Wednesday, 1 July 2015


Dear Blog,

Last night I traveled back to Nottingham from Coventry, where I spent approximately two weeks with my brother. 

Great time it was, having watched a couple of films I thought I'd never watch- Interstellar, Fast and Furious 7, Taken 3, and Transformer 4.

Cried in the former two movies we watched because I have the most active tear glands ever. 

Emotional me = confused brother. 

The minute I watched the scene of how the dad had to part from his children and how the daughter refused to talk to him upon hearing the news, my tears just rolled down my cheeks uncontrollably.

The scene where the dad strokes her daughter hair and gently told her: "When you were born, your mother told me, 'Now we're only here as memories for our children.'"

(Roughly along the lines lah but you get the gist!)


Yes, me, sobbing seriously hard, and my dearest patient brother clearly not annoyed (I am his sister so I know he wasn't annoyed okay no need for further clarification) when having to pause multiple times throughout the movie, for me to recollect and recompose myself.

Probably a good thing I didn't catch this in the cinema.

I mean, do you know anyone who cried when watching Interstellar?

In awe, blown away, maybe... but cry? Ha ha, I surprise even myself sometimes.

I was done blowing my nose and using up nearly a box of tissues to wipe my tears when one of the ending scenes of the white-haired, wrinkly, old lady was lying in the hospital bed and with such a tears-inducing tone sent the father away,  "Parents should never have to watch their children die."

Again, I broke into tears. The voice inside my head was screaming, 'Yet so many parents have had to witness their children leave the world before them.'

This whole break-down, dramatic, emotional episode... undoubtedly leaving home was one of the primary culprits. Leaving my parents, and trying to survive in the UK was an eye-opening experience, definitely.

I learnt that I love my parents so so much more than I can imagine, and no matter how old I grow, I will always need them.

"I want more time with them! It's unfair!" I was nearly yelling at my brother, who was amused at my reaction.

"Time with your loved ones is never enough. Say you were given another 100 years with them, will you think it's enough? Even if you were to be granted to live a 1000 years with them, at the end of the day, you'll still not find it enough."

I nodded, my brother's words ringing in my ears. 

"I hate it, brother, I hate it... Why must we make dad and mum upset or angry...? Why is it that we only start to mentally mature at a later age, and be more aware of the things we do that makes dad and mum upset or angry? Why can't we start to be sensible the minute we were born? So that we don't do silly things, we don't cause nuisance, we don't cause heart aches and disappointments in dad and mum..."

"Which is why we always hear, 'You'll only truly know how your parents feel when you become one." Brother was the usual self, composed and collected.

I looked down, taking a minute or two in attempt to nurse my heart, then looked back up again.

"So we need to be good to Dad and Mum, okay, Kor? We must treat them well. Kor, we must grab all the chance we have to spend time with them. Accompany them, Kor, they will be so happy!"

I started trying to enforce all my thoughts on my brother, and he replied, "Yes, Jun, we treat them as well as we can."

And as though brother's answer was a soothing ocean wave, my mind became slightly calmer.

I'm 20 this year.

And I have probably done things that led to my parents feeling helpless and miserable, I can't imagine how their heart must ache so bad when they see us not practising what they've taught, yet they never give up on me, they never give up on my siblings.

What has happened is the past.

I will make use of the rest of my life to love them, to care for them, and to spend quality time with them, because time flies, life is short, and I want to create more beautiful memories with them.

It's officially 2nd of July in Malaysia now, which means my parents are less than 24 hours to boarding the plane to the UK.

I pray for their safety, their happiness and ultimately a smooth journey for them.

I pray no matter how thrilled they are to come visit my brother and me in the UK, they would be able to get the rest they need.

Long hours of traveling is uncomfortable for their backs... I pray they will feel fine. 

Traveling is tiring and my parents aren't exactly the hippy 20 year old youths anymore. 

Although I must commend them for their excellent daily routine,  their healthy diet and their regular exercise.

I am immensely proud of my parents, my parents are my idols, my heroes, my world.

How they keep themselves in good health takes effort but they are willing to commit to it, and they always say the motivation behind such discipline is us three children.

To see us grow older, pursue our interests, develop our career, build a family, raise children of our own, and live a happy, healthy life.

And to not burden us in case of sickness.

I am truly blessed with such parents.

I pray they take care of themselves, after each other throughout the long journey, and I will be the happiest child alive upon seeing them get down from the bus. 

3rd July 2015. 10.40pm. Broadmarsh Bus Station.

I can already picture myself diving into their arms, hugging them so tight they would tell me they can't breathe.

I can picture them walking towards me, with their bag packs and luggage, and myself grinning the hardest I've ever had.

"Mum, Dad!" I would call out loud.

I can't wait to see them face to face.

I can't wait.

Man I'm over the moon just thinking about it.

I can't contain my excitement. 

Now... it's time for a shower after what seems to be the hottest day I've ever experienced in the UK.

Sunshine, please stay.

I was telling my friends, "It's back to showering-multiple-times-a-day season! YAYYY."

Ha ha, sweaty, probably uneasy at times, BUT hot is good, hot is ALWAYS good after the months of brutal winter and mad weather.
Hey, at least on this sunny day, I managed to drag my butt away from the chair to attend 2 hours of yoga lessons today, 1 hour of Body Pump class and the remaining 30 minutes of Zumba Tone (because Body Pump and Zumba had time clash).

All is good. Except I really need a shower.

Oh and, pack. Most certainly.

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