I was kinda bored, so I typed in my name "Derek Lau" into Yahoo. You know, ego surfing.
The 8th match was titled "I love you, Ah Ma". Alwyn wrote this almost a year ago. I've read it a million times I think. Or maybe it just seems like a million times. But I read it again anyway.
And it feels like the hurt is still so fresh. Just started crying again. I still miss her...
Tuesday, May 20, 2003
Saturday, May 10, 2003
Me happy :)
J and I are off to a good start. I think. :)
I feel happy with her. Even when she's checking email and I'm lying on the bed half asleep. Even when she's doing her photos and I'm just watching her do it. Even when we're doing nothing. Especially when we're doing nothing.
A little scared... She's never said how she feels, and I'm too afraid to trust what I see or what I think. I'm hoping time and patience will coax her to share her feelings.
Also afraid that this happiness could be so short-lived. She doesn't have a job. If she doesn't find a job pronto, she will lose her H1 status. And then what? She'll have to leave and return to Singapore. I don't want that. I don't know what to do if that happens. But I'll take it one step at a time. There are several ideas that I can pursue to solve those problems. One thing at a time.
For now, me very happy. 'nuff said. :)
I feel happy with her. Even when she's checking email and I'm lying on the bed half asleep. Even when she's doing her photos and I'm just watching her do it. Even when we're doing nothing. Especially when we're doing nothing.
A little scared... She's never said how she feels, and I'm too afraid to trust what I see or what I think. I'm hoping time and patience will coax her to share her feelings.
Also afraid that this happiness could be so short-lived. She doesn't have a job. If she doesn't find a job pronto, she will lose her H1 status. And then what? She'll have to leave and return to Singapore. I don't want that. I don't know what to do if that happens. But I'll take it one step at a time. There are several ideas that I can pursue to solve those problems. One thing at a time.
For now, me very happy. 'nuff said. :)
Monday, April 07, 2003
Great weekend!
This has been a great weekend!
Thursday, went clubbing in SF with Jenn. Had a decent time.
Friday, went clubbing in Palo Alto at Rudy's. Went alone since I was just in a mood to have a drink. Well, what do you know. Grabbed a beer, liked the music, started dancing.
Saturday, went (you guessed it) clubbing again! Had dinner with Terry at Crustacean, went to 111 Minna, and clubbed. Coincidentally, saw Yuni and Vivian there too. I always seem to bump into him. Bumped into him the last time at 1015 as well. And the guy says he never clubs. YEAH RIGHT.
Sunday, restarted my tae kwondo class. I had 2 newcomers join the class, Jeff and Sonja. Both of them are beginners. Jenn and Kiat used to be at their level. Now I look at the relative skill level between them and I marvel at how far Jenn and Kiat have come. I feel proud of them.
Other misc things I accomplished this weekend...
- sent all my stuff for dry cleaning
- swapped out the power supply for my PS2
- cleaned up my room
- hooked up my DVD player
My legs ache from too much exercise this weekend. My tummy aches a little where Jenn hit it last night. And my arms feel like they'll drop off. But all in all, I had a fantastic weekend!
Thursday, went clubbing in SF with Jenn. Had a decent time.
Friday, went clubbing in Palo Alto at Rudy's. Went alone since I was just in a mood to have a drink. Well, what do you know. Grabbed a beer, liked the music, started dancing.
Saturday, went (you guessed it) clubbing again! Had dinner with Terry at Crustacean, went to 111 Minna, and clubbed. Coincidentally, saw Yuni and Vivian there too. I always seem to bump into him. Bumped into him the last time at 1015 as well. And the guy says he never clubs. YEAH RIGHT.
Sunday, restarted my tae kwondo class. I had 2 newcomers join the class, Jeff and Sonja. Both of them are beginners. Jenn and Kiat used to be at their level. Now I look at the relative skill level between them and I marvel at how far Jenn and Kiat have come. I feel proud of them.
Other misc things I accomplished this weekend...
- sent all my stuff for dry cleaning
- swapped out the power supply for my PS2
- cleaned up my room
- hooked up my DVD player
My legs ache from too much exercise this weekend. My tummy aches a little where Jenn hit it last night. And my arms feel like they'll drop off. But all in all, I had a fantastic weekend!
Friday, April 04, 2003
Cat Club
My buddy and I went to the Cat Club in SF. It's 80s party night. I don't usually go to 80s clubs, but I'll try anything once, and most things twice. I was in one of those moods. Good mood. Great mood even. Very playful mood. Red long sleeved V neck. Black jeans. Knee length leather jacket. Spiked and sprayed a little blue in my hair. My buddy Jenn picked me up at my place. I was a little late, so he just hung out in my room while I dolled up. He was watching a new DVD he just bought - Baise Moi (bonus points if you've watched it or heard of it).
So anyway, we eventually got on the road. Well, kind of. Two minutes after leaving my place, he said he wants coffee but he's too cheap to spend on a Starbuck's and he doesn't want crappy gas station coffee. Like I said, I was in a great mood, so I told him I'd treat. The gal working at the neighbourhood Starbucks knows us. The conversation goes like this:
Jenn: Hey.
Her: Hey.
*She scribbles XHWCM on a cup and then looks at me*
Me: Same thing.
I love it. She scribbles XHWCM (bonus point for knowing what that means) on two cups, we pay, get our coffee and leave.
Fast forward to the club. I've been dancing for an hour. This girl dancing next to me is swinging her arms like a windmill and her hand whacks me in the face. She turns to me, leans over and yell "I'm so sorry".
Me: How sorry is that?
Her: Extreeeemely sorry
Me: Not good enough!
She holds my hand, kneels down, and starts kissing my fingers. Her friend sees her doing that, probably thinks she's giving me a blowjob or something, has this absolutely horrified stricken look on her face, grabs her and pulls her away. At this point, I crack up so bad that I am kneeling down clutching my sides. That face was absolutely to die for.
Fast forward again. It's 2am. We're heading home. Only problem, our car is parked probably 3 or 4 blocks away, and it's absolutely pouring. I'm not talking about pouring here. I'm talking POURING. So we run. And run. And run. And it's not easy to run in boots. Boots aren't meant for running. However, it does seem that boots are meant to retain water. My feet felt like they were in a fish tank.
So anyway, we eventually got on the road. Well, kind of. Two minutes after leaving my place, he said he wants coffee but he's too cheap to spend on a Starbuck's and he doesn't want crappy gas station coffee. Like I said, I was in a great mood, so I told him I'd treat. The gal working at the neighbourhood Starbucks knows us. The conversation goes like this:
Jenn: Hey.
Her: Hey.
*She scribbles XHWCM on a cup and then looks at me*
Me: Same thing.
I love it. She scribbles XHWCM (bonus point for knowing what that means) on two cups, we pay, get our coffee and leave.
Fast forward to the club. I've been dancing for an hour. This girl dancing next to me is swinging her arms like a windmill and her hand whacks me in the face. She turns to me, leans over and yell "I'm so sorry".
Me: How sorry is that?
Her: Extreeeemely sorry
Me: Not good enough!
She holds my hand, kneels down, and starts kissing my fingers. Her friend sees her doing that, probably thinks she's giving me a blowjob or something, has this absolutely horrified stricken look on her face, grabs her and pulls her away. At this point, I crack up so bad that I am kneeling down clutching my sides. That face was absolutely to die for.
Fast forward again. It's 2am. We're heading home. Only problem, our car is parked probably 3 or 4 blocks away, and it's absolutely pouring. I'm not talking about pouring here. I'm talking POURING. So we run. And run. And run. And it's not easy to run in boots. Boots aren't meant for running. However, it does seem that boots are meant to retain water. My feet felt like they were in a fish tank.
Thursday, March 20, 2003
In memory of my grandmother, Lui Lan Hee by Alwyn Lau
Original version here:
http://www.angelfire.com/journal/althehare/ahma.html
I am creating this page in case angelfire.com ever goes down...
-----
In memory of my grandmother, Lui Lan Hee, lovingly known as Ah Ma to this grandson of hers…
I remember how she would always be the first one to arrive at the appointed meeting place, always holding either a bottle of freshly brewed herbal tea or fruits, meant for my week in Singapore. How, when I approached her, she would lift her hand to me, beckoning me to carry her up (her inability to do so herself with ease being a price she pays for sitting down a good half-hour ahead of the rendezvous time). And we would exchange our usual (but much enjoyed) banter, me telling her how young and strong she looks, she asking me how my week was, interspersed with complaints about the state of my shoes, my hair, my shirt, my face. We would then go for the Main (Only?) Event – lunch (or, on occasion, dinner) – she having already in mind a venue, me just tagging along. Then she’d grab my hand (or I hers, hard to tell) and we’d walk, a slow stroll, straight to where the chow was. We didn’t stop very often to look at discounts or unusual/cool things; my granny wasn’t much the shopping type (not even window).
We’d eat, sometimes I bought, sometimes she did; most times we ordered too much. And then we’d take our slow stroll back to the place where we’d say goodbye and promised to see each other again two Saturdays later (notwithstanding a mahjong session for her).
These special weekends were made occasionally even more special by an invitation to her place (a small one-bedroom flat shared with two other women and a blind poodle which barked at every not-invented-here sound or smell). I would arrive to always find her sitting, waiting for me, asking why I took so long and premonitioning that lunch (or, on occasion, dinner) is getting cold. It would always be absolutely sumptuous with two dishes minimum. And, yet again, before I left there would either be a packet of herbal drinks or fruits packed and ready to go (which, I confess, I didn’t always finish).
She’d call me frequently during my fortnightly stays in Toa Payoh; she made no secret of her desire to spend time with me, to share those much-cherished meals (she didn’t eat out that often), to groan about life ‘in general’, to scrutinize the ordinary.
But this was a year ago…
About a week earlier she held my hand for the last time; she stroked my face, a few final touches. A few days later, she couldn’t recognize me anymore, shortly after which she lost completely all physical interfaces with the world beyond her mind.
She died tonight. Barely five minutes after my arrival at the nursing home, hardly three minutes after I held her yet warm – though motionless – hand. Maybe she was waiting for my last visit, postponing her final breath till I was next to her. Or maybe it was a coincidence. I would love to know it was the former, but my grief depends not on either.
And as I’ve been trying for the past week to hold in my tears (I can hold them back no longer, though), I think of the simple love she showed me. And how her death has left me with the loss of a dear, sweet friend.
She didn’t always have the best ideas, only the most excited ones. She didn’t necessarily have the least selfish motives, only some of the most selflessly hospitable ones I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t all that appreciative of life, but she did exude a kind of caring not needful of appreciation.
How I wish I could go back in time, to those weekend outings I had with her…in Aljunied, in Tiong Bahru, in Sogo, in Chinatown, even in Starbucks (where she had the one and only latte in her life, I think). These are now memorials in my mind, always.
I will never forget you, Ah Ma…how I wish I could walk you across the road again…and hear you nag me…I miss you dearly…you have been and are still deeply loved and cherished…and I will always look forward to that day we see each other again, and we dance and laugh together in the light and love of our Lord, who loves you more than I ever can, and whose warmth and caring I have felt from you.
Alwyn Lau
28th July 2002
http://www.angelfire.com/journal/althehare/ahma.html
I am creating this page in case angelfire.com ever goes down...
-----
In memory of my grandmother, Lui Lan Hee, lovingly known as Ah Ma to this grandson of hers…
I remember how she would always be the first one to arrive at the appointed meeting place, always holding either a bottle of freshly brewed herbal tea or fruits, meant for my week in Singapore. How, when I approached her, she would lift her hand to me, beckoning me to carry her up (her inability to do so herself with ease being a price she pays for sitting down a good half-hour ahead of the rendezvous time). And we would exchange our usual (but much enjoyed) banter, me telling her how young and strong she looks, she asking me how my week was, interspersed with complaints about the state of my shoes, my hair, my shirt, my face. We would then go for the Main (Only?) Event – lunch (or, on occasion, dinner) – she having already in mind a venue, me just tagging along. Then she’d grab my hand (or I hers, hard to tell) and we’d walk, a slow stroll, straight to where the chow was. We didn’t stop very often to look at discounts or unusual/cool things; my granny wasn’t much the shopping type (not even window).
We’d eat, sometimes I bought, sometimes she did; most times we ordered too much. And then we’d take our slow stroll back to the place where we’d say goodbye and promised to see each other again two Saturdays later (notwithstanding a mahjong session for her).
These special weekends were made occasionally even more special by an invitation to her place (a small one-bedroom flat shared with two other women and a blind poodle which barked at every not-invented-here sound or smell). I would arrive to always find her sitting, waiting for me, asking why I took so long and premonitioning that lunch (or, on occasion, dinner) is getting cold. It would always be absolutely sumptuous with two dishes minimum. And, yet again, before I left there would either be a packet of herbal drinks or fruits packed and ready to go (which, I confess, I didn’t always finish).
She’d call me frequently during my fortnightly stays in Toa Payoh; she made no secret of her desire to spend time with me, to share those much-cherished meals (she didn’t eat out that often), to groan about life ‘in general’, to scrutinize the ordinary.
But this was a year ago…
About a week earlier she held my hand for the last time; she stroked my face, a few final touches. A few days later, she couldn’t recognize me anymore, shortly after which she lost completely all physical interfaces with the world beyond her mind.
She died tonight. Barely five minutes after my arrival at the nursing home, hardly three minutes after I held her yet warm – though motionless – hand. Maybe she was waiting for my last visit, postponing her final breath till I was next to her. Or maybe it was a coincidence. I would love to know it was the former, but my grief depends not on either.
And as I’ve been trying for the past week to hold in my tears (I can hold them back no longer, though), I think of the simple love she showed me. And how her death has left me with the loss of a dear, sweet friend.
She didn’t always have the best ideas, only the most excited ones. She didn’t necessarily have the least selfish motives, only some of the most selflessly hospitable ones I’ve ever seen. She wasn’t all that appreciative of life, but she did exude a kind of caring not needful of appreciation.
How I wish I could go back in time, to those weekend outings I had with her…in Aljunied, in Tiong Bahru, in Sogo, in Chinatown, even in Starbucks (where she had the one and only latte in her life, I think). These are now memorials in my mind, always.
I will never forget you, Ah Ma…how I wish I could walk you across the road again…and hear you nag me…I miss you dearly…you have been and are still deeply loved and cherished…and I will always look forward to that day we see each other again, and we dance and laugh together in the light and love of our Lord, who loves you more than I ever can, and whose warmth and caring I have felt from you.
Alwyn Lau
28th July 2002
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