Christmas Eve

I was at grandma's house last night with the rest of my extended paternal family members to celebrate Christmas. We have this annual gathering every year, despite it's lack of religious significance to anyone in the family, as it's one of only two gatherings we have every year (the other being Chinese New Year).

I always look forward to the gathering, but the excitement has reduced in recent years. Somehow, the celebration seemed more fun when I was young. Judging by how some of my elder cousins no longer attend the gathering, I suppose I'm not the only one who feels that way. Indeed, watching my younger cousins play with one another reminds me of my own enjoyment years ago. As we grew up, my cousins and I gradually became strangers. Some prefer to sit at a corner with their siblings; others took to fooling around with the younger ones. Weili and Chew Ling, for instance, were classmates in Xinmin Sec, but looking at them now, one would have thought they were really strangers. Under the same roof for about three hours, yet not a single word was exchanged; neither was there a hint of acknowledgement of each other's presence.

I have not been close to either of them myself, but yesterday, I had a pretty long chat with Weili over dinner. And it's all thanks to her boyfriend, Zhao Wei. I find it pretty laughable that someone outside the family have linked us together. Weili and her two sisters (Weiting and Weijia) used to keep to themselves during family gatherings, but yesterday, we were all happily chatting together, along with Zhao Wei and Weiting's boyfriend. Of course, the situation could have been very different if Zhao Wei was not from NY...

Back at home, as I lied in bed preparing to sleep, I thought about how Grandma had sat in the chair she always occupied, watching everyone in their interaction or inactivity. I suddenly realised how lonely she seemed. Occasionally, someone would talk to her, or she would joined in a conversation; most of the time she was alone. Then I thought of my grandfather. Before he passed away, he called me on most Saturday afternoons, asking whether I was going to his house for lunch...

Does one feel more lonely when he is alone on a deserted island or when everyone he knows is avoiding him, such as when a person is down with AIDs? Or perhaps the loneliest person is one who's physically in the company of friends/acquaintances/family, but mentally detached from them because they are all ignoring him? It's time we show more care and concern to the people around us, and not regret when they are gone.

Lonely, lonely christmas...