SINGAPORE – Inside the pages of my grandmother’s black notebook are addresses from around the world. They belong to her children and grandchildren, in Singapore and Canada, family and friends in Malaysia and Australia, former helpers from the Philippines and Indonesia.
For as long as I can remember, writing was her way of communicating with loved ones. While I was in university, her letters would focus on how I was adjusting to life overseas, which new cities I had visited and reminders to be a good son. If someone’s birthday was approaching – she also noted these dates down in that notebook – she would prepare a letter, sometimes adding a small gift like a hand-made, cross-stitch bookmark into the envelope, before dropping it into the nearby postbox.
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