the capacity of the human brain is strange.. it is curious how a mere 1.5kg of gray mass could store a lifetime of memories, recall the small details in life, coordinate our movements, i cannot even begin to enumerate the many wonders of it..
i remember him as the quiet wrinkly old uncle.. he was thin, balding with a sharp swarthy tanned face that was well-lined. he was always looking at something else, almost like there was something far off that he would see and not us. he would go out for his afternoon tea when i went to pick up my scooter from his garage after class in the afternoon. sometimes, he would smile when i acknowledged him. he never said much at all.. our conversations lasted the maximum, less than a minute..
when i visited his house, he would be sitting in front of the television, watching his channels.. it is funny that, while i cannot remember what is it he always watched, i do remember that faraway gaze he had over his morning coffee.. we would never forget to say hello to him when we do see him at that old coffee shop during breakfast..
i remember him as the quiet wrinkly old uncle.. he was thin, balding with a sharp swarthy tanned face that was well-lined. he was always looking at something else, almost like there was something far off that he would see and not us. he would go out for his afternoon tea when i went to pick up my scooter from his garage after class in the afternoon. sometimes, he would smile when i acknowledged him. he never said much at all.. our conversations lasted the maximum, less than a minute..
when i visited his house, he would be sitting in front of the television, watching his channels.. it is funny that, while i cannot remember what is it he always watched, i do remember that faraway gaze he had over his morning coffee.. we would never forget to say hello to him when we do see him at that old coffee shop during breakfast..
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| picture by David J. Nightingale © 2003–12 |
his children and grandchildren were always kind to us.. his daughter would send us food when she made extra, cookies during chinese new year, i remember her giving me popsicle sticks from her fridge when i visited.. even lunch was at her house at some point in my life..
we never talked in fact.. isn't it amazing that i remember all this given how seldom we interact?
maybe this is allusion to how sometimes, it is the little details that touch the heart.. and those who are seem to have passed on, they live right in the hearts they have touched.. who knows their time on earth? do you?
all the more reason for us to cherish every moment.. for tedious life may seem, it is simultaneously exquisitely fragile.
we never talked in fact.. isn't it amazing that i remember all this given how seldom we interact?
"when a butterfly flutters its wings, on the opposite side of the world, a tornado is created"this is, what i understand, the distilled basis of Butterfly Effect.
maybe this is allusion to how sometimes, it is the little details that touch the heart.. and those who are seem to have passed on, they live right in the hearts they have touched.. who knows their time on earth? do you?
all the more reason for us to cherish every moment.. for tedious life may seem, it is simultaneously exquisitely fragile.
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