Bittersweet, leaving for Liverpool

I watched through the little left of the window, blocked by the seat in front, tucked away in my little corner, as my train pulled from the station. My mum and dad stood side by side and waved. My Lao Bu and Papa. This was after after the embarrassing signs they made from the window, my mum, waving frantic, frowning at my helping another passenger with her baggage and my dad, boarding, giving brief instructions to improve my comfort. And though I rarely get to spend time with my parents, and acute embarrassment notwithstanding, I thoroughly enjoyed my last day and a half shared with the both of them. It has occurred to me that I’ve met no one, save a likely fictitious God, who will value me as much as the both of them.

And this thought struck hard and poignant vein last evening as I scrutinised my parents as we made our way to dinner and they sat across me on the tube. They have aged much. The lines on my mum’s face that extend from her nose bridge and curve to the sides of her mouth are carved deep, and her cheeks droop more than I ever remembered. My dad’s hairline is showing hints of receding, while his hair save a few black streaks is almost completely white. As he nodded off on the train, it was strange how a person who has always been for me a sort of hero, a sort of strongman seemed rendered by age so frail, with his skinny limbs and beer belly protruding from his tiny frame. It was scary.

I’m now 21, being whisked by Virgin rail to Liverpool for the beginning of my college education. Most of what I’ve accomplished through the years (though I know the cheeky few who would scorn this :P) can one way or another be traced to my parents. More than hoping I won’t disappoint them with my performance, there’s a desire to be able to reciprocate tangibly their affection. I hope hard that not only would I be able to help provide them (though I doubt they would need me to), but I may would also be able to share much in their remaining 20-40 years they may have left. And it may be premature, but many a time, as I bask in their care and company, the lingering knowledge that we will one day part so often makes it bittersweet.

Looking back...

So here I am, in my mum's rented flat in London, refusing to get off my very lazy ass to tour around. This though, would be my last day of bumming. After the weekend, it would be international week, and then, school starts.

The last few months will be a time I believe I'll treasure and take with me throughout Liverpool and beyond. This ride has been very crazy, hilarious, and on some occasions, debauched as hell. But in the midst of all the madness, I've come to noticed how important relationships are, especially with family and friends. And as much as the craziness is a lot of fun, it should always be used to compliment these relationships, although on the rare occasion, they can fuse and become one and the same thing. Yea, I do feel the love from all over.

The ppl who saw me off at the airport, aww... The 6SIR folks, my kids, my SISPEC roomies, who came over for breakfast, last minutie kopi with classmates, my bro and our supper at Geylang on my last night, and the big ang paos from my extended family. Lol. I hope u understand that's one of the few ways older folk show their love cos gay-note-writing and hugging and kissing isn't quite their thing, which of course, is fine by me, especially cos it did help finance some of the pre-departure shopping and er, partying. And they were really nice and all. Feeling the Lovin. Which is nice.
I also got notes, one of em from one of me kids who wrote me the nicest things ever, I pretty much melted on the plane. Yea, no wonder some ppl are still in debates. LOL. Er, as for my mates, hahaha, they wrote notes too, and rather derogatory ones come to that, but dudes just show love in a whole different way from chicks (like atk at Robs birthday (BURN!), or me and robs under his covers and THE PHOTOGRAPH which he so ungraciously delted, wooo), so what the hell. And yea, I'll miss you two hell a lot.

But as school beckons, I guess i've really got to settle down, focus, and get the work-mojo on, cause I really don't wanna become a PPP. So 2:1 it has to be, even if it means less madness, although from what I've heard, they can very much go hand in hand, woo.