As the years go by, it seems that the number of personal or family photos I post gradually dwindles, almost to a trickle. The everyday adventures of the early years of parenting seem at first to burst forth like an open dam. The memory of every dimple and smile , first laugh , first taste , first step , first fall , first penance , first tragedy , first friend, first day of school ... feels so fleeting and precious, I want to hold on to each one for as long as possible. The long days begin to quicken in their momentum, and soft little chubby arms encircling my neck soon extend into long lean muscled limbs resting heavily around my shoulders. I don't have to hold their hand any more when we cross the street. But they hold mine. L ove's pain grows sweeter with each passing hour, day, and year. A fleeting image captured of a moment, pales in comparison to the truth of everything it means. Some things are just too good. " ...I never tell them about our lives. You know why? ...
In the years to come, long after my nearest and dearest are gone, I imagine I’ll still make a pilgrimage to my little hometown in the Land Below the Wind—just to indulge in a plate of one of these lovelies: | Tuaran Mee | Beaufort Mee | Sandakan Mee | They say noodles represent long life. I'm quite content to live the average human lifespan, but if things are going well, I wouldn’t mind lingering a little longer before taking my final leave. So if a plate of noodles holds the secret elixir to to an extra moment or two, I’ll gladly slurp up a bowl—especially if it’s one of the famed noodles named after these three towns: Tuaran, Beaufort, and Sandakan. There is nothing on this earth that tastes anything like them. Though knowing the many calorific ingredients that go into each of these noodles, indulging in them regularly probably won’t lead to the sought after longevity. But having tasted them all, I can say this—my life feels more complete.