To Write a Life

I ventured a "passing remark" about becoming a full-time writer to my mother tonight, and she said she didn't mind as long as I got a "real" job before that. Her reasons were that a writer needed something to write about. Some "real" experience.
I can't say I fully agree with her. The more pressing danger for us in this generation is not having time to form coherent thoughts about life, rather than not having anything to do. Truth be told, the lack of blog updates the last few days was due to my having too many things to do, and not that I had nothing to write about.
Uncle Oliver and cousin Dylan came into Singapore from San Diego (where they live) a few hours ago. Whilst waiting for my uncle I could only imagine the immense task of travelling with a two-year-old and a ton of luggage on a 20+ hour flight. Uncle Oliver appeared at the gate alone with luggage in hand. I was half-afraid he had left his son inside a locker at LAX (Los Angeles International Airport) just to save himself the hassle.
Dylan appeared a few meters behind. Let me correct that. A stroller appeared through the immigration counter. I could just see two small feet behind the stroller. When the tiny shoes went into a tippytoed position, a disproportionately large head and two eyes popped up over the top. Dylan looked every bit the seasoned traveller pushing his trolley. A really short seasoned traveller. He <strong>was</strong> coming out of a short transit in Japan.
I drove the both of them to my aunt's place, where they will be putting up for the next two weeks. After carrying all the luggage up and playing with baby Dylan a bit, I had to head home for some shuteye. (ok you caught me blogging this entry, smartypants). Dylan's eyes began to tear and he cried "kor kor", which means older brother in our Chinese dialect.
Man, it was hard to leave. I've barely met the kid, but he trusted me enough to hold my hand and repeat words I spoke to him. It sucked that I had to leave, but parking laws in Singapore prohibited me from parking the car indefinitely in the loading / unloading zone. I left, but not without three rounds of goodbyes and hi-fives.
I'll be back Dylan. Hang in there.

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