Bittergourds

My aunt has a daily lunch of bittergourds, tidy and porridge. As she told me what she was having, all I could think of was 'Isn't life bitter enough?'

From inside the house, family laughter filters out to the garden. Why do they have so much to laugh about, while I have so much to vent?

I am tired. Really really tired. And I'm tired of being tired.

A Time for Solidarity

We belong in the generation of nuclear families. Yet, there comes a time when solidarity calls and your family's strength expands and extends.

My aunt, the wife of my father's 3rd brother, passed on this evening. I am glad that I managed to go say my thank you and goodbye. It wasn't very much, compared to all that her family and her has done for ours in our time of need(s). But nonetheless, we do what we can.

While my cousin brother and my uncle seemed to had reconcile themselves to the fact that she would be leaving them soon, I know that grief is a strange lil bugger. It whips you upside down when you lest expect it.

I do not profess to be a grief guru - how many people have I had to bury in my lifetime? But, I would like to think that just being there, being an extra pair of hands, an extra voice in prayer and an extra shoulder to rest one's head on - these are not things you need much experience of.

We are going to go home. As tired as our bodies are tonight, we are going to rest and we are going to go home. And anyone who says otherwise, who tells me - leave it for another day - I will personally buy them a bus ticket and they can take the bus.

The family needs us. And so we will go.

Both Sides Now

In between spending time with family and trying to organise my week, I am having to chase up on work, take calls and manage instructions.

In snatches of moments, I stop and wonder why is it all on me?! Why am I the only one working more than 1 job?

Perhaps a visitor said it most accurately: My dad is free. The house is free. It's transferred to Barbara.

Now if only someone else can see it both sides now.

Wearing Black

It is without a doubt that my favoured colour is black. Yet right now, I wish that my next reason to wear black did not exist.

My aunt is dying. Seriously. As in like a given number of days left.

It is such a stark reminder that we  are all grown now. No longer the young ones running rings around our parents and grandparents.

If there was anything that I could do, I would take this away from my cousins. Cos I know when it is my turn, I wouldn't want to walk it.

But there is nothing we can do except hold their hands and hold them up as we say goodbye.

Run

I wish I could run to you right now. Right this minute. But yet, I am not sure that even if I could, I would.

And if that is the case, when you are my last port of call, my safe harbour and I cannot find it in me to do that, then where else have I left?

I need you here
I need you here to wipe away my tears to kiss away my fears
If you only knew

Girlfriend

Mandy asked me today, after exclaiming that she didn't get no credit in an earlier post, what my last post was all about. And she is the first person I have told it to in its entirety. And her reply to my statement that I do not kick up fusses was this - Maybe I don't literally but that I have been known to let my imagination get ahead of me.

If we were the hugging sort, we would have hugged (even if it was a virtual one). But because we're not, here you go girl - One post just to yourself. You know me best!

Trust Me

"This happened a few months ago but I didn't bring it up cos I didn't want you making a fuss over it. But since you've mentioned it... this was what happened."

I know I should be jumping on the "what happened" but instead, I am thinking to myself: He doesn't trust me! And it is a horrible thing to happen at 3 am - to suddenly dawn on your tiny wee self that the one person you have come to learn to trust, does not in turn fully trust you.

If my brain was less fogged by the whiskey, I would have probably flown into a rage with a "Whaddayamean I make a fuss?!" when we all know I am the most fuss-free person still existing in this day and age. I have learn that not all fuss are worth fussing about!

But regardless of the whiskey in the jar, the point is this: Why can't you trust that I am not like anyone else before this? And that this (imagine finger going from head to toe and back) is not some act, or hidden-unfussiness-ploy.

I wish I could make you see that this is ME. This is who I am. There is no evil-two-headed monster waiting to pounce on you.

I wish I could take back all your trauma and bad experiences that has brought you to where you are today. So that we do not have to be addressing this issue.

And because I shall not fuss, I shall only say it once: I wish you'd trust me enough to not compartmentalise your life the way you do now.