3 Fs*

(yet another b.p)

This photo, taken last Friday, is my current favourite with Cheeks.

It shows us sitting outside some random Chinese diner at Leicester Square, waiting for Papa. We were in Chinatown to meet Aunty Mimi who had kindly organised a farewell dinner for us. She'd invited her son Pat and his gf along so that she could introduce us all (the adventurous couple went on a year-long sabbatical to travel the world). Papa had called earlier to say he would be early and would see us at the arranged meeting point. Clearly, he's not (bah!).

It was tough finding a good spot to wait for him. We were forced to uproot ourselves several times because typical chinese men were lighting up everywhere and blowing clouds of bad, BAD SHS in our direction (bah bah!). If SHS wasn't bad enough, it had to rain as well. It was a good thing we went to a box-office outlet earlier to get some brochures on the musicals. We covered our heads with them. To amuse ourselves, we made up silly songs (shasha white sheep have you any wool? Beauty and the fish...lalalala... Beauty and the goat, Beauty was a dope (just joking! heh)), we commented on the pictures on the brochures, we watched people dart in and out of shops, desperately trying to find shelter from the rain.

That's when I took the photo.

As we sat there waiting, I thought about something Zubeyde said to me - that Cheeks will not remember any of this. Not her life in London, the holidays here and around Europe, not Leicester Square, not this moment we shared under the rain.

I suppose that's why I'm a firm believer in taking photographs. A moment, however fleeting or inconsequential, is immortalized - forever captured in print or stored in softcopy, on a harddrive somewhere.

We need triggers.

Because, we forget. I forget. Although I take a gazillion photos a day and blog about some of my experiences, some events have already started to fade into oblivion...

And I think of how Life goes one full circle.

Eversince Cheeks was born, I have been stocking up memories for her. I know she won't remember her early years so the onus is on me to do the remembering for her. I'll tell her what her first sounds were, the blood transfusion she had to go through as a 5-day old infant, her first cruise and how tiny she was that we could bathe her in the bathroom sink, that Nainai was the first to introduce dragonfruit to her, Gonggong and Grandma had to tie the handles of ALL the drawers and cabinets in the house when it was their turn to babysit her, her favourite phrases at age 3 - 'because that's why' which later became 'because you see'. How she loved to end her sentences with 'alrighty!', say hi to Anna at the drycleaners every time we passed her shop, look out for Blendina at Tesco, loved the kids meal at Bertie and Boo's, the many, many happy moments Mummy spent with her while looking after her full-time...

In time to come, as my own memory starts to ebb - dates I once remembered at the back of my hand, holidays, family anecdotes, daily happenings - they will suddenly be a strain to remember. By that time, I hope Cheeks would have accumulated a treasure chest filled with lovely, precious family memories.

I hope she will take my old, wrinkled hand in hers, and walk me through our happy past. Remember, Mum? she'll ask. She'll search my face for some sign of recollection but I'll (probably) display none.

But it won't matter. Because I have her to rely on for all our memories.

Her memories will be mine. As mine are hers.

And they will be enough for the both of us.

* Favourite Friday Fotos