On one of our weekend visits.
From a phone message conversation with the brother:
L: Yeah! No point watering the negative seeds within ourselves
J: Yup! No point feeding the lesser wolf in us
L: Hahahaha so many ways to put it
I thought it’s lion?
J: wolf la
Final verdict: Ok it’s wolf. Haha.
It’s nice to have family to water the positive seeds in me. Miss you, bro!
It was so easy to adapt to life here last year, I think mainly because I had little or no expectations of anything.
Then I had some trouble adapting to life back on the sunny island, but not too much, and I really grew to appreciate the concept and feeling of Home, more than ever.
Now, I feel some resistance in adapting to life here again. I think it’s because I had some expectations coming back, and they weren’t met (as detailed in previous post).
Is this homesickness? I think so!
Some quality and quiet time with the brother 🙂
A last minute cancellation of plans suddenly left my day quite free. Since Dad was free, we went down for a walk along the waterway. Just us and the peaceful, tranquil early morning.
In a recent Skype conversation, Dad was telling me about the unknown amount of dust he uncovered around the house as he embarked on spring cleaning.
“I didn’t know there’s so much dust! It’s like the more I clean, the most dust I find! And I can’t stop until I’ve cleaned it all!”
After a pause:
“It’s just like our minds … We never know how much dust we have in our thoughts until we start attempting to clean and control them.”
“Mm hmm.” I nodded in agreement, amused that an activity like spring cleaning can be used as an analogy for control of the thoughts in our mind, and glad for the timely reminder.
An emotionally deep novel about a Chinese family and heritage, based on Amy Tan’s personal stories and experience. It’s even been made into an opera
After reading this, I couldn’t help but wonder how much of our stories are fading with the demise of our older generation.
I ask myself how much of my grandmother’s life do I know.
The answer, sadly, is not much.
I wonder why. Why have we never thought to ask? Why hasn’t anyone in the family talked about it? Why hasn’t anyone thought the remember so that we can pass on her stories to our own children and nieces and nephews one day?
My maternal grandparents and paternal grandfather are already deceased. Only our paternal grandmother is left, and suddenly I am curious to know what her life was like as a little girl, growing up in war to post-war times. Would she want to talk? Would she talk only in dialect such that I won’t be able to answer her confidently? Would she talk, then tell my aunts and uncles that I’ve become “weird”, suddenly asking her such questions?
I do hope that I will have the courage to try. Maybe the brother might be interested to make a short film project out of it too ;p