One of my earliest memories... I was at the airport, people walking everywhere, staring at my grandfather; a tan, lean old man with a balding head. He picked me up, greeting me in Cantonese. A bug smile fell on his face. Although it was winter in Hong Kong, he was wearing the clothes people wore in Singapore. His bespectacled eyes were shining. I patted him on the forehead, feeling the old wrinkly skin beneath my hand. Despite being old, he was strong enough to carry me, something my deceased paternal grandfather couldn't do.
Every time I visit Hong Kong, I would always play in the private playground built for my cousin and her family. There were 4 playgrounds in total. My favourite was the swing. The chains supporting the seat was old and rusty, yet sturdy and strong. The seat was big for me. As I played, I could always see the pool in front of me, with the seats and umbrellas. I would see my brother and cousin playing in the other playgrounds, playing the see-saw. It was really quiet as there was only the 3 of us. But it was really fun.
I used to live in Hong Kong, in my cousin's house. It was a private property. Her house was really big. From the living room, I could see the bedrooms clearly. Outside her house was a pool, and also a tennis court. Her house had an amazing view, as I could see the skyscrapers of Hong Kong outside her window. Paintings done by my cousin was hung everywhere in the house. The dining table was always filled with delicious food.
And these, were my earliest memories.
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