Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Emah

Emah.

I miss the way u make nice food for me on that brown table in the kitchen. Your Or Tau Iu Bak, Steamed Fish, Ang Zhau Soup, where you mixed them all together with rice and mash it the way i like it. You always put it in the stainless steel plate that I love to use until now.

I miss the smell of your skin. I can still remember clearly how it smells like.

I miss the stories you tell me about the World War and when you were a child.

I miss the way you use your tissue and wipe your eyes. Ever so delicately.

I miss when you used to scold me whenever i climbed up the bathtub to look through the hole in the wall from the bathroom.

I miss the way you speak Hokkien with the Hockchew slang, there are many words that I speak the way i hear it from you.

I miss the powder you put on your face from the yellow square box. I also used to put it on my face so that I can look as lovely as you.

I miss the way you call my name. Nobody will call it the same as you do.

I wish I can be there now.



I really miss you.

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