Tomorrow
It makes me quite uncomfortable when people randomly talk about my cousin in my presence. Not that I feel like everyone should be in silent mourning or something, it just feels odd. I'm not saying that it's useless to say nice things about her now, but I find it quite awful to talk of 'could have been's and 'should have's and 'would have's, when they're never going to be now anyway. I always think it's painful to make people think of all the things that are impossible for them - if it's only going to make you more miserable, why say it? Then again, I've always been the kind to run away into denial and pretend that terrible things never happened.
Perhaps what's bothering me the most is the way they all make it sound like my cousin's life was all a waste. All they're talking about is how everyone had such hopes for her, and grand plans for her, and how if she'd finished her A-levels, she would've done this and this and now it's all gone to waste. It irks me every time I hear the phrase "What a shame."
Ok fine, it's true, but would they just stop focusing on the stuff that won't happen and remember that whatever's happened now, she led a truly beautiful life, and should be remembered as the girl who really appreciated life for what it is and was wise enough to live it to its worth?
That said, I'm glad there are so many people out there who think so too. It came as a really heartwarming surprise to me when so many bloggers seemed to crop up all over the internet overnight each with their little piece to say about my cousin. I always figured she was quite popular, but it amazed me just how many people's lives she touched . She seems to have had a massive following; in London, in Hanoi and goodness knows where else.
I'm not going to say her life was complete, but I believe her life was fulfilled as could be to that point. She was, you could say, the typical teenager. She had the high-school romance, the partying, the friends, the life and schooling abroad.. no, this is stupid, I'm not going to make a list of all the things she did. Truth be told, I don't even KNOW all the things she accomplished in her brief life, but from the occasional glimpses I saw of it, it always seemed to be brimming and bubbling over with...well, vitality. The point I'm driving at is, at least she didn't waste it all away on a 'I can always do it when I'm older' attitude. For that, I am happy for her.
~~~
My cousin and I weren't what one might call terribly close. When we were kids we used to play a lot whenever I went back to Vietnam for Christmas holidays (the only time I ever spent with my extended family). We would try to sneak into our grandparents' room to watch gory medical dramas with them, and we'd sit together and listen to our elder cousin reading comic books to us. She would tease me then, because I couldn't read Vietnamese and she could since she went to Vietnamese school. In return, I mocked her for being a class lower than me, despite our being in the same age group.
One incident I remember really clearly, because everytime I come home my aunt jokingly scolds us for it. When the third floor was added to the old house, my cousin and I played in the new upstairs room. We didn't like our younger cousin then, and we'd always lock her out of the room. She'd pound on the door and scream curses at us, and we'd sit inside giggling like idiots. Then my cousin would yell back through the door at the little one - I was always the meek one who didn't know swear words in my mother tongue.
Whenever I think of my cousin, my immediate association is The Rock (yes, that The Rock, Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson). As we grew older my cousin and I drifted apart somewhat. One summer I came back to Vietnam and I came over to her house for a sleepover. To avoid some awkwardness we watched The Scorpion King, and we all squirmed at that scene where he's buried to his neck in the sand. I don't really remember much else of the movie. I do remember though that later she taught me to play a strange Vietnamese card game, and that I loved her room because she had one of those awesome sponge puzzle carpets all over her floor. I remember how the next day we walked to a swimming pool not far from her house and mucked about like idiots in the water and afterwards when we walked back home she stopped and bought baozi for us to munch on and we talked at length about the little quail egg in the filling.
After that I stopped returning to Vietnam as often, and stopped seeing my cousin regularly. Around this time she must have moved to England, since our visits back home had stopped coinciding. Or maybe she was just really busy with her studies - she was always going to zillions of lessons. No wonder she was the smartest girl in class. Once my aunt coerced us to have a random photoshoot by the motorcycles in the front yard. We both protested lots and thought it was stupid. Those may well be the only photos I have together with my cousin - and I can't find them anymore.
The last time I saw my cousin was during Christmas two years ago. We didn't really talk much. I don't think we ever really talked much. We just sat next to each other reading manga. I always liked to think that although outwardly we weren't very chummy we were close in our own special way. She'd always been my favourite cousin, and I think we just got along well together (maybe because we were the only ones of the exact same age). That time we went to pick up my youngest cousin together, and then we just sat around at home. She was learning Japanese. I remember, because I was really jealous (at the time I was desperately trying to get my mother to agree to Japanese lessons for me, and here was my cousin, sitting so coolly and flipping through her vocab). I also recall admiring her extraordinarily pretty and neat kana, especially the character for 'te'. Funny what odd little things one fixates on.
Why am I writing all this? I don't know. There's a saying, 'the palest ink is better than the best memory'. I had hoped that maybe by writing everything down I could remind myself of those times. Looking back on it though, it makes me quite sad that these are the only things I can clearly remember about my cousin. A lot of our bonding happened at too early a stage for me to remember anymore, and after that... well. That's the tragedy of taking things for granted. I had always thought that we'd make up for this little drifting gap when we went to uni. We had once planned to go to RMIT together, but dismissed it as a stupid joke. When my cousin moved to London and got accepted into UCL it was decided that we'd rent out an apartment together and live there for the three years of uni - we would've made up for all those years of silent manga reading. I've never even heard my cousin speak English. She said she didn't want to speak to me in English until she truly perfected it over the course of her studies in London.
But, I digress. I promised myself I wouldn't use the 'would have', 'could have' phrases, nor the 'I wish' sentiment.
Anyway, she was cremated yesterday. I think my auntie and uncle are going to try to bring her ashes back home to Vietnam tomorrow. I fear talking to them; I'm really terrible with feelings. I have no idea how to express my own feelings and I don't know how to comfort people. I don't want to seem cold and uncaring, but that's probably the message I'm sending across now anyway.
I could end with something poetic, like I hope wherever she is now, she's happy. But then again, I don't believe in things like the afterlife. So all I can say is, what I've already said, and that is that I'm glad and happy for her for not having been foolish enough to waste away what little she had of life. That's quite clunky and graceless and totally not poignant, but that's just how I am.
May she rest in peace and be remembered as long as all those whose lives she touched still live.
Perhaps what's bothering me the most is the way they all make it sound like my cousin's life was all a waste. All they're talking about is how everyone had such hopes for her, and grand plans for her, and how if she'd finished her A-levels, she would've done this and this and now it's all gone to waste. It irks me every time I hear the phrase "What a shame."
Ok fine, it's true, but would they just stop focusing on the stuff that won't happen and remember that whatever's happened now, she led a truly beautiful life, and should be remembered as the girl who really appreciated life for what it is and was wise enough to live it to its worth?
That said, I'm glad there are so many people out there who think so too. It came as a really heartwarming surprise to me when so many bloggers seemed to crop up all over the internet overnight each with their little piece to say about my cousin. I always figured she was quite popular, but it amazed me just how many people's lives she touched . She seems to have had a massive following; in London, in Hanoi and goodness knows where else.
I'm not going to say her life was complete, but I believe her life was fulfilled as could be to that point. She was, you could say, the typical teenager. She had the high-school romance, the partying, the friends, the life and schooling abroad.. no, this is stupid, I'm not going to make a list of all the things she did. Truth be told, I don't even KNOW all the things she accomplished in her brief life, but from the occasional glimpses I saw of it, it always seemed to be brimming and bubbling over with...well, vitality. The point I'm driving at is, at least she didn't waste it all away on a 'I can always do it when I'm older' attitude. For that, I am happy for her.
~~~
My cousin and I weren't what one might call terribly close. When we were kids we used to play a lot whenever I went back to Vietnam for Christmas holidays (the only time I ever spent with my extended family). We would try to sneak into our grandparents' room to watch gory medical dramas with them, and we'd sit together and listen to our elder cousin reading comic books to us. She would tease me then, because I couldn't read Vietnamese and she could since she went to Vietnamese school. In return, I mocked her for being a class lower than me, despite our being in the same age group.
One incident I remember really clearly, because everytime I come home my aunt jokingly scolds us for it. When the third floor was added to the old house, my cousin and I played in the new upstairs room. We didn't like our younger cousin then, and we'd always lock her out of the room. She'd pound on the door and scream curses at us, and we'd sit inside giggling like idiots. Then my cousin would yell back through the door at the little one - I was always the meek one who didn't know swear words in my mother tongue.
Whenever I think of my cousin, my immediate association is The Rock (yes, that The Rock, Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson). As we grew older my cousin and I drifted apart somewhat. One summer I came back to Vietnam and I came over to her house for a sleepover. To avoid some awkwardness we watched The Scorpion King, and we all squirmed at that scene where he's buried to his neck in the sand. I don't really remember much else of the movie. I do remember though that later she taught me to play a strange Vietnamese card game, and that I loved her room because she had one of those awesome sponge puzzle carpets all over her floor. I remember how the next day we walked to a swimming pool not far from her house and mucked about like idiots in the water and afterwards when we walked back home she stopped and bought baozi for us to munch on and we talked at length about the little quail egg in the filling.
After that I stopped returning to Vietnam as often, and stopped seeing my cousin regularly. Around this time she must have moved to England, since our visits back home had stopped coinciding. Or maybe she was just really busy with her studies - she was always going to zillions of lessons. No wonder she was the smartest girl in class. Once my aunt coerced us to have a random photoshoot by the motorcycles in the front yard. We both protested lots and thought it was stupid. Those may well be the only photos I have together with my cousin - and I can't find them anymore.
The last time I saw my cousin was during Christmas two years ago. We didn't really talk much. I don't think we ever really talked much. We just sat next to each other reading manga. I always liked to think that although outwardly we weren't very chummy we were close in our own special way. She'd always been my favourite cousin, and I think we just got along well together (maybe because we were the only ones of the exact same age). That time we went to pick up my youngest cousin together, and then we just sat around at home. She was learning Japanese. I remember, because I was really jealous (at the time I was desperately trying to get my mother to agree to Japanese lessons for me, and here was my cousin, sitting so coolly and flipping through her vocab). I also recall admiring her extraordinarily pretty and neat kana, especially the character for 'te'. Funny what odd little things one fixates on.
Why am I writing all this? I don't know. There's a saying, 'the palest ink is better than the best memory'. I had hoped that maybe by writing everything down I could remind myself of those times. Looking back on it though, it makes me quite sad that these are the only things I can clearly remember about my cousin. A lot of our bonding happened at too early a stage for me to remember anymore, and after that... well. That's the tragedy of taking things for granted. I had always thought that we'd make up for this little drifting gap when we went to uni. We had once planned to go to RMIT together, but dismissed it as a stupid joke. When my cousin moved to London and got accepted into UCL it was decided that we'd rent out an apartment together and live there for the three years of uni - we would've made up for all those years of silent manga reading. I've never even heard my cousin speak English. She said she didn't want to speak to me in English until she truly perfected it over the course of her studies in London.
But, I digress. I promised myself I wouldn't use the 'would have', 'could have' phrases, nor the 'I wish' sentiment.
Anyway, she was cremated yesterday. I think my auntie and uncle are going to try to bring her ashes back home to Vietnam tomorrow. I fear talking to them; I'm really terrible with feelings. I have no idea how to express my own feelings and I don't know how to comfort people. I don't want to seem cold and uncaring, but that's probably the message I'm sending across now anyway.
I could end with something poetic, like I hope wherever she is now, she's happy. But then again, I don't believe in things like the afterlife. So all I can say is, what I've already said, and that is that I'm glad and happy for her for not having been foolish enough to waste away what little she had of life. That's quite clunky and graceless and totally not poignant, but that's just how I am.
May she rest in peace and be remembered as long as all those whose lives she touched still live.