111 - My maternal grandparents

Eighteen years and seven months ago, I was born in Hong Kong. My aunt accompanied my mother back to my grandparent's apartment, the 4th flat on the 7th floor. Our family has had 704 for over forty years. That place is not just home to them, but is home to all eight of their daughters too. After my parents got divorced, it became my home.

Somewhere along the way, I had the opportunity, or experience, of living with my father, which turned out to be rather awesome. While he was at work, I spent time with his personable wife and his three fun-loving, laid-back daughters. Dad's house (or Dad's houses as he always moved a lot) was home to me too.

Somewhere along the way, I attained, as lame as it sounds, what you could only describe as a 'best friend'. His parents know me, and trust me, his younger brother knows he can call me in times of trouble. I call their humble Filipino family my home as well.

Somewhere along the line, my mother moved out of my grandparents' apartment, in an act of great motherly sacrifice, to give me my own room - her room - as I was finally becoming a very demanding teenage boy. I've stayed at the place she now owns, and I also call it one of my homes.

Although I had all of these places for my choosing, the one place I always went back to at the end of the night, the home I yearned for when I had other obligations throughout the night, was always my grandparents' apartment. The sense of familiarity and familial attachment, I feel, was mutual. My grandparents wanted me at their place every night as well.

In the weeks leading up to my departure from Hong Kong, I could feel a general sense of internal struggle and hardship every time I was around them. I was working a bartending job too, that often meant I had to leave before lunch time and not return until late in the night. I barely even spoke to them for eighty percent of the summer holiday.

In the final two weeks I was in Hong Kong, I was often waiting for the moment when I would start crying like a baby, missing everything, wanting to stay, suddenly hating the idea of coming to England. I guess I built it up too much in my head that I had tired the emotions out. I remember I cried about leaving my mother's side, and as I sit here typing this, I actually cry. All the emotions that I had when I was alone in my room as I was still going to high school all come back to me the minute I think about it. I cried about my dad. I cried about leaving my 4-year-old cousin. I cried about leaving my job. I cried about leaving my best friend.

But when it finally came to the moment I had to take one last look at my room in 704, I didn't cry at all. I had already shared my final conversations with all of classmates, all of my friends, all of my coworkers, and pretty much all of my family.

And then as I was heading out the door, my grandparents were standing there in the corridor, waiting to send me off. And I could see the bittersweetness that rested in their eyes. I'm crying at the moment, because the love I get from them is so surreal to me, it's so incredible, it's so unbelievable. You would typically think there was a generation gap, and quite frankly there is, and we did not share anything much in terms of conversation or material gifts, but the one thing we did share was that apartment, and our time living together.

In the thirteen weeks I was having my summer break, I had not wept at all. But it was in that moment when my grandmother looked at me with teary eyes, telling me to study hard, make sure to eat healthy, and most important of all, be good, I finally found what what would strike my heart. My grandfather, at the door, told me to put in my best effort at university, and also, to be good.

The simplest lessons you learn in life are the least eloquently expressed, but are said by the wisest people. The words they share are like dying words to me, and it's so sad to think of it like that, but that's the truth. Both are over seventy years old, both have medical issues of their own.

And to hear them say things like that really touches my heart in a uniquely confusing way.

I took the elevator down from the 7th floor.

I put my luggage in the boot of the car and then got in.

I opened the window, and stuck my head out the window to get my last look at them. I waved goodbye until the car went round the bend and a building blocked them from view.

Today, I just received a box with Christmas presents from my 1st aunt, 4th aunt, 8th aunt, and my mother. I was grateful for the gifts, and I loved seeing my mother's handwriting on the cards explaining what everything was and who it was from.

At the bottom of the box, I found a jumper and a card next to it, and it turns out it was from my grandmother. She wrote 'Merry Christmas' in Chinese, and her traditional style of calligraphy was always so distinctive, and it made me picture her writing the card. That's what triggered the idea to talk about this here... I miss my home, so much. I miss my grandparents so much. I can talk to my parents and my friends whenever I want, but I can't talk to them because they don't know how, and it drives me crazy...

Ohh... let me get myself together...

Ahem. Well, my aunts are going to set up a webcam chat thing with them on Christmas Day, so I'll see my beloved grandparents then. It's just been a very hectic final week of university, and I reckon I'm a little stressed out. Good thing I get to sleep tonight without worrying about handing in any assignments.

Crying's good for the soul, it really is. When was the last time you cried?

25 - Merry Christmas!

Coincidentally, this is my 25th post.


To all my readers, have a great Christmas!
Here in Hong Kong, we say, "聖誕節快樂!" (Pronounced: sing dahn jeet fy lock!)

24 - Going on holiday! But, what about the blog?

Yipes, I've literally spent a whole day blogging. I have to go to dinner too.

So, where is the Hatred King going this winter? Any Hong Konger would start off with just "China", without going into further detail to specify where in China exactly. Why that is, I don't know, but anyway, I am going to Sichuan, the red-colored province in the map. Anyone who watches the news will know there was an earthquake that hit Sichuan in May, killing nearly 70,000 people.

All quakes aside, Sichuan is also known for its many scenic attractions, a few of which I have pictured below. I hope that I can take photos that are even more overwhelming than these. The exact dates of my travel will be from December 26th to December 31st, meaning I just make it for Christmas and New Year celebrations here in Hong Kong.

Chengdu Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding (More like a zoo, it isn't as creepy as it sounds.)

Jiuzhaigou Valley

Jiuzhaigou Waterfall

Leshan Giant Buddha, stands at 71m tall.

Mount Emei. Clouds, literally, conceal the temples sometimes.

Tell me if you find these Oriental attractions interesting or boring. Then I'll know whether I should talk about it when I get back from it. :)

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So, what happens to the blog while I'm gone?

On the 26th, I will be posting a sort of reflection on 2008 right before I leave (which will be fairly personal). Other than that, there won't be anything major. Any posts to be posted while I'm gone will be published automatically so we'll see if I can dig up anything to blog about.

As for Do you hate it too?, the plan is entirely different. I will include that plan in tomorrow's post for that blog. For now, hope you're enjoying your holiday. I won't be back 'til Christmas, but that will only be for a short Merry Christmas greeting. Eat well, sleep well, make your last week of 2008 worth remembering!