Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Piano
I don't even remember the last time I had a chance to enjoy your company. And if I were to be perfectly honest, oft times, I forgot how lovely it was, and how me and you could just go on forever, forgetting everything and everyone around us. It was a dark corner, I sat down and played. Achingly familiar. Just me and you.
Damage, Or Rather, No Damage
After unpacking from my much-needed hiatus to the homeland, I realized that I purchased neither shoes nor handbags despite my frequent trips to the mall. I don't know if I should pride in my prudence, or be letdown by my lack of shopper's savvy.
It's nothing short of a miracle.
It's nothing short of a miracle.
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
Reunion
I have only one memory of him.
My father's older brother, kicked out of the house, for his drug habit, and the possibility of him taking my sister and I to the Thai border to sell as child prostitutes for some easy big money. He had already pawned off my parent's wedding rings, after breaking into their bedroom to steal them. My mother was unhappy, my father was torn, my father's mother was helpless. I was only a child, unaware of the tempest that was going on.
I remember that it was a sunny day. Perhaps, on that day he was secretly stealing into the house to visit ah-mah, or maybe he had not been kicked out yet. But I do remember that it was a sunny day. I was in my jammies on the floor next to the piano. He crouched down and gave me a smile. I giggled. "Smile again!" I say in Chinese. He obliged, and I giggled some more. "He doesn't have his two front lower teeth!" I whispered to my sister. And I giggled some more. "There's an English song that is just right for you to sing," I announced. He told me to sing it. And so I sang him All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth. And he clapped his hands and smiled at me. I always wondered if that memory was a figment of my imagination.
I was probably about 4 years old then. We found him again when I was 22. I just met him a week ago. My family picked him up for dinner. He entered the car. I glanced anxiously at him. He was missing two front lower teeth.
My father's older brother, kicked out of the house, for his drug habit, and the possibility of him taking my sister and I to the Thai border to sell as child prostitutes for some easy big money. He had already pawned off my parent's wedding rings, after breaking into their bedroom to steal them. My mother was unhappy, my father was torn, my father's mother was helpless. I was only a child, unaware of the tempest that was going on.
I remember that it was a sunny day. Perhaps, on that day he was secretly stealing into the house to visit ah-mah, or maybe he had not been kicked out yet. But I do remember that it was a sunny day. I was in my jammies on the floor next to the piano. He crouched down and gave me a smile. I giggled. "Smile again!" I say in Chinese. He obliged, and I giggled some more. "He doesn't have his two front lower teeth!" I whispered to my sister. And I giggled some more. "There's an English song that is just right for you to sing," I announced. He told me to sing it. And so I sang him All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth. And he clapped his hands and smiled at me. I always wondered if that memory was a figment of my imagination.
I was probably about 4 years old then. We found him again when I was 22. I just met him a week ago. My family picked him up for dinner. He entered the car. I glanced anxiously at him. He was missing two front lower teeth.
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