Flashing back

My thought is racing everyday and that somehow implies I'm alive, from the inside, I think. Some asked, do I really have so much to write everyday. I don't know how to answer to that, as I have never thought about that before. I started writing when I was in standard two, wasn't something like what I'm writing now, but more to movies. I somehow wrote down the movies I liked, I remember writing about Batman, Anne of Green Gables series, especially. My imagine ran so wild that I wish I would one day be a writer doctor 😂 but I ended up being a teacher who writes but not a writer. Being the first child in the family, and both parents busied fulfilling their responsibilities, one as the sole bread-winner and another one religiously serving the family, I filled my time watching a lot of English movies and books on my own, despite stealing cigarettes from my grandparents who owned a store downstairs, smoking with my sister and friends was one of my serious businesses when I was young 😂 I was good at wandering around with my childhood buddies too, Leonard (my bff), his sister, Lesley, Li Kwong, Wee Li, and his bully brother, Wei Ren. My sister, Brenna, who is 3 years younger than me tailed every where I go faithfully. But somehow you just unknowingly left those who used to trust you and follow you from the back, I had my own life after I moved out from the house in form 6... to one point, I blamed myself so much for not being with her through her difficult times in life, as if I was the one whom betrayed and abandoned her... I used to dream that I left her in the dark crying... I couldn't forgive myself... but I did after that, knowing God has different plans for everyone and everything is in His control. Alleluia! She's happily married with two kids (my godchildren, another one soon to follow). Those were the ones etched in my memories. And, of course, Aunty Rubby, my nanny, whom I never have the chance to meet for nearly 30 years. Ironically, my sister is the one whom met her few times in this recent years. She was the forever gentle feminine in my childhood memory, with her flare skirt and long curly hair. I have never forgotten her, but deep down in my heart I'm sacred to see her again, I'm scared to lose all the good memories I had with her in the past. The forever young and gentle her.

I seldom got to see my dad, he'd some businesses outside. Aggressive, brutal, courageous, ambitious, outspoken, call him anything that has to do with masculinity, that somehow affect the way how I see men. I always believe men should be brave and stern, well, I ended up married a man with few words and at times, I'm a better fighter than he is 😅😂 My mom is the ever perfect woman I have ever meet in life, her OCD with hygienic, her hours of "runway show" and make up session before going out, I am the contrary of her. She would never wear sluggishly like I do, she complains about my messy hair, faded shirts, dark skin due to sport, not wearing skirt, being not feminine enough etc to this very day 😂 but I still love her very much, she's the most loving mother in the world, if it wasn't because of her, we could never survive and somehow able to live a quite happy life now (My dad WAS an abusive dad). I thank Lord for what He has done to our family, my dad has eventually chose to bow down to Him, to us, he is now a toothless tiger who needs a lot of attention and love 😂

I miss both sides of my parents' parents. I remember saving money to buy my bed-ridden grandfather a pack of dumplings weekly without failed during my secondary time, we shared stories and news and history. He couldn't see and walk, but he read the time well. He was the second person who received the salvation after me (but according to him, he was a Christian before he's 16, before he came to Malaya). My petite grandmother who grumbled a lot, small but strong, and love us. She's the one who sent us to school when we were young and brought us around with a piece of cloth tight on her back. Too bad that when she's badly ill, I was in UPM, I didn't even get the chance to meet her at her last breath. For that, I cried a lot, almost every year, I never celebrate April fool after her death. (Now I remember I do cry... how could I just skip this in my mind?) Then my grandma of my mother's side, I called her up every week either by house phone or public phone at school after my basketball session, a day before she went into comma, she called me up for the first time and the last time... the older my mom is now the more she looks like our grandma, and I see her shadow in her... and my grandad whom passed away this year...

I guess I'm blessed... I managed to have good relationship and memories with the 4 of them, three received Christ except my grandma who was the first to pass away and I was way too young to share the gospel with her... my faith grows stronger as I look back, knows that God was already there for me even before I know Him. So much ignorance, hurt and pain, has all gone with the wind. Good memories stay, hope grows stronger every time after the darkest hours passed. To the glory of God, who lives in us.

This is the outcome of my preparation for tonight sharing in youth ministry 😂👆 as usual never short and always grumpy 😅 I'm happy that I'm still able to write after all that had happened... it's a gracious blessing...