Meeting in Seattle

Before deciding to suddenly head home from Seattle, I had originally planned to meet my relatives in Seattle and spend two days with them in the Emerald City. I planned to take them around a bit, perhaps go to the wonderful Boeing museum just outside of time, and to share with them the wonders of fresh seafood the city is famous for. After this, I was supposed to go back to Vancouver, and “bring them” Christmas.

But all this changed when I heard about mum’s latest health condition. And without dwelling too much on it, I bought a ticket straight out of Seattle to Taipei. Though, I felt terrible having to abandon my relatives, and I apologised many times. I felt

Like I was letting my cousins down, especially as they seem to enjoy spending time with me, and enjoy my company. They actually told me that they were looking forward to long nights playing Risk, but now they have to make do without…

We did meet in Seattle as planned, and in the few hours we spent together, I showed them a bit around down. Down to the harbour front we went, and enjoyed a sumptuous meal of crabs, clams and mussels at a restaurant I had previously gone to by myself. Food indeed does taste better when shared. After that, we took a long walk around the market place area, and along the busy shopping areas that were decked with colourful Christmas lighting and decorations. 

At the hotel, just before I was about to leave, we exchanged gifts. For my cousins and auntie I had prepared a few small gifts, which made them very happy. A painting of a typical streetscape in Montreal by a local artist, a Times world atlas, and a few momentos of Seattle’s Mariners baseball team, since my cousins are really into the game. And I wrote a card, wishing them all the best settling down in Canada, and telling them to enjoy the spirit of Christmas—even though my sudden change of plans means I will no longer be able to spend the holidays with them.

My cousins gave me a gift together, beautifully wrapped with purple paper. It was a black, leather wallet, with a unique tattoo-like pattern of red roses and guns. “It’s special, because no one else has anything like it,” my cousin said.

Then my auntie took out a piece of paper and handed it too me. “This is for you,” she said, “Please keep it.”

“This is too much,” I said after seeing the cheque that I was given. “I really cannot take this…” But my aunt insisted, and pushed the piece of paper back into my hand again.

I never expected it, and what you least or never expect surprises you the most.

My aunt pushed the cheque back into my hand, and said: “You’ve done so much for us. You’ve really taken care of your cousin over the past year, and made so many trips to go see him…”

But I did just what I thought I could, just as any one else who cared would under the circumstances. I mean how much of an effort is it to go see a child who is living alone and who has just moved to a completely foreign land? I know what it is like to live alone at such a young age, because I’ve gone through it… How much effort does it take to once in a while call or write to encourage someone who is down and feeling he is falling behind in school because of language problems? Any support, any help, even if it’s from a distance, I’m sure can do wonders for a teen with low self-esteem…

And all the trips I’ve taken him on… I was going anyways, and having some company really did not make much of a difference, but in fact made it all the merrier. And I really wanted my cousin to get out more, to see more of the world, and to realise that his new adoptive homeland is a wonderful place with lots to offer, so that he’d settle down and feel more at home here.

“Your uncle and I want you to take this,” my auntie said, “You’ve done a lot for us…”

“I really cannot take this…” I said, even though I knew I could not get away without taking it. All that money can be used to fund my cousins living costs, go toward their tuition fees, go toward their education. I really did not deserve this.

After a lot of pushing back and forth, I relented, and put the cheque away. I put it inside a leather wallet that my cousins had just given me as a Christmas gift. But inside I thought of a way to ‘dispose’ of cheque, discreetly and sneakily. A cheque never cashed is a cheque never written, correct?