Love, actually, again.

Mingdao and Claire, Foochow Methodist Church, 5 Jan, 2008.

 [click on picture for more.]

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It’s midnight, raining outside, and my computer whirs away, filling the silence. I’ve just gotten off the phone, smiling away to myself at the little wonders of this smallworldafterall. Like I said, I don’t believe in coincidences. There are reasons why people are brought into your life, reasons why they stay and walk with you. And for that, I’m thankful. Cos honestly, I don’t know how to do this on my own. Nursing a cold at home, and sleeping more than I really ought to has given me time on my own, to pray and ponder the uncertainties that hit me in my face every now and again, more constantly now then ever. Through my sniffles and throat clearing, I keep asking where He wants me to be, what He wants from me right now. My sometimesoons have somewhat turned to dust, for now anyway, and I believe that You meant for it to be this way, but…

Faith, hope and love. Patience my dear child.

Okay God. If that’s what You’re saying, I’ll wait.

To: Daddy, Part I.

 I always think that my Dad deserves so much more than these words from his only daughter every year [Dad, I know you're probably smiling to yourself now]. Funny thing is that my Dad was the one who actually called me today while I was at lunch. This is how our conversation went:

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Dad: Hi Girl!

Me: Hi Dad! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! -insert sheepish grin.

Dad: Haha! Thank you. You remembered arh!

Me: Of course lah. I was going to call you later lah. But you beat me to it lah.

Dad: Sure anot.

Me: Eh, you call me cos you thought I forgot issit.

Dad: No lah, I called cos I miss you lah! I didn’t even remember my own birthday. But Mum wants to go for a nice dinner…

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So anyway, on a more serious note.

Dear Daddy,

Okay, I tried to write this descriptive piece about what type of Dad you are, my arguments with you, etc. I tried. But I realised, that everything I REALLY want to say, can be said in a few words. I didn’t need an entire essay [also because I think I've semisortof run out of words, but I'll write one soon], although I know how much you would have liked to read it. But here’s how it goes:

Thank you for loving me. And I love you, Daddy

From the black book.

‘My eternal struggle to figure out where home really is, who is right and wrong has finally left me in a state, where thinking has become, breathing. It’s like the constant fight has finally stopped and said, “This isn’t home. Nowhere is. Don’t get comfortable. Anywhere.” That’s exactly what I was thinking too. But still. The tug-of-war still carries on. Pulling on every heartstring that ties me to each place. The soft, bittersweet sense of nostalgia fills my soul as I contemplate and look back. Honestly, life on the edge, I think that’s what it supposed to be a reckon. For some reason, my throat has been feeling rather… funky, and constantly feeling as if I’ve come down with something.

 It is that time of the season, when I decide if it is with or without.’

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Yes, that question of ‘home’ again. Space and place.

Classics.

Wishing you were somehow here again

Wishing you were somehow near

Sometimes it seemed

If I just dream

 Somehow you would be here

 

Ah, somehow Phantom of the Opera will never fail to impress me whether or not the cast is up to standard. The music and set made up for everything else that was lacking. Anthony Warlow played the Phantom brilliantly, his voice is just amazing. When he hit that note in Music of the Night, I knew that the rest of the show was going to be that good because of him.
I still recall how my family would dress up, and go to the theatre every once in a while. The first time ever that I watched Phantom in Singapore, my dad told me that I was this little girl, sitting on top of the seat, in a red dress, bouncing around to the tune of Masquerade and conducting my own little band. When I went home, I’d insist on playing the soundtrack in the car till the point that I could sing every single lyric in there. That still hasn’t changed much I reckon.

Well, I’m waiting for my chance to watch The Lion King now. And Les Mis!