From Venice, with love

A hand holding up a vase of flowers next to an artwork featuring a street in Hither Green in London.

This morning, I took a short walk out into Hither Green to buy some flowers. I can’t be sure, but it felt like the first time I’ve ever bought flowers for myself since I don’t actually own a vase. Well, I didn’t until recently. And that is the only reason why I got some flowers today.

A few months ago, mum messaged tai che, ee che and I to ask if there were anything in one of her glass cabinets we wanted to keep. The cabinet was coming apart, and she wanted to throw it out. One of the items in that cabinet was a beautiful vase I bought for her in 2003 on my one and only trip to Venice. It was the only item in there that had a story for me, so I said I’ll take it back to London with me.

The story goes back to when I was a young boy – maybe 11 or 12 years old – and it was the school holidays. My cousin Kevin had come to spend the day together, and as kids being kids, I knocked over a beautiful Venetian vase my mother had bought on her first trip to Europe (I think) decades ago. I remember the moment vividly, it still plays in my head in slow motion. Two young boys having knocked over something, and tried to reach out for it, but failed.

I don’t remember mum being too upset with me (maybe because a cousin was there) but I felt guilty for a long time. So, when I finally decided to visit Italy, I knew that I just had to go to Venice so I could replace the vase for her. I couldn’t find one that looked similar, and so I got this new one, which was hand-blown. She never used it – it’s sat in that cabinet on display all this time.

Over two-decades on, mum was ready to say bye to it (alongside the many things she’s been giving away/throwing out/recycling over the past few years). So now, it lives in my not-so-new-anymore flat and today, it has finally served its purpose: there are flowers in it now. T

he picture above shows the vase and the flowers I got, but what I thought was interesting was to share this artwork my friend Sean gifted me as a housewarming gift of a street in Hither Green. On the left side of the picture you can see You Don’t Bring Me Flowers, the cute little florist and coffee shop close to where I live where I bought the flowers from.

I tried to look for a picture from my Venice trip to include in this post, but then realised that in 2003, I don’t know if I even had a digital camera. I’ll have to dig out a physical copy sometime to get it scanned. It would explain why it hasn’t shown up in this little Tumblr I have on my travel memories, although I haven’t uploaded it in years.

Remembering dad, 7 years on

Picture taken by a then-13-year-old Sara, my niece, when I got them tickets to catch this movie (probably a media screening of sorts). The things he’d do for his grandkids.

Today marks seven year’s since dad’s passing. Even though I miss him, I often think that it was good that he passed on before Covid-19 hit; I’m not sure what he’d have made of it with the worsening of his dementia. Or how mum would have had to take care of him during lockdown.

Unlike last year when I was in KL, I couldn’t make it for the prayers the family plans at the temple where his ashes remain. I did dream of him last night though, and woke up laughing from having made – in the dream – a terrible joke that only he would have laughed at. Forever in my thoughts.

Last trip with the parents

Facebook today reminded me that five years ago today, my parents and I landed in Siem Reap. My dad would pass away just under a year after that trip, so it was essentially our last trip together as a trio. This was us at the airport.

Photo quality from 5 years ago alone is so awful. But I digress.

That trip will always be memorable for me because of it was my last trip with dad. Angkor Watt was one of the few places he had wanted to visit that he never made it to (the other two were Japan and Hawaii) so I’m glad I was able to accompany them there. It wasn’t easy – by this stage, his dementia was quite advanced and he was already prone to have seizures (there was an episode at one of the temples when we visited Angkor Watt, so mum sat down with him for a bit while I explored a bit – thankfully not serious).

I really enjoyed the trip as well so much so that I wanted to revisit again. If I didn’t get my scholarship to head over to the UK later that year, I think I would already have gone back to spend an extended time writing and working remotely. I enjoyed the culture, a nice mix of touristy and non-touristy spots, the people were great and it was cosy as a city.

In 2019, my second sister ee che and I took mum to Vietnam. As a family who loves travelling, I look forward to when we can move around again so that I can take my mum somewhere else.

5 Years On

Dad and Niki at Trafalgar Square on a snowy January morning in 2013

Over the past four years, I have made it a point to visit a church somewhere to light a candle for my father to mark his death. He wasn’t a Christian but we always loved looking for churches and cathedrals together when traveling so I wanted to keep “visiting” them with him. I’ve managed to find somewhere new each year that we hadn’t been to before so that we’re still exploring the world.

The plan this year was to visit one in Birmingham, where I’ve just moved to. But since I’m still in isolation (and pretty weak and tired), I’m not able to. Sorry, dad.

So here’s a picture we took together rediscovering London in 2013 just a few days short of 8 years ago, when you flew over for my MA graduation. This was after dim sum with Adam, Justin and Mike, and there was a beautiful coat of January snow across the city for a whole week. Snow fell a bit in Birmingham this morning, so I thought of you too.

It’s almost hard to believe that it’s been 5 years. In some sense, where has the time gone but also, I remember the days leading up to your passing like it was just yesterday.

I miss you very much.

Thinking about my late father

If my dad was still around, he’d be 78 today.

It’s still surreal to think that he’s been gone for over 4 years now (here’s the tribute I wrote to him in my column back in 2016); the truth is, I think of him less as my life without him has normalised over the years. In fact, some days, when he springs to mind, I still have a moment of shock realising that he’s no longer here.

Tai Che (far right) dug out and posted this photo today in memory of dad. It’s the family in winter of 1995 visiting Windsor Castle, our family’s first long-haul trip together.

Today was especially difficult because I’ve spent the past few days wondering what he would make of the world today. My dad has always been my intellectual hero, and so much of lessons I’ve learned in life was due to conversations we’ve had and us bouncing things off each other (to my mum, it often sounds like we’re arguing!).

What would he have said to help me make sense of everything that’s currently going on?

The result was that I wasn’t as productive as I’d hope to be over the weekend – alright, fine, I completely failed to find any motivation – partially because my brain and body just shut down from all the anxieties and stress over the past few weeks. Truth is, the whole weekend was a blur.

This weekend was also the birthday of my brother-in-law Rizal and my Tai Che (eldest sister), so I think missing my family, and worrying about them, also contributed to my body just shutting down.

But I got back up and running today, so hopefully a more productive week ahead for me.