The circle's payback

I have been through a rough patch lately, and I can’t say I am totally grateful for it, but at least it helped me realize what is dearest to me, and what, when everything else is stripped of its rosy tint and superficial ethereality, really remains.

Too busy chasing after inconstancies and abstract ideals; I have neglected the one thing that had sustained me all this while, something that I have been trying stubbornly to shut it out from my world. Friends come and go. Some walk alongside you for a little while before embarking on a different path, some stick around a little longer, taking the same turns, making the same imprints, but eventually, some other part of life will beckon, and paths will be diverged.

So it is that friends are not constants, and they should not be taken for granted to be so. Life becomes much easier really, when you see the people around you as temporary faces, faces with potential to change your life, support you when you fall, share laughter and tears with you, and leave their own distinct set of imprints on memory’s lane. Thank them, gently, for the times they made life wonderful and move on. Life should not be a desperate clinging on to things that no longer are, but an enjoyment of things that at this point, at this very moment, gives tangible joy.

Yet there is one constancy – family.

Family is the one thing I don’t have to worry about losing. There’s no such thing as drifting apart, or losing contact, or even having to find words to fill the silences that would be awkward in friendship. Somehow, I know I would always be able to pick up where I left off; somehow, I know you guys will always be there, eager to hear me tell the same stories over and over and over again.

No matter how I have turned my back against you.

Thank you dad, for the countless times you had to turn down the volume during ‘Superstar’, I know television is your only form of entertainment in the evening, and I am sorry you had to sacrifice a bit of that for your audio-sensitive daughter. Thanks also, for choosing to ignore my snide remarks throughout this whole troublesome period, and I am really grateful to you for being understanding enough to not start an argument about my less-than-polite attitude. I will remember to greet you next time when you come home I promise! You don’t have to tap on my shoulder, and say ‘Ei, I am home’ anymore. Thank you also, for the long discussions over the latest news and events, though we might not agree all the time, but at least you respect me enough to value my opinions, and I really appreciate that. (It would help my GP loads too!) And really, I do notice when you take the effort to be extra nice and funny, just that my stubborn pride would not permit anything beyond the usual ‘lame.’ I am sorry for being such a wet blanket and all, though right now I still can’t figure how you can run from Bishan to Woodlands and still complain about a short walk from our house to junction 8! But besides that little glitch, you are cool, really. I will always remember the time you tried to do a handstand on the mattress, ok, so you didn’t really go beyond 90degrees, but hey, it’s a good try for someone who already hit 50. In fact, I can’t think of anybody else’s dad who would dare attempt this age-defying feat!

And mom, I know I have been a really good example of ‘that troublesome adolescent period’ all mothers have nightmares about. Its not that I don’t treat you like a friend anymore, it’s just that there are times when I don’t really feel like talking about it. I am sorry about the times I hurt you by brushing you aside when you showed concern, and honestly, your concern did make a very big difference, just that I was wont to show it, being a prisoner of my own world. Thank you for the ready way you took me back into your embrace despite everything. I know how I had scoffed when you kissed my forehead and called me your girl, and the times I had looked daggers at you when you ventured into the touchy topic of ‘mugging’. I was behaving like a totally deranged idiot I know, whose only seeming purpose in life was to devour the next set of notes, the next textbook. Thank you for the quiet pride you had in me, undeserved though it may be, and the way you justified my behaviour to others by calmly saying ‘girl is studying’. It gave my life purpose, and carried me through many late nights, when the music from your favourite Korean show soothed many bouts of panic and insecurities. Thank you for being always ready to reward me with good food and putting up with my curt ‘anything’ when asked to state what I wanted to eat, and the devastation that is the dining table after an entire day of mugging. Many times I have raised eyebrows at your ‘childish’ attempts to cheer me up, and I know now that it was I who was being immature, and that my cynicism was a mere cover-up, a farce I think you saw through.


And Gui Feng you nosey parker, (I refuse to call you Jeff Denver!), irregardless of how I have been complaining about you to practically everybody since you were born, and how in many irritated moments, fervently wished for an older brother instead of a grinning, pesky little (or not so little) twerp like you, hell, you have been a total angel these few days. (mark the irony!) Thanks for the incessant stream of ‘zeh, you want to drink ice milo?’ at half an hour intervals, the ‘zeh, you want to drink mushroom soup?’ at two hour intervals and the ‘zeh, look! Spider on the wall!’ at four hour intervals. I am really glad that you (in your more sensible moments) and I can still talk about a lot of stuff, and you might not believe this, but you have grown up, and I do value your advice. (Now, don’t start getting big-headed or I will clobber you!) I am sorry for the times I have ousted you from your room because I needed to study in a nice and neat environment (which leaves my room out of the equation), and I will make up for it by helping you tune your guitar and not letting Dad know what you have been up to. (Don’t worry, he reads slowly, so by the time he gets this far, you would have already closed the window.)
I have forgotten how many times you made me laugh with your insanity, your john Denver ‘imitations’, your shameless exhibitionism, your smart aleck explanations (NO, water does not travel up a plant because the water ‘pull each other’, its called transpiration pull.), and basically by just being who you are. How many times have the tears I tried to choke back turn into laughter just by your utterance of a single word. Don’t ever change, (don’t grow taller!), you are just fine the way you are, though I will die before I tell that to your face.

Phew. It feels good letting all that out.

But really, I don’t know why I took so long to appreciate all that! To think that it took so much mugging and inner turmoil to get this simple fact into my head is really quite insulting to my intelligence. But to heck with intelligence, I have been too clever for my own good. The mind is a nuisance sometimes.

Thank you for letting me feel that I don’t have to be strong for anybody, and that it is, somehow, possible to turn back time, and go back to being that little girl I was always afraid to be.

I have come home, from the precipice.