I’m not too good at farewells

2 days ago, Geri left for the States, to be with her husband at last. The weeks of packing and anticipation finally culminated into the hard truth – that it could possibly be one of the last few times that I saw her, if not the last.

As I hugged her, briefly, I felt excitement for her, yet also the deep sadness of seeing a friend off at the airport, and a certain anxiety, because in 3 weeks, I would be in her shoes. Saying goodbye to friends and family for such a long time, moving away from the country which I grew up in definitely isn’t going to be easy. While I have plenty to gripe about the Lion City, it still is home. And being so close to my friends and family (immediate & extended), it is even harder. Before this week, the idea that I would be moving across 7 seas to settle in a continent the other side of the world hadn’t really hit me. However, friday night at the airport poked me in the ribs, and reminded me that there are still so many things to be done before I fly.

Paperwork has mainly been quite a pain in the arse, with administrative help at the embassy not exactly first class. It has been a few weeks since I started trying to attain all the necessary documents and sorting the procedures out; and I have already gotten a taste of how different the systems between Singapore and Argentina are. It can be frustrating and amusing all at once, and after complaining I usually end up laughing.

Administrative matters aside, I still haven’t gotten down to packing; which I will leave till after I finish with work in 2 weeks. Till then, I have been trying to spend as much time with the family and friends as possible, and yet, I find myself really inadept at being nice to those I love the most, namely my parents and my siblings. Sometimes, I don’t know how to console them that I am leaving; because I know they are trying not to be sad; sometimes I am patient and nice, other times I am stressed, tense and rude.

I wish there was a way to tell them I will miss them so much too, and that I really appreciate them allowing me to chase my dream, and to be with the one I love. I wish I could take them all with me, but I know I can’t have the best of all the worlds. That would be asking for too much. I wish they knew though, how important they are to me, although I’m just really unable to express that in words. I don’t really know how to react when I see the tears well up inside my mum’s eyes; we never had that sort of relationship where I could just reach over hug her and assure her things will be alright. Instead, my reaction made her feel bad for feeling sad, but that’s not what I intended. I know her heart is torn as a mother, to see her eldest daughter going so far away, maybe it even feels like the moon for her. I wish she understood my intentions at that point. I don’t want to make her sad, but I don’t know how I could possibly ask her to be happy for me that I am leaving – that is too selfish. Yet I also don’t know how to show her I appreciate her little bits of advice; I wish she would sound stronger and more confident; I want to be appreciative, but somehow maybe I don’t seem so.

There are many emotions that I feel daily, sadness, worry, anticipation, happiness, excitement, uncertainty. A brand new phase and a completely new chapter. I want to go there light-hearted and worry-free, knowing my family will be in good health and happy.

God please take care of them as only you can.

To those I love, have always loved and always will.

Seems that I get irritated easily with some people around me nowadays – and the worst thing remains that these are people that I care about and love very much. We’re meanest to those we love the most – does this have to hold so true?

One of these people – I used to love and enjoy her company very much, each time I saw her I would want to make time to spend a day shopping or even just talking about the most mundane of things; yet nowadays, I hear her voice and I want to close my door, I see her things and I feel that they’re all over the place, I just no longer want to listen, eyes glued to her face. I try to minimize contact, I tune out to her advice or just words she speaks, and I when she’s there I just move away, but when she’s not there, I wish I wanted to spend time with her.

Deep inside, there are many things that seem to have changed; circumstances in the last half a year evolved, and sometimes familiarity breeds content, and sometimes, I wish we could go back to the time when I would call her, hoping to catch on a free day for dinner, for shopping (even if it was at a simple shopping mall) or just anything. I want to want to enjoy her company; not only say hi and then good night. It’s hard to see how what we used to have seem so little in the present. Sometimes it pains me just knowing that we don’t have that special connection anymore; sometimes I wished I could show her how much I love her.

Recently, conversations tend to revolve around a personal issue in my life – and hearing them talk, I understand there is a myriad of emotions going through their minds. There seems to be so much to say, yet when said, the words comes out like muddled threads of a spider’s web, wrong from the very start, and then emotions get hurt, the said which should have remained unsaid. It’s like a strong desire and yearning for them to read my heart bare, to know that while it’s important to me, they are too, and have never lost nor would ever lose the place of importance in the barrels of my soul. There is a huge aching longing for communication, conversation, but two-way, not just one. I need them to feel how much I could bring them along with me as well, and not that I was going to forget them, moving elsewhere they weren’t going to be.

Sometimes there are so many things I cannot translate into spoken words without somehow getting the meaning lost in translation; it makes me wince knowing i’ve said something that hurt them, not because I wanted that ultimately, but because I was screaming out for them to notice what they did not seem to be able to see.

I’m so sorry.

A magical wedding affair

December is a month of weddings, interesting weddings, boring weddings, elaborate ones, simple ones, but mostly, happy weddings.

I kick-started the last month of this incredible year by attending one best I have ever been invited to, and a week later, I am still smiling with joy because it was one mixed with emotions, spilt cocktails over breaded crumbs but laced with the tightness and close bonds of a family strong and there for each other.

Right from its birth and foundational planning, the wedding was designed to be unlike any other, meant to be small and informal, customized with the fabric of only those that truly mattered. In a destination away from the city hustle, where vows were made in a glass pavilion surrounded only by trees and villas for a romantic break, a selected few were chosen and given the honor to witness the sealing of a marriage between two dearly loved and who deeply loved each other. Yet it was not just the fact that it was wedding vows that brought on the tears, but the very tangible pronouncement from the bride’s father that he would agree to give his daughter away to her husband, the huge silent sigh of relief after weeks of invisible tension, the quiet hush that fell on all in the room, broken only by a baby’s cry, that sent the diamonds of tears slowly down many cheeks on that late Saturday afternoon. The honor to have been asked to be one of the four bridesmaids and to take part in the event of their lives, the planning and preparation together with the wedding couple up till the morning of the wedding itself, every minute detail carved its way to create a wedding that was imperfectly perfect.

There was no presence of the huge daunting crowds that usually come together with the traditional Chinese wedding, no loud unrecognizable relatives that make a fool of themselves singing karaoke at the top of their voices, snatching the limelight from the bridal couple. There were no round tables which required people to shout at the top of their voices to be heard over the wedding band, and in the soft lighting decorated by delicately chosen flower ensembles, the dessert corner which replaced the huge wedding cake you can usually find in grand events gave the occasion a charmingly cozy and casual feel. With an open kitchen next to the tables, guests could see as the entrees, appetizers and main courses were prepared, and it felt like we took part in the wedding as much as we observed it.

That was the magic of that day. That we were not only presented the final product, but it was special and we felt connected because we had been given and trusted with coming up with the outcome together. As cousins, aunties and siblings all combined to create the event’s success, we felt proud, not just of ourselves, but of the family bonds that kept us close-knit and able to make it beautiful for the wedding couple.

No reservations

Watching her cry, I feel the weight of her family on her shoulders. A daughter’s anguish from watching her mother’s pain, manifested in a body connected to countless tubes in the Intensive Care Unit.

“Love one another,” she says, because you never know when they will not be there anymore. It is true, so true, and in a flashback of what happened two years ago, I remember so vividly the fear of not being able to say the things we have always felt but kept in our hearts, the traumatic thoughts of not having the chance to see those you love before they fall into unconsciousness, the fact the they do not have the knowledge that you love them so. Suddenly, the importance of work crumbles in the face of such adversity, worries about other people’s impressions and a façade to upkeep seem ridiculously silly, and all you hope for is to be able to hold their hands and tell them you love them.

Each week passes by, an oblivious rollercoaster ride of deadlines that fade into nothingness. Some days you look back at the past few months and wonder what happened during that period of time; the days seemed to have started and ended without any meaningful memories created in between. We spend hours hunched at our desk in the office, worrying about the wording of an email, which may not even be looked at for more than 10 seconds, and we stress over the promotion that might skip us by. Home becomes just a place for bed and breakfast and we don’t even realize how much has changed in the life of our loved ones. We count the pennies but miss the big bucks; we fight many wars and win them, but we lose the battle. Myopia seems to have overtaken many of us, literally and metaphorically, and short-sightedness has led to many forgetting the most important bigger picture of life, the things that matter more than those that don’t.

A conversation at the Cheesecake café with a great friend of mine kept me thinking, a thread of thoughts started not only recently. Decisions we make on a daily basis, based out of fear? Or boldness to try something new, just because we desire to? A year off work seems like a huge decision to make, just to pursue a dream, or longing, when that is the same amount of time since the start of my working life. Yet experience for me enlarges the spectrum of my understanding, makes me rooted but gives me the power to believe, and shorter-term gains diminish in light of these. Encouragement from friends who have always chased their dreams, persistent in their beliefs as well as mine, that makes me feel so much lighter.

It’s like that with so many things. Planning is great, it helps you have an idea of where you want to go; but the magic is in the boldness, of creation of doing, and of trying even if you don’t know if you might succeed. Baby steps make the journey, and building a foundation in our relationships doesn’t take place overnight on occasional birthday parties; the pretty card in the mail once every half a year doesn’t suffice if you want to be a part of their lives as much as they are a part of yours. I realize that making the effort consistently, not only when you feel like it, nor only when things crop up, is what builds the unshakable base which holds us even as we shake.

Tell them you love them, say it as often as you feel the need and want to, do it unabashedly, boldly, without reservation. Get up and do things you want to do, now, not tomorrow, not next year. Don’t hesitate anymore. In Nike’s famous household slogan – Just do it.

The crinkle of their eyes

Today was special; unlike the past months of hectic saturdays, I came home after Spanish class, my grandparents already at my house. i love them. We spoke about alot of things; but above all, it was the crinkle of their eyes as we chatted, laughed and implored; that is what I love the most.

I write as I am

It’s suffice to say my years on earth has earned me the right to say that I’ve seen a fair share of personalities, people, circumstances, and experienced a relatively substantial amount of emotions, feelings and passions that have shaped my being as it is now. In thought, in presence, in creation.

A little earlier perhaps, I might be more brash and brazen in my harshness in advocating feelings and opinionated bursts of speech. A little younger and you might be presented with a girl overly engaged in her cotton candy wispsy dreams, thinking her actions could change the world when all she did was sit by her window watching the clouds form lollipop swirls, imagining, with an earnest zest so sincere yet not enough to leave the footprint she yearned for.

A little later, and yes there will be more memories and experiences embedded within the core of my being. You might see a woman with a smile patented by unique laughter lines, a little older and wiser from thinking much more, a little more mature. Life, family and friends and love, still the essence of her soul.

Yet it is now, today, not yesterday nor tomorrow as whom I write right now, a woman emerging from her shell, contemplating her transition from one beautiful phase to another holding much more promises and hinting of destiny. After a dry spell in which I created nothing to share, I had to look beyond just me, and stare further, squinting till I see the sunrise in the horizon. No more the waves so near that hold me down with terror; nor the tiny ripples that barely seem to portray any cause. Lately I felt God speaking to me once more, no reprimands, no brutal scoldings, just pure embrace of affirmation that I had missed for too long a time. He spoke only once, but so clearly: GRATITUDE.

So many things I had taken for granted, people who I loved dearly and gave up so much for me so willingly; the ability to move forth and dare to grasp what never would have seemed possible just a little while ago; my circumstances; my family, my friends, my gifts and talents, my heart for people. I look around and everything my eyes lay upon I hear these words “Count your blessings”. Every year of my life I take a lesson away; the last one year, I was blessed to take away more than one.

I learnt how much my family loves me. The importance of family struck a chord in the strings of my heart, and enfolding every moment I saw the trust, the belief, the unconditional love, the unspoken words that I had been searching for for a large part of my teenage life. It took a unmeasurable amount of time to realise it, but my smile, my joy and my boldness to freefall was built upon the thick solid foundation that my family would hold me and break my fall. I know that because I have seen first hand the bond that binds us like a nest interwoven through years of patience and forgiveness. Love that I thought I had to earn was freely bestowed upon me when I need it the most, understanding and a freer flow of communication followed easily. An injustice I had harboured for many years dissolving through tears of fear that were later replaced by reassurances of confidence and warmth.

I learnt the importance of mutual respect; how to hold another person, especially someone you love, with the fabric called trust laced with the glue of basic admiration and belief that the other would do his or her best for the good of you. The cruciality of appreciation and the show of it; is the starch that gives dao suan its viscousity, the bonds between water molecules that lead up to the phenomenon called surface tension and the netting which guarantees to catch a gymnast walking on tight rope. Without this human glue, no relationship can last, or withstand the tests of time or distance. Each human has a need for respect and trust, and without either, there’s very little rock to stand on.

I learnt the importance of “Carpe Diem“. Seizing the day and making the most of the moment, since as all the wise sages say, time is short and once passed is never to return again.  Passion never stood out more for me than now; and it is also now that I understand how each day I choose to smile or cry, laugh or sigh cannot be reversed, and if so, why be sad? The only way to fight time is to be as happy as you can. No day’s worth is insignificant enough to say I’ll do it tomorrow. Now if I want to write a postcard, I write it, if I want to call and say Hello, How are you? I pick up the receiver; no longer concerned about the abruptness of the urge to wish, nor about the surprised response of the receiver.

All these lessons, I cradle in the core of my heart; my memories impounding with these principles each time they are invoked. In the future there will be more I am sure, lessons for life and all the better shared. Now I write as I am, grateful, for all that has shaped me and allowed me to be the way I am. GRATITUDE, as He reminded me, is the cornerstone of contentment. And so God, once again I lift all surrounding me into your hands, for You to take care of them as only You can. Muchas gracias.

The men in my family

Our lives are shaped by those we grow up with, listen to and love. Particularly so, they say the men in your life are those who carve your values, your outlook of life, and the way you express yourself.

The men in my family are all people who I love with all my life; and although I hardly tell people this, I love them, much too dearly.

My grandfather, Yeye, whose comeback after a terrible scare from a fall late last year is epitome of strength and determination. Although at times domineering, I look at him and am so darn proud of him. For pulling through, still smiling, still looking so radiant, still so unafraid to fully live life every single day, and he is my inspiration. Before the operation, I told myself there would always be other times that I could spend with him, I could always do it tomorrow, today was just too busy. But now, when I go out with him and Nai Nai, in Orchard road, I am unafraid and unashamed to be seen walking hand in hand with him as we cross the road, we sit and talk easily, not like before, and when I see him smile and laugh, I constantly thank God for His miracle in Yeye’s life. I am blessed to be able to enjoy more years with Yeye, and to learn and listen from him, his zest for knowledge and his never ending thirst to be aware and experience.

 My father, is also similar to Yeye. Only with Daddy I havent actually dared to tell him I love him. I grew up living in the shadow of his expectations; he expects alot out of me because he expects alot out of himself, and his upbringing thought him never to take the pleasures in life for granted. Sometimes I wish I could communicate better with him, that we can just hang out and talk about life without ending up in quarrels, but no matter what I always know that he does what he does because he cares for me, just sometimes he cares too much and interferes too much. My father is always protective of me, his fierce demeanor more of a shield for his worry about my being hurt then a weapon to take away my happiness. And for that I am thankful; that beneath it all its his love that I carry away with me, in my heart. Because of him, I learn to be practical, to fight for what I want, and to push myself further. But also because of him, I realise I have to be happy with who I am, and not be encased in what someone else wants for me. I love him too much too, but sometimes we can be meanest to those we love the most, and I really want that to reverse.

My Brother, son of my grandfather’s son. A young but wise soul; someone I really enjoy conversations with. His deep insights and interesting views on life sometimes shock me, because for his age he is matured and more than meets the eye. I am terribly proud of him, for his love for people and those around, and for his compassion that I see when he argues for a cause. Both him and I have the same passion for writing and pouring the ink of our souls onto canvases, papers, the computer. We delight in many similar aspects, art, reading, writing, travelling, reminiscing. I am so honoured to be his sister.

Shawn, my dearest and closest cousin. Not literally, because he is down under in Australia, sometimes I think too far for me to call him out for a drink and to chill, but with him i am able to share many thoughts, many emotions, without feeling judged. He gives me strength through his encouragements, his quirky thoughts, and his crazy behavior. I miss him already.

There you have it, the men in my family. I would say we are all made up of lines that trace the path of our lives, these lines formed because of the people we know, and for me, especially the men in my family. Im so glad that they’re in my life. So, so glad.

These words are my diary screaming out loud

Too many thoughts running through my mind;

family;
friends;
decisions;
work;
love;
faith;
steadfastness.

Running through my mind, running through my mind.

Ties that bind

Family is so important, and during this period, I realise how much more important it is than ever before. This is Yeye; I love him so much.

您的决心是我的启发, 您教了我从未放弃, 因此您应该继续启发我。

”

 

Mein Opa

Yeye.

Epitome of strong will and determination, hard work and intelligence. Force behind the Lim family and an iron hand. Yet he sets such a strong example of being ever-ready to learn, innovative and simply unwilling to let destiny have free rein over him.

Yet Yeye is still human, and as his joints start giving in to age, and phsical boundaries which have been pushed are now maxed to the limit, I see a different side of him. A side where he keeps on walking despite the pain, because he is afraid of staying at home enclosed by four walls. A side where he wakes up at five am each morning to read English books so his mind will remain active. A side of him that is fragile and afraid. And that makes me afraid.

Ich liebe mein opa, although i hardly declare it, much less to him. I want to be there back in Singapore to walk with him in Vivo City, travel with him to Johor Bahru, bring him to Germany, his namesake. I want to walk the endless miles that he has walked, hand in hand with him, but different continents separate us and I can only call him and ask him questions in my limited mandarin which revolve around daily trivia. I want to hear all about his stories from the war times, of his youth, of his travels and his views. I want to do all these, just like I have wanted to each year as I grew up, but somehow something else just found its way to take up my time, and I forget, and brush it aside, thinking that I will have endless oppotunities to do so.

I prayed very hard today, until the tears came, because I was afraid, what of I dont even wish to say. But I know my Heavenly Father is in control, and I know he will be there to hold mein Opa, to be with him in this time and give him peace that will let him be happy. I wonder if Yeye is truly happy? Has he ever been? I want to ask so many people this question, I want to know their answers to it. But I know the only person I can trust right now is God, the almighty God who created all and hence can be the only one in control.

Dear God, I lift Yeye into your hands, I trust you to take care of someome that I love so much, because I know you love me so much. I pray for your strength and peace to be upon Yeye, for you to always be by his side as you have promised us. I pray for your hands of protection to be upon him whereever he goes, in whatever he does, and for you to restore his health. You created the heavens and the earth, you are the alpha and omega, and you will be the one right at the start and at the end. You are our comfort; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort us. Dear God, you know our hearts’ desires, you know our prayers, your know the love our family has for Yeye. As we lift our Grandpa into your hands, I pray dear god, you take good care of him like none of us can, and that he may know that You are with him. We love Yeye, but we know that You love him the most, and therefore we lift his health and safety to You and You alone. Amen.