To the little boy I once knew

March 5, 2009

To the little boy I once knew,

You were such a big part of my life growing up. Days of exams and sunday school. Days of pocket money and getting grounded. Days of white and navy school uniforms. Days pre-mobile phone and Facebook. When did we become adults?

I remember when we were young. Glasses. Braces. Uncool clothes. Thinking we knew it all.

I remember the watch you gave me for my 16th birthday. It had ball-bearings going round the rim and 2 hugging teddy bears (with flowers no less) on the watch face. I wondered why you got me such a girly watch. I’m hardly a girly girl after all. But you seemed proud of it so I wore it anyway.

I remember having breakfast with you at the King Albert Park McDonalds. I ordered a sausage mcmuffin with egg meal. That’s all? you said. And then proceeded to order the same with 3 extra mcmuffins just for you.

I remember when you first got contact lens. I suddenly realized that you have beautiful eyes.

I remember you playing Chinese Chess with that guy at the nursing home we went to visit. He was the nursing home champion but you insisted on a game. You lost, of course. But both of you seemed to have fun.

I remember you told Jon that if he hurt me, you would kill him. Then you playfully punched him. He later told me that going out with me was very hazardous because my friends were oddly protective.

I remember that you asked me to go to some weird ACS play thing every single year and every year I couldn’t go. We never went once the whole time we were in secondary school. By sec 4, not going had become our weird tradition.

I remember leading worship with you. Once you were really out of tune. Before handing the mike back to me, you said that it was just as well God still loved us even if we couldn’t sing. You liked songs in minor keys. As did I. Jesus, lover of my soul.

I remember you used to draw these cartoon dogs on everything. Especially on church bulletins when you were bored during service.

I remember the phone number of your parent’s old house. Still.

I remember the first time I saw you in a suit. We were 16. You looked grown up. I just thought it was funny.

I remember your grin. Worthy of a toothpaste commercial. It always made me happy.

I remember you, me and Jon staying up at church camp to prepare for the next day’s devotions. The wooden slates of the second floor balcony. Breeze.

I remember feeling glum. You quietly sat next to me on the canteen tables and just put your arm around my shoulder.

I remember you being mighty pleased with the fake Adidas shirt you bought in Bali.

I remember staying up all night to play bridge. We teamed up and won every game because we had some weird telepathic thing going on.

I remember you took a nap in my room after canoeing training while waiting for cell to start. You left the beach in my sheets and I had to change them before I could sleep.

There are too many things to remember but I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I love you, mate. And I wish I was better at showing it in recent years. Eulogies are full of such empty words.

With a heart aching with the weight of “what ifs”,

Zeng, the little girl

Advertisements

One Response to “To the little boy I once knew”

  1. Keith Says:

    I am so, so sorry that you’ve lost such a dear friend. Remember him well.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: