People say you will always remember exactly what you were doing when something momentous happens.
I remember the me 11 years ago - wearing my green pinafore over a white shirt, with a dark green ribbon dangling from my collars - skipping home happily from school one day, only to drop my bag and rush straight into my ah ma's room, when I heard the words that came out from my aunt's mouth. Everything was in a blur after that. I will never forget that that was the first time I ever saw my father cry.
I remember the me 2 years ago, with my head buried in a keyboard in the Music Tech room, furiously trying to compose three songs in three days. I remember the call. The toilet. The tears that wouldn't stop filling my eyes. I have never felt every bit of the distance that separated me from home sting so much before. I remember a dear friend of mine telling me that there's a riff in "sunshine in the rain" that sounds sad. I said, it's supposed to be a happy song. Then I realized that sometimes, you really can't disguise your feelings.
And the me this year, a year about to draw to an end. On mothers' day. Of all days. I was on skype in my room, and dajie was the one who broke the news to me that wai po had passed away. All I wanted to do was to fly back home immediately. All I wanted to do was to absorb all my mama's sadness. I know they always say that whoever leaves wouldn't want to see you sad. I tell people that too, and I knew that I should be trying my best to be happy instead. But there and then, I just felt that crying was the least I could do for wai po. It appeared to be the only way for me to tell her that I miss her so much.
For the past four years, I have been spending Chinese new year away from home. It is my favourite festive season; goodies aside, I relish the atmosphere of how everybody in my extended family gathers to celebrate a good year spent, and to welcome the start of a brand new year - together. Just when I'm finally back for good, Chinese new year seems to have left me for a faraway land.
I can't explain this sudden sadness and longing to see my grandparents again. Perhaps it was hearing my papa talk about insurance plans. Or maybe it was the RM50 note that I kept in my drawer; the note which I believe has wai po's touch and refused to use. Or more simply, these wandering thoughts are a mere consequence of being too bored. On some days more than others, I really just wish there were more I can do for the people who matter to me.
