Christmas past and present

I enjoy the Christmas lights, the festive mood, the sudden rush to see friends before the year closed, the exchange of presents, the outpouring of kindness in thoughts and deeds to everyone.

This time, for the first time in many years, I go back to two special people who are no longer around to make Christmas the cheery season that it is.

The grandmother in Bakersfield who baked her special rum soaked Christmas cakes for so many people. I remember especially her three young grandchildren ripping into the Christmas presents; the tinsel, ribbons and gift wraps quickly covering the floor.

And the man who always put up the best Christmas decorations and tree that he could for his grown children and young grandchildren even when they were not by his side for Christmas.

While I gather the family and friends for Christmas revelry, I am also thinking of loved ones who I shared Christmas with all those years ago.

And I am grateful to have them always, if only in my memory anymore.
 

One Hundred Days later

I cant be contented with yesterdays glory
I cant live on promises winter to spring
Today is my moment, now is my story
Ill laugh and Ill cry and Ill sing

Father closed his eyes for the last time in early September.

A hundred days on, and I still find myself struggling to come to grips with lies, deceit and betrayal in the circle of people I least expected - Father's favourite son, his wife, his siblings.

For a hundred days, several ugly scenes kept replaying in a loop in my mind. I listened to platitudes about forgiveness and understanding: I heard nothing even vaguely close to an admission of wrong-doing. 

For a hundred days, I searched my soul for an answer as to where and how to go from here.

I know now. 

I will never forget the fact that these people committed an act of extreme cruelty - they denied a dying man his last wish which was to go home. The son had larcenous intents, the wife was selfish and did not want to be inconvenienced with a dying husband, and the siblings were acting out long-held resentment against Father. 

Time will never soften the pain I felt when I realised too late that I was blind-sided by trickery and treachery. 

This much I know: if the opportunity ever comes that I can hurt this son, wife and siblings as much as they have hurt Father, I will have no hesitation to act upon it.

Until then, these people cease to exist any more for me.

I don't like the woman

I didn't like the woman way back when.

I didn't like the woman through the years.

So I haven't seen the woman for the last few years.

Two months ago, I heard she was diagnosed with advanced brain cancer, was being treated with chemotherapy and radiation, and was not expected to live beyond 15 months.

I felt badly for her. But I did nothing about trying to contact her - she lives and works out of the country, and comes back frequently on weekends.

She was back all last week, staying at a friend's home. Said friend called me to come over for dinner with the woman.

I told myself to be nice, hold my tongue, smile and nod in sympathy and agreement.

She is still ever the loud-mouthed shameless self-promoter I disliked from way back when. All night, I listened to the woman tell me how great a person she is - as a helpful friend, a hot lover, a doting mother, a filial daughter, a long-suffering wife (twice), an understanding ex-wife (twice), a dedicated employee, a pious person etc etc etc.

I held my tongue, I smiled and nodded in sympathy. I was nice.

At the end of the evening, I felt sad.

For her - because I'd like to think there are many people who really and truly like her, but I have serious doubts about that.

For myself - because I am probably seeing her for the last time. And I still do not like the woman.

Coffee with the Imp

Many years ago, we would see each other at the few smokey pokey pubs and clubs. So smokey that even the smokers had to step out for a breath of air; so pokey (no pun intended) that sharp elbow jabs stab into your rib cage all night long.We would exchange a smile and a wave, occasionally we managed a quick catchup over the din.

It was just that kind of a place so we had just that kind of a acquaintance.

At some point, I quit the scene. And I sort of followed her comings and goings through the grapevine.

Then I came to know about her blog, and quietly followed it for a while. Where I had once thought her intelligent, I now come to appreciate the breadth and depth of that intelligence, and her critical open mindedness about things she is not certain about.

At some point, we decided to meet up again because, well, it seemed like a good idea. We finally did.

I am happy she made the time to meet me. I see in her everything I already expected. And more, much more.

I see a beautiful, confident, caring and insightful young woman. Someone I am happy to have met and kept in touch with. I wish for her a life filled with meaningful endeavours. I know she will have that.

Even if I had first met her in some smokey pokey pub :)

Goodbye #2003

The storage unit measured 10x15 ft. Crates and boxes stayed stacked from floor to ceiling in #2003 for 10 years. I tried to clear and close down the facility a year ago, but there was just too many details that could not be worked out.

It would have been the same again this time, if not for the immeasurable amount of help extended to me by a very special couple.

With their generous help in the form of physical labour, local knowledge and unquestioning willingness to accommodate every request I asked of them, I finally and certainly put this 10 year burden behind me.

I ended up with a shipment of 5 small cartons containing a lifetime of bittersweet memories coming with me.

Everything else have found loving new homes and owners.

One of the most difficult items I had to leave behind is this piece of serious toy, made all the more difficult because I know I will never own another again.

It is now in the hands of a really good and responsible man, the only person I wanted to be its new owner.
And so, I start making and storing memories again. In another place. With another man.

Seattle-Singapore

The month long visit to North America finally comes to an end. I leave tomorrow morning 11am from Seattle (2am Friday SG time) for the long flight home.

I am always happy to be in the US.

The biggest event was I managed to finally clear out and close down the storage facility I had kept for the last 10 years. With the help of a very good friend, its contents are now suitably re-situated in ways that does justice to the happy memories they have given me.

I spent equal time in Bakersfield, Vancouver and Seattle. There are many things I love in each place, but if I ever lived again in this continent, I would still return to Bakersfield, and visit every place and every one from there.

More on my thoughts and feelings about this place when I am back...

Remembering old acquaintances

I am all set for the US and Canada.

I look forward to being in California again. And seeing the old friends. Maybe even manage an afternoon of mahjong with them, for old times' sake.

There are two people in the old hometown I will see again for the first time in 10 years. One is my former employer, who gave me my first job in the US. The other was the editor of our Chinese community newsletter; I was the feature writer of the newsletter for a full cycle of the Chinese horoscope (Rat year 1984 to Pig year 1995). Both women are special to me: if not for their wise counsel, I would never have grown into the person I am today.

There are many more people who have stepped into my life and made me a better person for having made their acquaintance. But I can only do so much each time, and I want to spend enough time with each one to make the reacquainting meaningful.

So, with a little more grace and patience, I will come around to seeing everybody who touched my heart and enriched my life, at least one more time...

He never knew me

It has been 10 years since I left the ex, left the US, left the life that holds some of my fondest memories of friends, occasions and places.

I have little communication with the ex. There is no point. He is a lovely man. It is just sad that I grew up, he and I grew apart, and eventually, I had to leave just so I could make sense of myself.

Every year, he sends me a Hallmark card of the "you are special to me" variety at Christmas time. Every year, I email him to thank him for the card. Every year, I dread this predictable short communication which always brings up hurt and pain which I suppress all year long.

This time, he asked a simple question in the card: Do you ever feel lonely?

With deep sadness for him, I wrote back: No, I don't ever feel lonely.

I did not elaborate because he could not possibly understand: I have never been lonely, I cannot understand the state of being lonely, I actually enjoy being by myself.

I am sad all over again for the way things turned out in the end for him and me; sad that he will never understand I left because he never knew me, never heard anything I said, never cared for the things that are important to me.

He will forever believe my leaving was an act of selfishness. And I will let him belabour that mistaken notion.

Because he never knew me, he never heard me, he never cared to know what is important to me.

All the tomorrows

I love our quiet evenings at home, just the two of us. Sharing a simple dinner in our kitchen, just the two of us.Prawn udon with a generous side of vongole on a rainy night.

And just talk to each other, about our life together, the shared history and the days to come.

About the lousy people we know, the good friends we have, the annoying relatives we inherit.

Knowing that after all we have been through in our lives, we can see ourselves through whatever all the tomrrows might bring.

Her Love Affair

I love hearing about love affairs.

So I listened with rapt attentiveness and watched the warm glow cast across her face as she re-lived the high, the rush, the exquisite anticipation of their trysts.

Then, as can be expected of affairs, the lovers were caught out and the illicit relationship came to an abrupt and devastating end.

Her husband demanded a divorce. She was left with no financial support even for their two young children. Her lover returned to his wife hoping to repair their marriage

She managed to get her professional life back on track, and essentially raised the two children by herself. Along the way, she found love again.

And right when the new love proposed marriage, the old lover ended his marriage and came back looking to resume their once-ardent and desperate relationship.

She now has to choose between two very desirable men - the old flame who once filled the void of empty days and loveless nights and the new love who was there in the years when she struggled to put her life back together again.

I didn't know either men; I wouldn't know who I'd marry if I were her.

But choose she did, and I met the husband for the first time last week. I adore him, and I have never seen her happier.

Isn't this a cool love affair story????

Who did she marry? Make your guess before looking up the answer here.

Answer to Her Love Affair

She married the new love; she decided she could not hurt this man who has been so good to her and for her all these years.

I still don't know who I would have chosen. What about you?

I feel good

I feel good these past weeks. Literally, physically, mentally, I just feel the best I have felt in a very long time.

The aches and pains in my joints have been minimal; some days they are almost absent.

I can actually really dance again. Sadly I will never be able to do dances like Hawaiian hula that demand very deep knee bends and beautifully articulate hand movements. But hey, I can return to Middle Eastern dance which has always been my first love...

My hair has stopped falling out by the handful; in fact I managed to grow my hair long again. The natural curl in my hair is beautiful; so many people have been telling me they love the perm :)

I also just found that I can use eau de toilette! I used to get severe burns from contact with scent in any form.

I know these are small things in the bigger picture of LIFE. But they are the luxuries that make life that much more enjoyable. And I am happy to be acutely aware of them in my waking moments, so that I can be fully appreciative of these good times while I live them.

It is just so good to feel good again.

Instant new citizens

Newly minted Singapore citizens. They are many.

Most are not noteworthy. Some warrant a moment of consideration. Others are downright an affront to ethical sensibilities.

Then there are these.

Doggy love

A cousin and an uncle lost their pet dogs after a brief period of age-related illness. Understandably, the two men are devastated and in inconsolable mourning.

I wish I could do or say something to make the grief more bearable. I wish they could be more like me and talk about their loss. But no, they are grief stricken, and family members insist that no mention be made of the dogs.

While I respect their wishes, I still think it is too bad that the men and their families take this approach.

My ace dog passed away many years ago. I still tear up when I talk about her. I had dogs after her, and I loved every one of them dearly and cared for them as much. They in turn gave me many happy years of doggy fun and love. But my ace dog is the only one who can walk on water, you see.

The grieving is normal and inevitable. But there are so many good memories to cherish. So, grieve in whatever form it takes, and take however long is necessary.

Just do not shut off the mind and heart to another mutt who is waiting to share his doggy life with you. When you are ready to love again.

The Belly Dance Hip Scarf

There are many reasons women are attracted to bellydance: the sensuous body movements, the intoxicating music, the middle-eastern environment.

I think it's a lot more basic than that. I think we just love the bellydance costume and all the accessories :)

It all starts with the hip scarf. It is the single item that separates the belly dancer from all other dancers no matter what exercise gear she wears to practice.

So when I noticed the only woman in practice class without a hip scarf, I lent her mine. And I watched with amazement how she kept looking herself in the mirror as she went through the paces, loving how the coins on the hip scarf went dingly-dangly jingly-jangly as she moved.

I don't know why she hasn't gotten herself a hip scarf by now. Maybe it's the money. Maybe she feels she's too old to be wearing something so showy. Whatever.

At the end of practice, I told her to please keep the scarf. She protested. Then she offered to buy it off me.

No, I insisted. I told her I wanted her to have it. That it would make me very happy to see her keep it and enjoy dance with it.

She finally accepted the offer. With the slightest of a shy smile, she said a soft "Thank you". Then she caressed the hip scarf one more time before carefully folding it and tucking it into her bag.

I have to admit I feel darn good seeing how much she loved the hip scarf. I hope she keeps dancing for a long, long time...

Gypsy in my Soul

It's just the gypsy in my soul
Make me pack up my things and go
It may seem like I'm on a roll
But it's just the gypsy in my soul

Van Morrison

I am sorting out my wardrobe for two weeks in South-West France. I expect beautiful weather in the beautiful Bordeaux and Biarritz country side.

I want to wear gypsy all the way. Gypsy feels right. Certainly, gypsy looks right.

What's love got to do with it

The girlfriend mentioned the notion of open-relationships - something the guys were bantering about.

It has been a very long time since I bothered to explore concepts of alternative love-styles.

I am a product of the 70s counter-culture in fashion, thought and being. The era - for all its beauty and failings - defined the person I am today. Certainly I've lived the "free love"
lifestyle of the time. It felt good and right to toss out the hypocritical societal constraints that governed society in the 50s and early 60s, and have the freedom to love - anyone, anytime, anywhere. A lot of us crashed and burned in that experiment in sexual revolution. But with hindsight, I still defend the movement for its innocence and honesty.

I find today's notion of an "open relationship" too cold, calculated and contrived. The parties talk through and agree on clear-cut set rules of sexual conduct with other parties.

I view open relationship as granting permission to be promiscuous. No where in this arrangement does love, even at the most superficial and lusty level, come into play.

I say if you want to sleep around, just go ahead. Saying no is not going to stop anybody anyway.

My closing thoughts on open relationships? Can it, dudes. You are trying to sell a bill of goods. Cheating is a nobler option, and it certainly is a lot simpler.

What girls want

It was an evening of much food, drink, and celebration; three young men in the family had birthdays within a week of each other.

Understandably, the conversation was mostly "young" - decisions about school courses, early days at work, strategy on how to get ahead in life. It was refreshing to hear them chart the course of their future with unabashed enthusiasm and confidence.

Sometime in the evening, the conversation turned to a topic that must be so much more significant and mysterious at this stage in their lives. The guys asked of each other and the girls: "What do Singapore girls want in a guy?"

The guys (typical) then went ahead to list what they knew the girls wanted:
- Someone who will be there for them.
- Money has to rank somewhere up there.
- A hunk, a brain, and something or everything in between.
- etc

I have to admit I never wasted time in my brave young days pondering what I wanted in a guy, or what a guy wanted in a girl. I was with whoever fitted my needs best at the time.

I never asked for or needed promises of forever and ever and a day. Those were just words. Relationships are a lot more straightforward than people allow them to be.

The girl wants the same things as the guy. And the relationship that works is one where those requirements are met.
I 'll drink to that gem of an insight. And you guys should too.

One evening with her

Mostly, I have a good measure of control over my social life. Mostly, I can decide who I see, when, where and why.

Then there are the rare occasions when I know I will totally detest the company but am somewhat obliged to humour the host and tolerate her choice of friends.

So I mentally prepared for the inevitably l-o-n-g evening when I will be trapped with her under the same roof, in the same room, at the same table, dangerously within spitting distance of each other.

I was surprisingly unruffled as I listened to her boast and brag about various aspects of her life:
- she has blackberry, iphone, huge telco bills, all paid for by her employer.
- her two near grown sons are in Australia. One working as a tax something, the other finishing uni.
- she looks to "activate" her Australian PR sometime in the next 5 years because Australia is ultimately the place to retire in.
- her near grown adopted daughter (still living at home) she describes as stupid and promiscuous. Her sons agree with her assessment and gleefully joins her in tormenting the girl with vicious name calling.
- her partying weekends in Singapore which starts with drinks and karaoke on Friday night, and ends at 7 am on Saturday at a dive that has open mike. Sleeps through Saturday and starts over Saturday night. Leaves for Bangkok sometime on Sunday to be there to start the workweek.
- her life chock-a-block with travel and holidays with friends, friends, friends!

I did ask early in the evening where's the husband. She played like she never heard me, and started on her tales of her life according to her.

Sigh. Alright. I was only curious about what happened, not concerned or saddened. I certainly wasn't interested in everything else she spilled out that evening.

And, at the end of the evening, we said our goodbyes, and went our separate ways.

Afterwards, I realised how strange that I felt nothing upon seeing her again. Really, truly, nothing. Followed by a fleeting vague sense of feeling sorry I could feel nothing for her. Then - nothing again.

July

was the month
that whizzed by me while I was distracted by Brisbane, dinners, dance and bread making. It probably has to do with the various activities and occasions being so unconnected.

Whatever. It was a good month.

I had plenty of quality time with people who matter very much to me. Many of them will now be away for their extended annual holidays and I expect to regroup with them only in September.

I got back to wearing more colourful clothes and putting on a more made-up face. The dance mates have been telling me how beautiful I look and asking why I was wearing mostly black all this time. I don't know why, but it feels good to break out of the black phase and live in colours again. I wonder now how bad or drab I must have looked to everyone all this while.

I feel I am finally "back". And it's a good feeling.