Monday, February 8, 2010 . 2/08/2010 01:03:00 AM

I totally intended to write a proper entry today. Totally forgot about it until I thought about the very first home I could remember. 

I used to live in Yishun. Spent my childhood rather happily, living in a big family. I don't use to speak Chinese at home. It's just English to my parents, the maid and Big Bro (back then, there was no lil' bro), and Cantonese to my grandparents. Life was simpler, quieter, and a great deal happier. I can still remember unlike other kids, I just wasn't afraid of the dark and could walk across the dark dark living room to my parents' room, to snuggle in between them. More often than not, the next morning, Big Bro would be next to us. I guess that's why both of us weren't afraid of the dark growing up (unlike the lil' one). 

I like it when grandpa brought me to school. I don't know why, but I can't remember why I prefer grandpa instead of the maid (that was the old one... can't remember her name). 

Fast forward nearly twelve years, when I'm on my way back to Yishun MRT from the home salon, I passed by where I grew up. The flat had a different colour, the chiku trees were bigger and fatter, the forest nearby became more sparse, and two blocks down, there was no church (and the church is HUGE). Life is harder now. And come to think of it, my family just got cut into half. There's no way I could go back there except through remembrance. 

Although I still can't help but wish I'd stayed that happy carefree child.