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It’s been almost a month now since the family came over for a visit, which this post is somewhat long-delayed. Well, better I wrote about it as a reflection rather than something half-hearted and asinine typed up in the wee hours of the morning. The inspiration happened to hit after today’s kendo session.
Simply put, I’ve been a part of, or rather made myself a part of, a whole collection of families. Just like anyone else, I suppose. There was always this strong desire for ‘family’, i.e. people I can love, trust, and grow up with. And at the top of that list is my very own family, which is my parents, my little (I use the term little very liberally here) brother and yours truly. Then there’s the big family, which is pretty much the families of my parents lumped into one unit. Moving on, there’s the extended family, which is the 50-odd (again, very liberal usage of 50-odd; I’m sure there’s at least that many cousins from my dad’s side alone). Not as close as the first two, but I still grew up in that setting and it gives me some attachment to the whole lot. Especially with the cousins, most of whom are growing up to be quite...attractive...ahem.
Then there’re the ‘external’ families. These are the ones I managed to acquire so far in life. Of these, three are deeply entrenched in my heart; my very own ‘family’, the film crew people, and my bandmates. My ‘family’ put me in as the eldest brother in a virtual family of 10, two males and eight females. I had a unit of my own as well, having two ‘sons’ and a ‘daughter’, juniors who suddenly started calling me ‘dad’ after a short while of knowing them. Funny how one can get so caught up in that kind of roleplaying, only to increasingly enjoy the interaction and finally accept the term as something real and tangible. As for with the siblings, we were a family in my head only, but my relationships to them were very much brother-like (me to them, that is). The old filmmaking club family is still very much alive, although the club has been long-defunct. Ours was a bond of suffering, joy, and long hours of random jokes (yes, that was all included in the package). To this day we still relive the ‘glory days’, and keep our support for each other strong. As for my bandmates...well, that’s pretty self-explanatory. We struggled together, made music that didn’t completely suck, and actually made a few public performances altogether. My relationship with my bandmates (the first two of my ten ‘sisters’, actually) was literally on the verge of turning into real family; true-blue, full-blooded kind of stuff where we’d stand by each other no matter what. And to some extent, that still holds true for us now, even with thousands of miles separating us from each other. In addition to those three, my fellow brothers- and sisters-in-arms as well as my seniors and sensei in the kendo club are becoming more and more of a family rather than just as individuals in a club.
So what’s the point of all that when I was just supposed to be talking about my family’s visit here? It’s just that I’ve always believed in the strength of family, and my own family takes centre stage. If you can’t find that by reading between the lines of this entry, then chances are I completely forgot to put it in. Come to think of it, I haven’t even put in anything about my family’s visit. Cripes.
Well, to be sure, here’s a short list of things that I learned during the family visit.
1. 1. As much as think I’ve successfully replicated my parents standards of hygiene, that belief was quite promptly shattered by the sudden inspection that came with the surprise arrival of the family. Lo and behold, the room which I deemed clean (I had just vacuumed the day before, and nothing was on the floor...apart from a few scattered binders and the week’s laundry) was promptly inspected and subsequently tidied up to the correct standards. Not that it lasted, really. Within a week the room returned to my interpretations of the standards, and I’m sure my parents understand (though they probably won’t let me off the matter so easily).
2. 2. My brother is no longer ‘little’. Not since I left, anyway. He’s now my height and a bit more. And he’s also managed to display emotions I thought were unnatural for him before (e.g. romantic involvement with women). Funny thing is, I never really understood him before. Now I understand him even less. It’s like meeting an old friend who you’ve known for so long after some time being separated. But that’s just my view. Ask my brother about what he thinks of me after being away for half a year, and he’d probably say I haven’t changed at all. Oh well.
3. 3. Parents = better food. For the first time in months, I had a steak (nearly choked on it, too). Not something that I had to cook for myself (and regret afterwards), but well-done, restaurant-regulation fare. Oh, Lord. If asked about my most memorable activity done with my parents, it would probably be stocking up on proper nutrients for the coming winter (competing for first place with hugs, though). I do believe that’s why I’m still standing (sitting?) in the midst of winter, laughing haughtily at the cold, cold wind and driving rain while other people are coughing like mad. Or maybe that’s because my heater finally works properly. Either way, it’s all good.
4. 4. The family in-jokes are still as funny as they used to be. My parents being who they are, jokes and laughter are always part of the conversation. Also, I hadn’t been able to crack any *cough*dirty*cough* jokes for about four months, so I was damn happy let loose the torrent of less-than-tasteful jokes I knew (or thought) my parents would enjoy. It’s these little things that really make being with the family so enjoyable.
5. 5. I miss the liberal hugging. I’m somewhat reluctant to give hugs to people I barely know; to me at least it’s as sacred and private as a kiss. I hold hugging in high regard; the people I hug and let hug are those who I believe I can trust and love with no regrets. Or those who need hugs desperately, but those are special cases. As much of a hugger I used to appear at home, over here it became apparent that I’m not as free in giving hugs to total strangers. Heck, the first non-familiar person to hug me over here made me hide in fear. I’m that paranoid of the consequences of surprise hugs. So I made the most of it when my parents came. Hug here, hug there, a hug an hour if possible. Call me crazy (or queer), but it’s one of the things I miss the most from home.
6. As much as I can make this place my home, my family will always hold a piece of my heart, and there is always a place for me to come home to (I hope). So here's a big, gooey, sentimental and love-filled shout-out from this end of the earth. You guys are the best.
[End Transmission]
Clocked: 10:30, Saturday, 21 July 2007
-----------------------------------------------How sweet. I must've been pretty high when that came around. Anyway, work to do, things to reflect. Next post...something completely different.
[End Transmission]
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