"ibu, when are you going to blog?"
"Mak Teh, update your blog lah"
The problems with blogging when prople know who you are is that ...well, it is difficult not to make your thoughts known and not have people who know you say "hey, she is writing about me!". In other words, you would still need to filter your words which means you can't write the things you want to write and not affect the people you know. Right?
But since they insist that you write... well, okay... but don't say i did not tell you so. :))
There are things in your life that you know one day you have to let go. For instance, i know my mom would leave me permanently one day. It is easy to count my mother's birthday. I just add 30 years onto my own birthday. In 10 days' time would be my 54th birthday. 54! If nothing change, i would be taking my EPF in one year's time. I used to say that i would withddraw those money, splurge it all .... because i expect to die in that year. Saying it years ago sounds so funny but when that figure is only about 1 year from now, it no longer feels like a joke. The fact that God has given me this so much years is already a miracle in itself. It means, looking back over those years and evaluating if you have done everything in your checklist or did life turns out as what you imagine it to be when you were young.
Ok. Unfortunately, oday''s blog wasn't about that. I digress.
It is about my mom and dad.
A couple of weeks after she left, I cleaned her room. Somehow i never do that when she was around. I felt it was an invasion of her privacy, an invasion of her space that she shared with my dad. There were still many things that i have not sorted out since my dad's death; certain remnants that i could not throw away until i realised that my own death is looming. So much stuffs from my own parents and that on top of my own clutter; my children would have a hell of a time cleaning our mess.
But in every "mess" tells a story. I found my dad's diary; infact two. He uses our full name in his diary. and i am glad that he wrote his diaries because now i can still have a part of him. One dated while i was still in college. He gave me about half of the pension he received, for my allowance. Truly a wonderful father uncomplainingly bringing up 9 children and trying to make ends meet.
He wrote about my parents' sadness having to let his son fly thousand of miles away.
Now you, my darling children, can have tiny pieces of your grandparents as part of your own memories about them at the time when you were not even born.
I attended a grief workshop way before rummaging through my parents' stuff. I thought i had closure of my dad's death yet when we went into small group and i became the psuedo client, i recall the time of his death and the pain is still acute.
I shared to the big group the guilt i felt for what i thought i was partly to blame in hastening his death but a kind participant who identified herself as a doctor came up to me dispelled my misconception. What a relief!
So my children, whatever happens after our death, you will always feel guilty for thinking you did not do enough for your parents. Please don't! We as parents have done the best we could under the circumstances, to raise you. All we want is for you all to be happy and lead a peaceful life. THAT would make us happy...well, at least that would make me happy... so that the cycle of life continues. Ibu loves you all very much. That includes my nieces and nephews, if you are also reading this. :)))
which means, i have to go to today's wedding. My work can wait.
"Mak Teh, update your blog lah"
The problems with blogging when prople know who you are is that ...well, it is difficult not to make your thoughts known and not have people who know you say "hey, she is writing about me!". In other words, you would still need to filter your words which means you can't write the things you want to write and not affect the people you know. Right?
But since they insist that you write... well, okay... but don't say i did not tell you so. :))
There are things in your life that you know one day you have to let go. For instance, i know my mom would leave me permanently one day. It is easy to count my mother's birthday. I just add 30 years onto my own birthday. In 10 days' time would be my 54th birthday. 54! If nothing change, i would be taking my EPF in one year's time. I used to say that i would withddraw those money, splurge it all .... because i expect to die in that year. Saying it years ago sounds so funny but when that figure is only about 1 year from now, it no longer feels like a joke. The fact that God has given me this so much years is already a miracle in itself. It means, looking back over those years and evaluating if you have done everything in your checklist or did life turns out as what you imagine it to be when you were young.
Ok. Unfortunately, oday''s blog wasn't about that. I digress.
It is about my mom and dad.
A couple of weeks after she left, I cleaned her room. Somehow i never do that when she was around. I felt it was an invasion of her privacy, an invasion of her space that she shared with my dad. There were still many things that i have not sorted out since my dad's death; certain remnants that i could not throw away until i realised that my own death is looming. So much stuffs from my own parents and that on top of my own clutter; my children would have a hell of a time cleaning our mess.
But in every "mess" tells a story. I found my dad's diary; infact two. He uses our full name in his diary. and i am glad that he wrote his diaries because now i can still have a part of him. One dated while i was still in college. He gave me about half of the pension he received, for my allowance. Truly a wonderful father uncomplainingly bringing up 9 children and trying to make ends meet.
He wrote about my parents' sadness having to let his son fly thousand of miles away.
I attended a grief workshop way before rummaging through my parents' stuff. I thought i had closure of my dad's death yet when we went into small group and i became the psuedo client, i recall the time of his death and the pain is still acute.
I shared to the big group the guilt i felt for what i thought i was partly to blame in hastening his death but a kind participant who identified herself as a doctor came up to me dispelled my misconception. What a relief!
So my children, whatever happens after our death, you will always feel guilty for thinking you did not do enough for your parents. Please don't! We as parents have done the best we could under the circumstances, to raise you. All we want is for you all to be happy and lead a peaceful life. THAT would make us happy...well, at least that would make me happy... so that the cycle of life continues. Ibu loves you all very much. That includes my nieces and nephews, if you are also reading this. :)))
which means, i have to go to today's wedding. My work can wait.
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