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I was fastening the cuffs of my shirt the other day when I had this near-morbid thought. I was imagining and asking myself… if I were to lose a hand, how would I get by? So I first tried fastening the cuffs of my Eddie Bauer shirt with one hand, lips, teeth and even my chin. Oh yeah, my chin would sure come in handy if I were one hand less.
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Happy to report, I was successful in fastening the cuffs of my shirt. But it was, I must admit, the farthest end of easy. In fact, it was not easy at all. And in all honesty, I actually cheated. 🙂 Since in my imagination I was missing the right hand (to make it harder since I am right-handed), I fastened the right cuff with my left hand. But to fasten the left cuff, I took off the shirt, fastened the cuff and put the shirt back on!
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And then when the shirt was on, I buttoned it up with my left hand, no problem. It was slow, but I did it. I was all sweaty, but with confidence I put my shirt on single-handedly. And I knew for sure, if I were to lose an arm for whatever reason, I could still don a shirt with cuffs and perhaps cufflinks.
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The only downside of having just one hand, I imagined, was that I would have to wake up earlier than usual. As every single thing would take twice as long to accomplish, I could see that I would probably experience sleep deprivation. But that was not too mind-boggling to overcome. I should be okay being Enida The One Un-Armed Woman. I was grinning with the I-be-rite-mate grin.
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It was when I had that satisfactory sneer on my face that Monchies came rushing into my room for their morning hugs. And it was then, when I was hugging them tightly with both arms, that my grin faded away. I suddenly realized that I have never in my life thanked God for giving me two good hands. How dare I imagined living with only one! Ungrateful little Enida!
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As soon as me Monchies had enough of my smothering and my smoochering, I locked myself in my room to throw all my pride and worries away, to put my hands up, to break down, to cry and to pray. In my humility, all I could ask Him then was…
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Tuhan, jaga lah tanganku ini.
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Glossary for Neil:
Tuhan = God
jaga lah = please protect/please save
tanganku = my hands
ini = this/these/here
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Posted in Inside Enida | 1 Comment »
This Enida, on this day, has only this to say…
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Selamat ulangtahun, sayang.
Happy birthday, love.
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Yes, I sayang myself. The best gift I can ever give myself is my love, above all loves. And since life is short, I am now gone to love this Enida on this day.
It’s my day.
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I’ll see you in the morning, sunshine!
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Posted in Inside Enida | 6 Comments »
Sebenarnya saya berniat hendak meletakkan senarai di bawah ini di dinding Facebook saya sebentar tadi. Tetapi kerana panjangnya melebihi sejengkal, saya kira lebih baiklah saya merapu di sini.
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Enida Supian-Johnson agak berbulu jika hotel yang beliau duduki mempunyai:
- pekerja yang duduk berlonggok di tepi meja buffet sarapan seperti ikan di pasar Dato’ Keramat di waktu matahari telah tinggi
- tetamu yang mandi kolam memakai kemeja berkolar seraya terjun masuk ke kolam itu sampai londeh seluar mereka
- lantai yang ditaburi rambut penghuni terdahulu dan bukan kelopak bunga mawar walaupun telah layu tak berseri
- cadar yang ada kesan darah sepertiga titik walaupun darah tersebut kepunyaan Aedes
- kamar mandi yang ada beberapa helai bulu ari atau bulu jembut ternyata lebih panjang daripada bulu jembut beliau yang diselenggara pada setiap 1 dan 14 haribulan bila bulan terang
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Oleh sebab-sebab keteberbuluan saya ini, sayugia dimaklumkan bahawa saya sedang mengarang satu kertas kerja khas bagi melatih pekerja-pekerja hotel berkenaan supaya hotel berkenaan mampu membuatkan hati saya jadi berkenan semula. Semoga diperkenankan niat suci lagi murni saya ini.
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Posted in Humor, Travel | 1 Comment »
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest, if you must, but don’t you quit.Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow–
You may succeed with another blow.Often the goal is nearer than,
It seems to a faint and faltering man,
Often the struggler has given up,
When he might have captured the victor’s cup,
And he learned too late when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.Success is failure turned inside out–
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far,
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit–
It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.– Author unknown
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I ain’t no quitter. Nah, not me. I am just tired of unkindness. You know, things people do when they fall out of love. Like they raise their voice to all questions that sound like criticism to their unloving ears. Like they look at your face the way they look at beggars. Like they won’t let you touch them for the fear of you giving them diseases. Like they want to have nothing to do with you. And like they have never loved you anyway. Like twelve years of marriage had brought nothing good at all.
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They forget. And I am tired of reminding myself that it is not worth it. Yes I do feel like I am hit the hardest at the moment. Tapi saya ini Intan, dia kaca.
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I am just gone polishing.
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Posted in Inside Enida | Leave a Comment »
Since Edrick’s hands are still too small for guitar, I was advised to start him with piano instead. So off he went for a piano trial class with Miss Chui Yi on Friday with Daddy.
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Mommy: How was it Monch? Did you enjoy your piano class?
Edrick: Oh yes, Mommy! My piano teacher said, I did really well.
Daddy: Oh yeah! You couldn’t stop saying goodbye and giving your teacher flying kisses on the way out, could you?
Mommy: Ohhh? Edrick???
Edrick: I still love you Mom!
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.I should not have taken it to heart, but suddenly I felt like crying.
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Posted in Monchies | Tagged Parenting | 2 Comments »
I wrote this a while ago. Unless I try really hard to recall, I can’t even remember whom it was for:
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Saya sudah penat dengan penat. Penat yang kadang-kadang tersebut hanya di mulut. Tubuh tak mengikut. Saya penat memahami. Saya penat menanti. Seperti banyak yang mengaku mengerti saya, tapi tak ada yang menguntukkan masa. Saya seharusnya jangan menunggu-nunggu. Mungkin sudah sampai waktunya saya melangkah pergi.
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Kerana kelihatannya seperti tak akan ada satu pun surat cinta saya berbalas cinta.
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Hmmm whatever lah Enida!
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Posted in Hurt | Leave a Comment »
Dear Farah,
I read you, and my heart goes out to you. I have so much to say, and yet only this is worth saying about him and her. Tell her, “If he can do it with you, he can do it to you.” That is lesson numero uno about faithfulness.And you, my dear, are worth all the love waiting for you.
Picking out a good apple takes time. You’re lucky, the rotten one has volunteered to garbage himself. Bad apples belong together.
Here’s sending you the biggest hug from Moscow.
Love,
Enida.
Thank you Farah, for reminding me of this. I am now chanting this to myself in every waking hour when the pain gets to be a bit too much to bear.
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Posted in Hurt | Leave a Comment »
Serasa saya musim dingin di Bukit Pokrovsky itu sejuknya sampai ke Jalan Duta. Dinginnya sampai tak ada please. Tak ada sorry. Dan tak ada thank you. Malah penat lelah saya menulis kad, saya sendiri yang memungutnya di beg sampah. Begitulah kalau sudah tak ada cinta. Barangkali kalau saya ini sekeping sampul surat, sudah lama saya berada di dasar tong sampah hijau di luar pintu itu. Koyak.
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Posted in Hurt | 1 Comment »
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