Went to send my parents off at the airport yesterday. They are going down to L.A for a cousin's wedding. And there I was standing at the departure gate watching them leave for a short 1hr plus domestic flight watching them as they make their way through the long lines at custom and then the security check, suddenly feeling emotional, watching the two of them, each a luggage in hand. Suddenly feeling protective of them, like they are the children, and I the parent. Suddenly realizing that they have grown older, or perhaps, it is I who have grown older, and now they are the ones who need to be taken care of.
Suddenly understanding that filial piety is not a responsibility that is based on obligation, it is a responsibility that springs from tenderness. It is something that I didn't understand when I was younger, but it is something that I do now. It comes with seeing your parents' vulnerability. It comes with standing at the departure gate of the airport, feeling a worry eat at you as your parents struggle with their carry-ons, negotiate with the custom officer, realizing that this scene is a familiar one, time and time again, years ago, it is just that now, the roles are reversed.
By: Nippy | Monday, November 21, 2011 at 5:54 AM | | 
It gets dark very early now. By five pm, the sky already looks like an eight o'clock sky. When I got off work today, my co-workers and I had to stumble around to get to the door. We were musing that the TransAmerica pyramid looked so pretty all lit up. I like it when it gets dark like this when I get off work, because I know, Christmas is around the corner. It is lovely, this cold darkness, it is what I've always associated with excitement. It is always around this time of the year when I feel that fluttering in my chest like something is about to happen, the air smells different, the nights always feel more quiet, and expectant. In contrast the short days with the glaring white light of the sun now angled so close to the northern hemisphere feels uneasy, and in my mum's words "is like a searchlight." There is something strange about this light that burns the eyes, but not the skin.
But the nights, they are spectacular. I feel lucky just to sit in the light of my room, knowing that this darkness is so still outside. Even the reflection on the glass seems especially black and glossy, like warm dark water I could dive into. Coming home, I saw my neighbor, a little boy (of six perhaps?), peeking out the window, at nothing, just looking at the darkness. I couldn't see his backlit face, but I guessed that his expression was one of astonishment. Because, this November darkness is quite lovely.
And now, to listen to
These days by Nico with a cup of hot tea..Ah...
By: Nippy | Tuesday, November 15, 2011 at 1:22 PM | |
