Does heaven have a translator?

At the time of my grandfather’s passing, I made him a booklet describing all of the things that I had done during my holiday in China. On the last page, I wrote him a goodbye letter, wishing him a safe journey to the other side.

When I showed this to my dad, he pointed out an obvious flaw: How could Agong understand the letter if it was written in English?

The answer was obvious. There’s a translator in heaven, translating all the foreign letters written by the grandchildren who were raised overseas.

This idea inspired an image of an elderly man walking in heaven, trying to find a translator to help him read his granddaughter’s letter.

I’d like to think that the booklet has kept Agong thoroughly entertained and that he is watching from afar, reminding me to keep the light in my spirit.

Writing is like having a conversation

Writing a story is like having a conversation with a friend who has stopped listening to you. It’s like writing them a letter about all the things you wish you could say, and then halfway through, those words turn themselves into a story.

That’s the wonderful trick with writing. You can finish all those unfinished conversations you never had, say the things you always wanted to say, and get to be right about everything. All these things can be achieved through writing. 

I first discovered this when I started writing a letter to a guy who I liked. There were certain things that I wanted to get off my chest and the more I wrote, the more I started creating stories that made me forget about my own problems. I think my childhood-self gave me this idea. I used to write notes to my dad whenever I had upset him and I’d leave them on the dining room table for him to read. 

Over the years I’ve discovered that writing is my soft spot, the place where I allow myself to become vulnerable. In the safety of words, the best parts of me shine, and in my words I can trace my emotions back to their roots. My characters are the carriers of my emotions and through them I find a way out. That’s what storytelling has always been for me, a way to tell someone how I feel.

But wouldn’t it be nice if one day I didn’t have to write letters to people anymore, what if I could just tell someone how I felt and they would stay there and listen.