t ever stop. I’ve never cried so hard since the day she died and I haven’t since. I still remember running to her when I fell down and she made me realize it really was okay to fall – she taught me to laugh at myself, and not blame the other cousins. She could laugh in the face of everything, including cancer. She was the one person I know, who died with a smile on her face. Or maybe I was just imagining it all. All I know is this:  we lost a part of ourselves that day. All of us did.

This Hari Raya, we didn’t celebrate it with them. I guess, work caught up with everyone, and they just wanted to rest instead of clean up after the open house. Maybe we were all really tired. And somehow, the open house, just took second place. Maybe, the final nail has finally been driven into A.J’s coffin. I think Death is not a single event; it’s a process that continues even after the final kiss has been given.

Just like the boys I knew from childhood are no longer the men I see today. I don’t know if we really know each other anymore. I guess we don’t really. A year ago, we danced on cheap champagne, believing in a future together, “forever and ever, love!” But as Christmas approaches, I don’t know who I’ll be dancing with this year. The colors that they painted my life with will always remain: red for the craziness, a blur of yellow lights as we flew down slopes with the wind hard blowing against our faces we had to shut our eyes, black silence for the night which always brought a peace with it as we sat anywhere, really, to breathe and stone… but, a lot of things, we have changed.

Now, she’s going too. As a girl, I ran home to her, because I missed the strength that could be found in her embrace. The alaga who enjoyed special treatment … dealing with this is not an option because she deserves better. But it’s 22 years I am saying goodbye to.

So what do you do when your world changes? How do you breathe properly without a dull ache in your throat that chokes and constricts?

Thank you for picking me up during a dreary grey day, when nothing I said seemed to be right. I wasn't the most intelligent of them all on that rainy Monday, but you brought a wee bit of sunshine when you let me indulge my whim. And things just got better despite the traffic jam and the fact that we almost had to do some manual labour when the fuel tank ran low...
 Thank you for bringing me to your hideaway durian stash. Yes, it does taste better than the ones at Geylang. And way cheaper too. :)
And the claypot rice. Yes, it's the first time I ever had such an authentic one - and those crispy rice bits are addictive. Car-ci-no-gens, never heard of them. Not to mention the succulent, juicy chicken parts which were so tender and flavourful. Thanks for eating it with me, although I know it was dinner no. 2 after your beef kway teow.
Not forgetting the Coco Ice. Chocolate powder, the real thing, not Milo... on shaved ice.

Mister K, you're the best friend anyone can ask for on a blue Monday.
(p.s. The blue curacao makes a pretty picture)

Shifu said: "Don't forget to treasure your family."
It was a good thing he said it, because I just might have excused myself mid-way through the monthly family dinner tonight. I was torn between the dinner, the girls, and the bitches. In the end, I chose. Family. And I'm glad I did.

It's easy for us to overlook the ones who're constantly at home when we return, because they are always there. No matter what fast one we pull, or how infuriating we may get -- when the shouting matches are done and over with, we know that we'll usually get our way.

And, for all the "No" we hear, I think it hurts them more to reject us than to give in to us. And yet, they do so because, they're family.

They would give us the moon and the stars if they could. Anything within their means, would be given. They don't do it because they want to spoil us -- although that usually is the end result. They do it because they love us. Because they want to make us happy. Because they want to give us what they deem is best for us.

Mummy, Happy Birthday! :)

I told Greg I ordered apple pie at this french pub, together with the wine we (scratchynails, fen & I) had.
Me: Ooh, the place was lovely. And I ordered apple pie! *grins*
Greg: Apple pie?! That's so American. It's like me going to America and ordering fried rice.

At Cartel with Naidu.
Me: I feel like settling down, y'know. I want some sort of routine with someone.
Naidu: Are you having your period?!

Whilst exploring Ann Siang Hill for a chill-out spot.
Scratchynails: Why the hell didn't they level the ground?
Me: You said you wanted to walk dinner off.
S: But I didn't ask for a cross-country workout.
Fen: It's called Ann Siang Hill. They're not allowed to level a hill in Singapore.

To Fir:: you're the bestest god-bro anyone could ask for!:: Thank you for the amazing surprise. :) Just seeing you when I was under the impression that you were stuck on waitlist back in Aussie... haha, sorry if the 'rugby tackle' hurt; but it was really good seeing you again. And Fay! You knew all along! Both of you rawk my heart! :)

And Greg, I'll love the present, regardless. Don't sweat it. :)

The finale to the 21st birthday cumulated at S.S.C... and honestly, I wish that they hadn't opened all the bottles that they did. I think I've drunk all that I ever want to for the next five years; no more. I had the mother of all hang overs today... and to look at it positively, I shall just say that it's a good catalyst for me to be more proactive of my health.