every farewell, a new beginning.

I've just returned from the Footprinters' farewell dinner at Darren's house. It was a simple affair, no fuss and nothing really "emotionally heavy" took place. But as I recall my entire day, it seems that as if the divine beings (up above) has something to tell me.

So perhaps I should rewind the narration to the start of my day's programme when I brought my grandma to visit my grandpa. For the uninitiated, my grandpa's been residing in a home in Pasir Ris because of his slight dementia and inability to control his bowels. My grandma on the other hand, decides to move out to live alone at Toa Payoh. And her justifications - she isn't contributing in the household and is afraid that she'll be the cause of intra family tension. And it seems that I'll never be able to accept her "ramifications" as rightful justifications... maybe until I live until as old as her. If i do.

Anyway, bringing my grandma from Toa Payoh to Pasir Ris even by cab, is by no means a simple affair. I've to buy my grandpa's favourite hainanese chicken rice (duhh... it originated from us people) and a can of sarsi - now you know not only young kiddos have that occasional cravings. Then my sister and I have to cautiously help her to the main road and into a cab, while watching she does not hit her head while entering the cab. When we finally arrive at the home, we will be in the guest room awaiting the missy to push our grandpa in on a wheelchair. Watching him savour the mouthfuls of his favourite cuisine while seeing my grandma hold his wrinkled and weathered hands with her conspicuous teary eyes, it's more often than not heart wrenching. But staging this reunion (albeit short lived) is more than worth the effort.

Imagine a couple married for close to 70 years with 5 children and 8 grandchildren. Imagine the hardships they have went through when they lugged their baggage and were chucked in a dinghy from China to Singapore, like those in 雾锁南洋. Imagine the times of draconian oppression during occupation, like in 和平的代价. Okay.. that's enough, i think it's drama overkill now.

And then I walked around the home, looking at the elderly folks all around. They were mostly watching the television, fiddling with toy blocks or just gazing endlessly and aimlessly. And my heart really goes out to them because sometimes when old age diseases strike, what choice do they have but to age idly (gracefully). It's as if when we age, our bodily functions deteriorate and our energy level dwindles; we can do nothing but to just wait for the life invigilator to utter, "Time's Up". If that's aging for me, I'd rather opt to hand in my scripts when I'm well and happy with what I've done in the examination of life.

Just some time back, I was watching a youtube video of this older friend of mine speaking to his group of volunteers before they went to Philippines for ocip, a prep talk kind. And what he said left a deep inkling in my mind since then.

"Let time be your witness. Do you want time to wash away your history or let history attest for your time?"

Life's too short for us to just while it away. Likewise, we've got to make hay while the shines bright and warm. In about a week to go, my good ol' primary school buddy will fly all the way Down Under to further his studies. And I'm sure he will do himself, his family and friends, proud over there. This farewell for him will represent a new beginning - an exciting chapter in his life where he'll blaze new trails ahead. Myself, I'll be flying to India for my virgin youth conference cum exchange. What lies ahead I have little idea. But I guess that's immaterial compared to what lies inside myself - my ideals and ambitions although tinged with unbridled rashness at times (as described in my previous entry).

Most importantly, I have made a pact with history so that when the inevitable "Time's Up" is uttered, my alibi will be there by my side, testifying in my favour.

Have you?



Beyond - 海阔天空