My writing class over the past semester was a time of reflection. The piece below that I had written is one dedicated to my family. However, the following essay does not fully represent my family nor should any part of it be taken as an actual event.
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“Someone’s living up to his reputation
as a lawyer,” remarked Aunt Yo. As usual, Max, the ever-witty one, was seizing
opportune moments to jest.
She
continued, “Just make sure you take care of all my legal issues when I get old,
okay?”
“Oh
don’t just look at me! We will have too many lawyers in our family… you could always
look for Margaux, Tiffy or Nicky. They will be more than happy to cover your
back,” chuckled Max, amused that he was the target go-to guy.
He
was not lying. There are, indeed, a handful of law students in the extended
family. It was, however, a sharp reminder that the majority of us are in
college, preparing to leave our nests for good. As we sat in the comfort of the
“Lai residence” and in the company of close family, we reveled in the moment of
just being together. Being dispersed across the globe has made gathering as an
extended family an increasingly rare occasion.
As
we helped ourselves to the spread of food, ranging from mother’s beef rendang, an exquisite Malay dish
pressured cooked with South East Asian spices and curry pastes, to Aunt Tina’s
signature salads, we reminisced the days long past of our youth.
“Do
you remember the times at Pebble Bay when we would dress up in whatever
costumes we had in the big blue tub?” Tiffy reminded us while gesturing with
her fork.
“Yes,
Keefe and Bryce would always be the default bad guys and the little ones like
Lauren and Travis would huddle together and pretend to be vulnerable pets or
babies,” I added.
“Lauren
was so cute dressed up as a cat!” Margaux quipped, “and Keefe had this red
devil costume he would wear. I remember he had this red pointy tail he used to
poke everyone with.”
Max,
then concluded, “And of course, Tiffy, as the invincible narrator, would end
the story by trapping or leading Keefe and Bryce to their demise.”
We roared with laughter. He definitely said it
as it did happen. We used to play-act what turned out to be the story of cartoons;
every episode had a different plot but a relatively consistent ending -- the
same bad guys get beaten.
As
soon as the laughter died down, I announced, “I have a confession to make.” Then,
silence became apparent. When there were major ‘confessions’ to make, everyone had to hear
it, even the aunts and uncles.
“Do
you remember how we used to celebrate moon-cake festival as an extended
family?” I mentioned. With that said, all attention was lost from the aunts and
uncles. They were anticipating ‘juicier’ news like an update on my relationship
status. Unfazed by the loss in attention, I continued, “Remember how we used to
have our own lanterns from Ultraman to all kinds of animals? Do you remember
Max’s batman lantern and how it burned? I was actually behind the whole
accident.”
“What?”
Max injected through a mouthful of noodles, “and I was scolded so badly by my
mom for that!” He paused and burst into laughter, amused at the revelation he
had just received.
“I
miss those fun and innocent times,” lamented Margaux, half focused on typing a
text message into her smartphone.
Quick
to seize an opportunity, Max teased, “Well Margaux, you moved fast to leave
your childhood days behind. Look at how many boyfriends you’ve had! You change
them as often as you change your clothing.”
“Speak for yourself! You had your fair share
of girls,” snapped Margaux, abruptly shooting her dagger eyes at Max. It was a weak
comeback. Fortunately for Margaux, total humiliation was avoided as someone
interrupted, “I was just wondering, what were
we up to in our teenage years, apart from the distractions from pubertal
attraction?”
There
was an awkward silence. Then, Tiffy, being the oldest among us broke the
silence, “Well, I left for college by the time every one of you became teens so
I can’t speak for all of you but I remember being heavily occupied with school,
especially with my school’s drama club and just busy preparation for the ‘O’
and ‘A’ level exams.”
“You’re
not that old, Tiffy, “ Max piped in, “life in secondary school and junior
college hasn’t changed one bit. But anyway, we were so caught up with our own
activities, there’s hardly anything to reminisce of doing together.”
There
was a sigh at the end of the long conversation. Times have changed though, we
agreed. Gone were the transformative yet alienating teenage years. We needed to
meet again as cousins before the opportunity was lost. Next Thursday? No,
Lauren has a dance practice. Friday? Max and Margaux have already made
commitments to their internship attachments. Saturday? Definitely not, weekends
tend to be untouchable. Prospects of a cousin outing for the other days of the
week looked dim. We agreed to communicate by text to determine a time and date.
I knew what that meant -- the procrastination of an inevitable failure.
As
the night progressed, one by one, each family left with hugs. The final close
of the door stirred me. Its sound echoed a wave of bittersweet emotions,
savoring the hours we had just shared and were now gone. The departure of my extended
family felt different this time and I could not put a finger to it.
Instinctively,
I flipped open my laptop heading straight to Facebook and through pages of
photos, scrolling past pictures from junior college, military events and random
activities I had nearly forgotten. Who are these, people? I thought to myself
as I scanned through some pictures. Then, a notification popped up. With a
click, the window opened to a picture of all the cousins that evening. In the
right hand corner, Margaux’s written caption read “Cousins forever. I love
these people so much!” to which I promptly hit the “like” button.
“Me and my cousins and you and your cousins, it’s a line that is always running…” sounded
the lyrics from the Vampire Weekend song playing out of my laptop. Shuffle on
Spotify has this uncanny way of choosing the ideal song for the perfect moment.
And
then it dawned on me. The line that is
always running. My mathematical mind pictured an infinitely straight-line
graph cutting through points, linking and connecting them together. An infinite
line, a timeless connection. My family will be around. Ironically, almost all of us will be flying to different
corners of the world. Future cousin gatherings started to seem wishful. As I
lay in bed that night, the evening replayed in my head, all in an attempt to immortalize
the memory of the fragrant aroma from the Michelin star worthy food we had, the
priceless laughter, the irreplaceable inside jokes, shameless aunts trying to collect
future free services…
Late
next morning, I reached for my phone as it blasted its classic doorbell
ringtone alarm. All blurry eyed, I tried to make out where the screen was to
put an end to the noise. Despite my grogginess from my overdose in sleep, I
noticed the long string of messages displayed too. My elder brother had created
a cousin text-messaging group. “Marmalade Pantry next Monday?” it read,
followed by a whole barrage of “yes!” I smiled. I was glad my doubts were in
vain. Anyway, they are family; they will forgive my cynicism. The only cost? Being subject to uninhibited teasing. I think
I can take that. Without any thought, I keyed in an “ I’ll be there!” Perhaps
we have more to share before we go our separate ways.
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