Yes, I have.
I have, in all my waking hours, been reminding myself that love, in any form, is the best defense against loneliness. Yes, I have. But the trouble is, I don’t trust Enida. I don’t trust if she could ever pick herself up again if she is let down. Again. There shouldn’t be any again, again. I am shutting everyone out, out of fear of being hurt.
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I am, in all my humbleness… scared.
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Posted in Hurt, Inside Enida | 2 Comments »
Saying goodnight is getting more and more challenging these days with Kitreena. While I do enjoy the bed-talk, the cuddles, the giggles and the many thought-provoking topics, I shouldn’t be entertaining half of her theories, really! And at bedtime the other night, out of nowhere…
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Kitreena: Mom, could you please have another baby?
Mommy: *chokes on her reply* Another what?
Kitreena: Another baby. And a baby girl please. I want a baby sister.
Mommy: Where did this come from?
Kitreena: Mommm please, it would be really nice if there’s a baby in the house.
Mommy: *is still very much flabbergasted* But I can’t have a baby without a husband.
Kitreena: Why not?
Mommy: Because a woman needs a man to get a baby.
Kitreena: You mean you need a husband to get pregnant?
Mommy: Uh, yeah!
Kitreena: I don’t get it. But the baby is going to be in your tummy.
Mommy: Yes, it is. But my tummy needs a husband to make it pregnant. *tries not to be too explicit to an eight-year old*
Kitreena: Ohhhhh! Is that why people get married? To get babies?
Mommy: Well, not all. But mostly. Yes.
Kitreena: Hmmm… since Daddy doesn’t want to be your husband anymore, you have to get a new husband, Mom.
Mommy: Well, maybe I don’t want a new husband.
Kitreena: But how are you going to get another baby then?
Mommy: Maybe I don’t want another baby.
Kitreena: Mommy, please?
Mommy: It’s not as easy as getting a fish at the market you know. Besides, who would want to be my husband.
Kitreena: *smiles very widely*
Mommy: Oh come on now baby, it’s bedtime. Good night! *tries not to smile*
Kitreena: But Mommm, I really do want a baby sister. *pouts*
Mommy: I’ll go fishing tomorrow then. Good night Monchhh!
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Posted in Monchies | Tagged Parenting | 1 Comment »
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It was the autumn of the year;
The strawberry-leaves were red and sere;
October’s airs were fresh and chill,
When, pausing on the windy hill,
The hill that overlooks the sea,
You talked confidingly to me, –
Me whom your keen, artistic sight
Has not yet learned to read aright,
Since I have veiled my heart from you,
And loved you better than you knew.
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You told me of your toilsome past;
The tardy honors won at last,
The trials borne, the conquests gained,
The longed-for boon of Fame attained;
I knew that every victory
But lifted you away from me,
That every step of high emprise
But left me lowlier in your eyes;
I watched the distance as it grew,
And loved you better than you knew.
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You did not see the bitter trace
Of anguish sweep across my face;
You did not hear my proud heart beat,
Heavy and slow, beneath your feet;
You thought of triumphs still unwon,
Of glorious deeds as yet undone;
And I, the while you talked to me,
I watched the gulls float lonesomely,
Till lost amid the hungry blue,
And loved you better than you knew.
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You walk the sunny side of fate;
The wise world smiles, and calls you great;
The golden fruitage of success
Drops at your feet in plenteousness;
And you have blessings manifold: –
Renown and power and friends and gold, –
They build a wall between us twain,
Which may not be thrown down again,
Alas! for I, the long years through,
Have loved you better than you knew.
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Your life’s proud aim, your art’s high truth,
Have kept the promise of your youth;
And while you won the crown, which now
Breaks into bloom upon your brow,
My soul cried strongly out to you
Across the ocean’s yearning blue,
While, unremembered and afar,
I watched you, as I watch a star
Through darkness struggling into view,
And loved you better than you knew.
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I used to dream in all these years
Of patient faith and silent tears,
That Love’s strong hand would put aside
The barriers of place and pride,
Would reach the pathless darkness through,
And draw me softly up to you;
But that is past. If you should stray
Beside my grave, some future day,
Perchance the violets o’er my dust
Will half betray their buried trust,
And say, their blue eyes full of dew,
“She loved you better than you knew.”
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Elizabeth Akers [1832-1911]
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Enida says:
For the next fifty years of our life, Happy Tenth Anniversary. Here’s a toast to your success! You did it all by yourself. Congratulations! It takes a lot of courage, I bet, to deny all that others have done for you. You can keep your Thank You’s, and the praises too. Life might not be fair. But God is. And lucky, you don’t believe in any. So here’s another toast to you, for your future that has no past.
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Posted in Inside Enida, Poetry | Leave a Comment »
It was our usual kissy-kissy sniffy-sniffy session saying goodnight shortly before 8pm while waiting for Kitreena to finish brushing her teeth.
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Mommy: Who is your best friend at school now, Monch?
Edrick: Jayden and Adam.
Mommy: Oh still those two?
Edrick: Yeah, because they’re my boys.
Mommy: What about Anooj?
Edrick: Yeah, she is too. But she’s a girl.
Mommy: That’s all right. Does she still like to kiss you at school?
Edrick: Yeah, she does.
Mommy: Does she smell good?
Edrick: Yeah. But you always have the more gooder smell, Mom.
Mommy: Oh? I do? *immediately checks her armpits and knows her son is telling the truth*
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Posted in Monchies | Tagged Parenting | 1 Comment »
I have been looking high and low, left and right, up and down for this song. Sung by Maizurah Hamzah, a Singaporean beauty in the late eighties or early nineties.
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Kau Yang Kusayang
Dalam keterasingan
masih lagi ku dibelai
oleh satu penyesalan
cinta yang tak ku lafazkan
kepadamu
Dulu waktu hadirmu
tiada pernah aku tahu
hinggakan engkau berlalu
membawa langkahmu
dengan hati pilu
Mengapa di saat ini
ku di genggam rasa sepi
hingga memaksa diriku
menjadi perindu
bayangan wajahmu
Dalam keterlewatan
ku mencari kesempatan
agar dapat ku lahirkan
satu kerinduan
kau yang ku sayang
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Posted in Nostalgia, Songs | Leave a Comment »
When I need a shoulder to cry on, and when you can’t even give me your fingertip, I know who you are.
Should I still be me?
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Posted in Hurt | Leave a Comment »
To tell the truth, I am very angry. Very very angry! I have waited since April 23rd 2009 to let this out but everytime I felt the anger, it cut me deep. You may not have respect for me. But you don’t know me. I am done licking my wound. Deep wound.
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I am gone cutting.
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Posted in Hurt | 1 Comment »
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Malam simpul jerat,
renda tepi paya;
dalam sampul surat,
ada hati saya.
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Posted in Poetry | Leave a Comment »
This is what my brother, Uteh, posted on our Facebook Family Group Wall yesterday morning:
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Pekaba warga 443?
Uteh Alhamdulillah, dalam situasi penstabilan semula hati dan perasaan yang dilanda trauma. Citernye macam ni….
Isnin baru ni, on the way balik dari sekolah, ada la Viva potong kitorang kot kiri. Dalam hati sempat berkata, hai Viva ni kang… depan tu je kang! Sambil borak-borak dengan KakTeh and Kak Betty (kawan KakTeh), tiba-tiba nampak kereta from the other side remuk giler sambil driver dia dah terlentok. Kereta still berjalan terhoyong -hayang.
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Tak jauh daripada tu di laluan kitorang, depan je sket – Viva tadi dah terperosok ke tepi semak. Driver dah tersepit. Paling menggawatkan suasana, ada baby lingkungan 3-4 tahun atas jalan – kaku tak bergerak. Darah tersembul keluar dari mata yang koyak belah kanan dan kepala yang berlubang (luka dalam) atas daripada mata kanan. Masih bernafas masa Uteh angkat ke tepi jalan.
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Sebelum tu sempat horn panjang right berhenti tepi jalan – takut-takut ada yang melenyek budak tu. Ada Waja offer nak bawak ke hospital, tapi tiba-tiba tak berani bila tengok darah tak henti-henti keluar. Uteh and KakTeh nekad – bawak jugak sendiri. Sebelum masuk pintu kereta, nafas budak tu mendengus – darah memancut lagi dari hidung and kepala. KakTeh riba kat belakang sampai lah ke Mentakab – hospital lama.
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Uteh terketar-ketar pegang steering sepanjang-panjang ke Mentakab. Tu je lah kot dapat citer. Ni pun asyik dok teringat. Nak tidur pun susah. Kakteh ok jek. Ceria dalam gundah macam hubby kesayangan dia jugak.
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My shawl was wet with tears as I had gotten so emotional when telling this story to Bibik on our way to pick up Monchies from school yesterday. Bibik rubbed her arms a few times as she had goosebumps imagining the child lying motionless on the road. I didn’t have to exaggerate the blood part to her as I myself was stuck with the torn eye and holed head details.
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It didn’t take me too long, either, to turn into an extremely cynical witch in the end, thinking of the Viva driver. He must be happy now that he was safe from the traffic police. Great! No tickets, no summons. Selamat lah sudah. Peace and quiet, the end.
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Late last night, cynical, angry, sad, scared and all… I disabled all Facebook Mobile notifications. And this morning, I drove a little slower and had no desire to touch my phone. The whole world could wait. I had heavens in my back seat.
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Posted in Sense | 3 Comments »
Kitreena: Mom, where are you going after this?
Mom: I’m going to make a blood donation.
Kitreena: Blood donation? But why?
Mom: Because it might help people who need it.
Kitreena: Oh you mean like when Grandma needed it?
Mom: Exactly! She got blood help from other people. So it’s my time to help other people’s moms.
Kitreena: But are you going to run out of blood?
Mom: Nohhh! They’re not going to suck my blood dry lah! Besides, my body will make new blood.
Kitreena: Oh! Hehe. How much are they going to take out from you?
Mom: Mmm just about as much as what your water bottle can contain.
Kitreena: Ooooohh! That’s banyak Ma!
Mom: Tak lah, it’s not for drinking. Hey, did you know we can donate organs too? You know what organs are?
Kitreena: Yeah, like kidneys and heart and stuff.
Mom: Smart girl.
Kitreena: But Mom, how are you going to live if you donate all your organs.
Mom: Hehhh! You don’t donate all your organs at once lah oi. That’s not donation. That’s giving up! Hahaha.
Kitreena: *chuckles* Oh you mean you donate your organ one at a time.
Mom: Well, yes. Maybe just one organ when you’re alive. And if you don’t want to do it when you’re alive, you can leave an instruction to your family. You write them a will to let them know you want to donate your organs when you die.
Kitreena: Oh you mean, when you don’t want your organs anymore?
Mom: Well, when you die, you don’t need your organs, no matter how much you want them. You don’t even need your body.
Kitreena: Oh yeah, because you only need your soul. But Mom… *pauses and looks puzzled*
Mom: Hmmm…
Kitreena: What does a soul look like?
Mom: It depends on your kindness.
Kitreena: What do you mean?
Mom: Kind people have beautiful soul.
Kitreena: It doesn’t matter what they look like?
Mom: That’s right, Monch. Doesn’t matter what their body looks like.
Kitreena: *pauses, looks at Mommy and smiles*
Mom: What?
Kitreena: Mom… I think Grandma’s soul is one of the most beautiful souls of all.
Mom: *smiles widely, weeps quietly*
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..
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Posted in Monchies | Tagged Parenting | 6 Comments »
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Questa è Enida 