Songs of Oz

It has just been fabulous, spending time with family in Melbourne. I have learnt so much of my heritage just listening to my mum and uncle reminiscing about the past.

Stories of my grandparents and my great-grandmother and being able to see the parallels between my paternal and maternal family histories have given me insights into what made my parents into the people they were, and why I was brought up the way I was.

This visit to Melbourne is in recognition of the fleetingness and fragility of life, its quicksilver changeability, and nothing bears witness to this more than the variable spring weather.

Given the cold and gloomy welcome we received last Sunday, yesterday's warm sunniness was welcomed enthusiastically not just by me but by everyone in the city.

It was easy to give thanks for the beauty of the day, especially when the day that preceded it was grey and cold. Although, I have to say I enjoyed the so-called bad weather for it was a nice change for the unbearable heat of Singapore's weather.

This trip to Melbourne has made me realize how vital it is to celebrate life as it unfolds. To sing songs of both joy and sadness, lifting praise to the Almighty, no matter what comes my way.

That life is filled with births and deaths and I should embrace them all and not get too attached to anything.

It's a little harder when it comes to people, not to get attached, but if I believe in Christ, then I also believe that death is defeated by Christ's salvific love. So even the thought that someone I love is dying should not dismay me too much for I know we will all be reunited in time.

Instead I should focus on the now, the living, living in the moment and to celebrate each day with song.

I sing with gladness of spring,
The lush green hills wrapped in fresh, crisp air.
I admire the sun's golden-soft glow,
That makes warm and beautiful all things:
Blushing camellias and flirtatious tulips
Colour my world with giddy lightness,
People smiling from the sheer pleasure of living,
I cannot help but laugh
At the giggles of delight that fill the air
Of wiggling boys mimicking tipping teapots.
The sweetness of life is hauntingly rich
With bread broken and wine drunk
Familial love drenched in Eucharistic joy.
If only this spring could last forever.