For how long have I not sat on my rattan chair?.... the one that grandma ordered from her long-time buddy; the rattan master. The only thing grandma left for me before she left us so suddenly 42 months ago (= 3 ½ years).
The chair makes home feel like home. What am I talking here?
When you see it in our living room, you’ll notice the contradictory between modern and old days.
When you finally sit on it, you’ll feel what I meant.
It brings you back to our BIG WOODEN HOUSE 20 years ago.
It catches the memory of grandma’s beloved pet dog; the brown choi-yan-kiu that never failed to linger around the house aimlessly.
& it opens up your eyes of how colourful our porch once was when the bougainvilleas bloomed with beauty….accompanied with sis’s magical little-wall-flowers, circling the pebbled ground.
Peep over the window. Witness the smiles on faces of these children when they believed so much the tiny purple cheeries from their garden are to be made into Ribena drinks (and we made our own =P).
They are us…….the children that once housed the big wooden house some time, very long ago.
Now that the big wooden house is being morphed into a wall-bricked house…..and we’ve grown out of our child’s bones….watching today’s 50cents dropped less than the value of yesterday’s 5cents…..Despite all, we still miss our gigantic mango trees……. ……. the charcoal stove that fumed our open-aired kitchen…….the cemented floor that had our first crawl…. The ‘shivering’ morning bath caused by the chilled water from the well…. The rusty mattress that occupied the wooden floor of grandma’s room that we used to sleeps.…. The grappa’s lamp that gives us orange light at nights…… the big-squared fish ponds that we used to pass our time & have fun around…..
All these are not available online. They are found in our (my siblings & I) brain cells. Some of them are even hidden in our sub-conscious mind, refused to be thought of so often.
I don’t know why I can count them abruptly at this moment and I’m not sure if telling them out here is actually meant telling me once again…..of my own memories.
There are days where things can be real funny or out of their place…….I doesn’t know about yours but I’m sure of mine…..=>
I cannot be sure if I miss grandpa, but I can tell you I miss grandma. I didn't shed a tear at her funeral. But I cried so hard a few days later. And I wrote a poetry for her. Just for grandma.
Posted at 11:37 am by pikiiQ
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