Family

Quick updates

I’m still taking photos each day, but I just don’t have the energy to post them up at the end of the day.

Not when I see photos like these and cry.

I guess I’m still not over my grandma’s death. It’s easy to remember most days that she’s gone. Harder to accept some days, like today, that I can’t just go over to her house and sit on her bed with her. Have her tap my knee when I say something silly that makes her smile. Have her hold my hand when she walks. See her face light up.

I feel so guilty for ignoring her the months leading up to her death. I’ll probably carry that guilt for the rest of my life. I feel so guilty that I didn’t get married before she passed away, so she could see me in a wedding gown.

Most of all I feel guilty, sad and disappointed with myself. I miss her. I remember a woman who took me for a 2 hour walk, or was it just 20 minutes? We walked home from the market when I was a child. I will never forget that walk. It was long but I loved it so.

I remember Mama holding on to my hand firmly when she was afraid she would fall. I remember being happy that I was needed in that way, that I could hold her hand and be her support like how she had been for me, growing up. I remember Mama touching my face and looking at me as though she would burn my face into her memory one time when she was in great pain and we thought she was going to die.

I remember Mama tapping my head to see if I was there and awake one time. Mama making a fuss because she didn’t want to be alone. Mama who gripped my hand firmly. Mama who scolded me, and Mama who could make jokes.

Mama’s with Papa now, dear. You know that was where she wanted to be. And you know how much she loves you.

She’s no longer alone.

Let her go.

Rest in Peace, Mama.

I love you.

Clothes: A generation gap

“Aiyo, why you wear this to work? I thought I told you to wear something nicer? Your wardrobe was so much nicer at your old company,” was one of the first things my mom said to me when I got home yesterday.

For the record, I was wearing a simple top, with a pair of slightly-loose jeans. My mom hates my wardrobe. She prefers to see me in slacks and with a handbag to hold my wallet. According to her, that makes me look like a girl.

I have a tonne of issues with that. One of which is that I absolutely LOATHE dressing up. Just because she enjoys it doesn’t mean I do. I think she really does see me as a copy of her. She sees me as someone to mold in her image, or at least in her image of what it means to be a girl today.

I absolutely hate it.

Yet I can’t talk to her about it because I don’t want to hurt her feelings. It’s bad enough that Dad bullies her and lives off her money. He can’t keep a stable job and with mom facing retirement in a few years and two car payments to keep up, I know they are both feeling the pressure. I honestly do hate the way mom critiques almost everything I do. She can’t really let it out with my brother because he will scream just as badly to her. As for me, I tend to resort to cutting remarks and bringing up the past. Which are her own tactics against us. I do feel sorry for her but I find it quite hard to excuse her actions otherwise.

ARGH. Will just go back to writing. /incoherent rant

Packing: 25%

The good news, at least the drawers of my desk are clean. Now to reorganise the two boxes I have and start attacking the smaller cabinets. I think I need another two boxes before I complete those, but definitely need to find a mask, else I’ll be sneezing in my sleep again.

Dust notes

Dear self,

Please keep in mind the following:

  • Dust takes approximately 2-3 hours to settle, so schedule cleaning appropriately
  • Clean your fan!
  • Vanilla candles do not displace dust

Also, book box 1 is good to go. You may seal and put it outside. Then we can get started on the boxes underneath your bed and the additional device boxes in your cupboard.

Sincerely
Me