Reflections

I just got back on Sunday from a short but altogether highly enjoyable trip to KL. Most of my time there was spent with my uncle, aunt and their two children. Their 14 year old son, Stefan, has an X-Box 360 so we played Left For Dead while the 9 year old girl, Sonia, and I played UNO in the evenings. I used to be very close to them when they were little but we drifted apart once I moved to Perth. In fact I was more than pleasantly surprised to find that we still got along as well as we did.

Some time around my third night there I had a strange revelation while playing card games with the two of them. We were sitting on the floor of Sonia's bedroom and I was wearing my Princess nightie. It suddenly struck me that I felt very much like Wendy did in the Disney 'Peter Pan' film. With the engagement ceremony of yet another relative taking place the next day, that moment felt very much like the beginning of my last night in the nursery. Not long from now I'll wake up one morning and have to "grow up".

Of course I realise how ridiculous that notion is. Neither Wade nor my friends expect me to refrain from enjoying the things I have always loved - watching cartoons, playing games...in fact I rather fancy they'd encourage me to continue with my old habits and will probably join me in the pursuit of things I love. It's just that for a moment I was overcome with the realisation that not long from now I'll be married and will probably have kids of my own while the majority of my cousins will still be kids themselves.

Thankfully this anxiety was short lived and overwhelmed by the fact that I'm actually looking forward to all the changes to my life. How could I not when my life partner is my best friend and the one person I always enjoy being around :) Truth is, I'm blessed and I don't regret my life choices one bit.

During my time there my uncle and aunt organised for us to go on a day trip to Ipoh to visit my great-uncle and great-aunt (my gramma's brother and his wife). We left around 7 in the morning, aiming to arrive in Ipoh around 9:30. I'd seriously forgotten just how beautiful the views were outside the city.

The grassed peaks stretched out for miles on either side of the highway; each one farther away than the last, the pattern continuing until everything faded to white under a combination of mist and haze. It was a sight so tranquil and reassuringly constant. Sleeping giants looking out over the constantly changing city in the valley below. And then out of nowhere we lost almost all visibility. We hit a wall of mist, a downy covering so dense we could only just make out the vegetation closest to the road.

We were surrounded by a grey blanket broken only by the occasional sunbeam cutting through in distinct shafts of light. As for the sun itself, well, the great ball of fire hung like a pale full moon behind the mist. It was nothing but a white ball, it's glow overpowered by the unrelenting mass of mist. I was quite simply left in awe of the majesty of nature. In that moment I was reminded of my mortality; of how small and insigficant my concerns are in comparison to the wider world.

Obstructing as the mist was, it only heightened the reverence that always fills me when travelling through Malaysia. But then the temperature began to rise gradually and from time to time the sun overcame the mist to cast its full light on our surroundings. Even though only momentary, these lapses out of the dreamy mist felt like I was being forced out of the comforting embrace of bed and blankets.

It was unsettling enough that when we were again engulfed by mist (this time even denser) I found my heart catching in my throat. This was my slice of heaven, my almost quite literal place among the clouds. It was a serenity broken only by the jarring laughter of the radio presenter. At this point I realised that I had been lost in thought and taking notes for almost an hour and that my book lay quite forgotten and, neglected, growing warm upon my lap. In spite of this I simply couldn't tear myself away from the beauty of my surroundings.

Finally I gave in and allowed my mind to get lost in reflection for the remainder of the journey. If I'd thought the journey there made me contemplate my mortality, I was in for a right shock when I got to my relatives' place. My great-aunt has lost so much weight from her illness that she looks like her neck can hardly support the weight of her head. It was...a little too much for me to come to terms with at the time.

I remember staying in that house with all the family over the holidays as a kid. My aunty Salome used to carry me in her arms and sing to me to get me to eat. The song I always think of is "Let's Go to the Zoo", an old ad campaign in Malaysia for the KFC outlet they used to have at the Zoo. The thought that this woman, one of the most beautiful ladies I have ever known, is now reduced to a wrinkled creature is more than I can bear to think of. God willing she'll be able to attend my wedding but goodness knows how she'll be then.

To top it off, we took a drive to the nearby cemetary where my great-grandmother's ashes are buried at the foot of her husband's grave. Her mother is also buried there. It meant a lot to be able to pay my respect to her again. I miss her so much even if it has been 8 years since she passed. I really have very little recollection of the lunch that followed or of the conversations that took place. All I remember is listening to my music in the car on the way home and hiding behind my sunglasses hoping no one would notice I was distracted.

It still weighs heavily on my heart that there are so many people I love and cherish that will not be around for so many of my special moments. So many people who helped me get to where I am in life who will never get to share in the joys of the family. Well, I've had my emo moment so I'll leave it there for now. Might go into detail of the rest of the trip later on but so far these are moments that stood out to me. These are the people that matter to me and I'll never forget or let my children forget how wonderful they will always be, even if it's only in my memory.