The Crossing
I'm sorry I've been kind of quiet this week, but my Great Uncle Peter passed away yesterday and thanks to all sorts of weird, extended family, intra-generational tenseness at the upper echelons, I hadn't even realised how ill he was. I always thought there would be more time to see him again, but you always think that, right?
He was a gentleman and a rev head who worked at one of Singapore's most iconic hotels for decades. One of my happiest childhood memories of visiting Singapore involved him taking me to a hotel employees' kids and grandkids day where we fished for magnetic fish, and played other daggy pre-pre-digital games. He cooked a mean T-bone steak and had a laugh bigger than his body and I will miss him dreadfully.
I used to read a lot of myth and fable when I was little, and it's comforting right now to think that all that separates us from the people we once knew is a wide, dark, smooth flowing river. We're just on opposite banks, waving and hollering.
Wishing you a safe crossing, Great Uncle. See you round.
