Well, all good things must come to an end before better things can take their place.
In a little more than 48 hours, I’ll be on a plane to China, again, switching lives once more. Summer is not over, but my time in France is. Almost.
It’s been a fantastic summer – consisting mainly of rest, family reunions, quality food, friends, spur-of-the-moment trips, new encounters, nice surprises. It’s been, amongst other things, the longest summer I’ve spent in France in many years.
Do I miss China? I miss my life there, yes – I have more leeway, let’s say – it’s easier to get around, cheaper, and busier (job, music, massages!), and there are definitely more friends around to spend an evening with. There’s a different me over in Shanghai. A me who’s more in charge of itself.
I’ll miss my family of course. The proximity. Their being close to me. Their voices, new words, old & new conversations weaving their idiosyncrasies through our family’s fabric. When I’m here, I draw the old contours of myself with new, hopefully wiser, more assured strokes. An old painting looking different under an ever-changing light.
There’s also a little being that I’ll miss even more: my niece. I want her to remember me as the “Uncle in China.” I want to start sculpting the myth – full of travels, mysteries to be unveiled, lands to be discovered, planes to be taken (and feared, and enjoyed), paths to be trodden together, sharing the tacit understanding of a joy beyond words when one’s eyes meet a secret, beautiful place. I trust my sister will help nurture the story behind the story, and tell her adventures of mine (and maybe, one day, of hers, too) before they go to sleep.
What are my projects? More music, definitely (setting up a band with friends). More travels (Cambodia, Sichuan Province, Brunei, … maybe South America again…). Better teaching. In two years, the big jump.
I would like to express my thanks to: my parents, my sister, my grandmothers, Clyde, Eric, Stéphane, Vichhay… And many others. Also, I am not forgetting the departed. They’re always with me, especially before I close my eyes at night. I miss you too dearly.
I need to go back to writing again. That is the most painful thought: to remember that, over some time, without even noticing it, I just stopped writing.
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Who understands this post’s title reference?
