Questa è Enida

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It’s never easy to tell her that after all the hope that floats and all the roads she has taken to where she thought recovery was…she was actually about to jump off the cliff. She has nowhere to go now but down and hope that she’d grow wings before she lands. For she has cancer.

I know she has wings. She is my mother.

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There’s so much to tell about an afternoon with a man who’s no longer wearing our wedding band. So much. But I am drained of words to even begin telling myself that we met, we hugged for the longest time, we sat, we talked, we touched and we cried. Yes, the two of us. I am home now and still asking myself, did we really? This song, playing on the radio on my way home was just a home-run for me.

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Sometimes When We Touch

You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
I’d rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie
And who am I to judge you
On what you say or do?
I’m only just beginning to see the real you

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And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

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Romance and all its strategy
Leaves me battling with my pride
But through the insecurity
Some tenderness survives
I’m just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prize fighter
Still trapped within my youth

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And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

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At times I’d like to break you
And drive you to your knees
At times I’d like to break through
And hold you endlessly

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At times I understand you
And I know how hard you’ve tried
I’ve watched while love commands you
And I’ve watched love pass you by

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At times I think we’re drifters
Still searching for a friend
A brother or a sister
But then the passion flares again

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And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides

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When we met up and sat down for a few hours today to finally talk for the first time in probably years, I knew… it was then that our fears and dreams collided. I wished we had sat down and talked like that a year ago. Things would have been different. Fears and dreams, or even moon and stars could collide for all that collision’s worth… things would have been different.

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I’m hurting. And I am tired of hurting. I have been strong. And I am tired of being strong too. So when I am still crying and tired of crying… I asked God as to why He made me and filled me with so much love, it hurts. I haven’t got any answer. So I am praying. And pray that I am never going to be tired of praying, and tired of loving.

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I am taking that walk again tomorrow and I know, God will be running towards me – with or without an answer.

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“If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.”

~ Anonymous

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Was just taking it easy today at home. Well, not that easy. Called Chia, the locksmith, to get our sliding doors lock fixed. Bibik accidentally broke the key when she was trying to get the doors opened on the Raya morn, and half of the key was stuck in the keyhole. For two nights, those sliding doors were guarded by my #7 bro, Lam. Anyway, Chia came and Chia left with the whole lock removed from the door. Okay, whatever! He’s the locksmith. I am just a lovesmith. We were on two different categories if I ever made it to the Yellowpages.

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So Chia came, Chia left and Chia was supposed to come back later in the afternoon with the lock fixed. But Chia didn’t show up until I was about to leave for supper at Lil Sis’s house. And on top of it, Chia forgot to bring the duplicate key he made for the fixed lock! Alaaa Chia ni. So Chia is coming again tomorrow morning with the key. At the moment, the sliding doors are just wedged by an axe and a broken piece of wood from our old bed. The alarm is set, no worries, neither Chia nor Chickadee can come in without waking me up first tonight.

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So we had supper at Lil Sis’s house, only 14km away from home. Like always, Kitreena and I would have our little chat while I am driving. Tonight, wearing her sweet baby blue baju kurung, she got thinking again about her self.

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Mom, I am half Asian.
Yes, you are. Who told you that?
You did!
I did? I forgot I did. Yes, you are half Asian, half Caucasian. Caucasian is white.
I know what Caucasian is, Mom. You don’t have to tell me.
Oops! Okay. And you know, we Asians are the pretty kind. Just like Caucasians. But you are the prettier kind.
(I said that to cheer her up. She wasn’t happy with me taking it easy at home today. She wanted to go somewhere, like yesterday, we went to Pagoh.)

Kitreena had a big grin. For a few seconds she just stared at me, smiling.

But Mom, you know…you are one of a kind.

She just cheered me up instead. My day was made.
Easy!

Ice Cream

Your love is better than ice cream
Better than anything else that I’ve tried
And your love is better than ice cream
Everyone here knows how to fight

And it’s a long way down
It’s a long way down
It’s a long way down to the place
Where we started from

Your love is better than chocolate
Better than anything else that I’ve tried
Oh love is better than chocolate
Everyone here knows how to cry

It’s a long way down
It’s a long way down
It’s a long way down to the place
Where we started from…

~Sarah McLachlan

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Anyway, with this Fried Meehoon, Mom was very specific in her request, to say the least. The Fried Meehoon has to be ‘white’. Meaning…no fermented soy sauce, no soy bean paste, no oyster sauce, no chili sauce. Mo sauce, mo man tai. And no red meat lah, of course! She likes fish cakes, fish balls and tofu, and no! No chicken please. She’s tired of chicken. So, fish cakes, fish balls and tofu it is.

It didn’t take long into the Wushu-ing at the stove before I realized that the biggest wok I had at home was just too small to fit a pack of meehoon, plus the fish cakes, fish balls, tofu, plus the vegies and plus my TLC. I needed a bigger wok. (And a bigger understanding as to why TEFAL doesn’t make woks bigger than 31cm in diameter.) I solved the problem nevertheless, by transfering the three-quarter cooked meehoon to a deep baking tray.

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Dear Anonymous,
Thank you for finally leaving a comment after reading me off and on for over a year. It sure deserves a post on its own. And here it is.

About leaving…
It’s almost always an easier option than staying. Is it not? Yes. Leave, if you must. But be kind to the one you’re leaving. No matter what. You can say that the love has died, the feelings are gone. But stop right there. In my case, I didn’t mind the death of love. People fall in love, people fall right out sometimes. Life goes on, people move on. But it’s the telling about the new-found excitement that hurts me the deepest.

I know what falling in love is all about. Wasn’t I there ten years ago head over heels, soul sold and what have you? But love is not about the falling head-ons or head-over-heels in love. It is about staying in love, when all the honeymoons are done, love and babies are made, bills paid, battles fought, all the energies have worn out, and all the perfumes have left your skin with one too many a wrinkle. Sooner than you know, love is not just about seeing the two of you staying and growing old together. It’s about growing up together.

It is about staying.

I am sure someday true love will find me. But until then, hatred – towards the one who once fell in love with me – is the last thing I want to carry in my heart. Afterall, in my case, he was the one who suggested a ‘clean break’. I don’t see the point in him telling me about the great time he was having in Spain with his new soulmate while I was here staying up with his coughing daughter and his wheezing son. I was his soulmate ten years ago when the children were nowhere near the picture. Things have changed. Agreed. Things do and things will.

So…be kind.
For it is almost always more important, and definitely always harder than being honest. Honesty is in your right hand, and kindness is in your left. Embrace your choice. And you can only do that with both hands.

About the children…
Though as much affected, they usually handle changes in life so much better than us grown-ups. That’s the beauty of innocence. They will grow up and believe in true love and marriage if you instill in them the values that bind you. It’s never wrong to stay for the sake of children, but you know it is a lot of work if love is not there for their other parent. I did say leaving is almost always an easier option, didn’t I?

Like anything else, love (and marriage) is a promise you honor. If or when you are not able to keep your promises, apologize. Be heard, but don’t hurt. Again, leave if you must. But be kind to the one you leave.

And yes, no matter what.

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Over the past seven and a half weeks, I have grown to believe that strength is the lie I tell myself repeatedly until it becomes my truth. And after a while, it becomes the truth. I am glad I did and still do have faith in this very shortfall that has kept me from falling apart. I thought I was wrong when I thought I was strong. I was wrong. I was strong. Even if it was in my very own way of being strong. I just became.

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But then again, this strength did not come without many people and events to be thankful for. As I was walking on the narrowest path possible, there have been hands pushing me forward and pulling me upward. There have been many more hands lifted in prayers – for me, Kitreena and Edrick – than I ever thought lifted. Best friends, true friends, old friends, new friends – and even friends I never thought would care.

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Thank you for all the prayers, kind words, strength, courage and love sent my way. As I am walking this path that is hard and narrow, you have lifted me higher than you know.

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