It is odd having just left New York only to see her again on the inflight entertainment on the outbound flight. The usual touristy reaction "I was just there" silently escapes my lips, and I finish up the viewing of "The Devil Wears Prada".
I then realise that the while I traversed her streets as an observer and outsider, my sister lives and works there. I had introduced her to Tucson years ago as you would a teenager to the Queen. and while I now leave the shores of the United States, the teenager I brought has become a woman, a New Yorker.
It feels odd to be on the opposite end of reciprocity. Min showed me around – the eating places, the subway system, the sights, the physical locations of places I had only known from the silver screen. It was as if what I now stood where I had only seen through a window, and my sister lived on the other side.
It isn't easy letting go of the fact that not everything lies contained with the island confines of Singapore. To think that a few generations ago, before the advent of human flight, the idea of the global village would be ludicrous, and many, many lives were closely knit within a small physical space manageable by one's conscious mind. Where everything was in view and all activities within earshot. Not a million miles away with poor substitutes like email and <abbr title="Instant Messanging">IM</abbr>.
But like every good older brother, our younger sisters can only soar when you let them have free rein of the air. To have spent the week flying under her wing, rather than her under mine, was a humbling experience whose taste I imagine myself having to get accustomed to. The arrows of the young will fly further and straighter than mine. I need only to show them how to flex the bow.

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