Meeting her grandson

07012012
10.32

I cannot imagine anything more beautiful. A grandmother holding her grandchild in her arms for the very first time. The sun shown on mum's face, revealing her wrinkles and getting hair. My nephew was calm in her arms, and curiously eyed my mum with a puzzled expression. He reached out to finger mum's neck brace and play with the collar of her pink hospital gown.

I stood on the side, as I normally do at these occasions, and took it all in. Mum laughing, pulling face at my nephew, my brother and sister-in-law arm in arm admiring the beautiful first moments of bonding between a grandmother and her grandchild. Mum has seen him so many times on Skype, in pictures and videos... But nothing, nothing compares to the real thing, nothing compares to the warmth and little delicate movements of a baby whose eyes take in this world with wonder and awe. I teared...

What a scene, what a moment. In the background, oxygen tubes, some clutter of glasses and cutlery, pills, and a bouquet of fresh lilies that brother brought from the market (at my suggestion...). Despite the somewhat drab surroundings of the hospital ward, nothing can distract from this very moment.

This is the first time that mum is holding a baby. Not just any baby, but her own son's baby child. What thoughts were behind her little smile? Was she proud to be the grandma of such a precious, and fragile, little being? He is the source of much of her happiness. He has been the source of her strength and determination to get better, for a life wish of hers is to one day hold her grandchild in person. And that wish was accomplished today.

22.54

Another night at the hospital, the eleventh night since my return. There was not even time to go home to rest, even though I did go home, but only to pick up something and immediately leave to return to the hospital.

Mum tells me to go and rest at home. But who will stay with her? Who will attend to her needs, massage her sore back and behind? Who will bring her nutritious food and watch over her so that she does not stumble and fall from her still frail legs?

Not that I am the only one who can make sure she is alright. Mum has been talking about hiring someone, a carer. But I cannot let go... I cannot feel comfortable unless I see that she is alright.

My brother came back last night, but to be honest, as some of mum's friends tell me, there is little he can do. He has a wife and baby to take care of, besides he has to go visit a lot of people in the coming period who are all eagerly wanting to see the little baby. My brother came by today and sat next to mum. It's good that he does that, to keep her company. But when I asked him to give mum a back rub, or to moisten her skin with lotion, he only did so half-heartedly... I know, I cannot expect everyone to do what I do, to be as attentive and detail-minded as I am. And besides, he's still recovering from jetlag and didn't sleep much last night because my nephew was noisy.

I know being with mum makes her uneasy and feel guilty. She keeps on telling me to go home, to leave her for she will be fine in her own. But I just cannot leave her like that... And I get irritated too. So tired and irritated that she is telling me to go and leave her  when all I'm trying to do is be with her at this crucial time.

To be honest, I do feel the fatigue and restlessness creeping in. I barely have time for myself, every moment it seems there is something to do, something to take care of... If not the dishes, then it's making sure mum gets the right pills and necessary nutrients... If it's not making sure mum is comfortable in bed, then it's making sure mum gets up and walks around a bit to exercise and train how to walk again... Every single moment it seems I am busy doing something. I do it all, I face it all with a calm composure, but deep down, I feel myself cracking...

I barely have time for myself, to write, to work, to collect my thoughts and calm down. At the same time of dealing with mum's new condition, my thoughts drift to my ex, who keeps writing me messages that I don't reply to. Don't want to reply to. Because I don't want him to feel conflicted and torn any more. He is better off without me, without having to listen to me talk about my problems and what I'm facing here. He told me so clearly he is happy with this new guy, so implying I have given him much grief and unhappiness (admittedly in the past few weeks I have...). If he is happy, what does he need me for? What else can i give him that his new "boyfriend" cannot give him? I see little need for us to talk at all, as he seems to want to, when all I can bring him is heaviness and awkward conversations. So I just want to cut myself off from his life. At least for now. Is it cruel? But he told me to move on... He's already doing that. So I'm just letting  him finally "resolve" me and move on, as he has wanted to for a long time.

Probably the hurried and randomness of the notes for the past few days reflect the mood I am in... Disjointed, nervous and agitated... And so very tired...

turning away

"How can anyone turn away and not feel the least guilty?" I asked "How can anyone do that and sleep at night, knowing how much hurt has been caused?" These questions have plagued my mind for such a long time, even though I know I probably will never know the answer. Somethings will in life always remain a mystery. And you just have to accept it.

"Not everyone feels as you do. Some can switch off their feelings and get on with their lives. So should you."

Those words I knew were coming. I expected them. I too must one day learn to be smart, to turn away and not look back.

Breakdown

Breakdown


How did we get to this? All he wanted was offer me dinner on the eve of my thesis submission. But I rejected him. I said no because I don't want to have anything to do with him.

And yet I bring him fruits and make him fresh lemon juice when he's I'll... And yet I comfort him because his granny's health has deteriorated over the past few days. I can give him myself, offer to do things for him, but I don't accept him trying to help me.

What's wrong with me? All he wants to be is a friend, what we've always been, regardless of whether we're together or not. But I can't even do that. It seems as if I'm deliberately spoiling our friendship, or the remnants of it. For whose sake? I want to say it's for his sake, so that he can move away and resolve me... But he turned it around and told me, perhaps rightly so, that I'm doing this for myself because it's easier to just walk away and drop everything...

Perhaps that is true. I don't know. I'm just so confused and hurt. By myself, angry at myself. Hurt seeing that again I've made the one person I care about so much cry and cry and be disgusted with me. I don't want to hurt him... I want to hold him, reassure him that no matter what, even if we're apart, even if he's found the love of his life and genuine happiness, I can be there for him still as a friend, as a best friend.

Can I do that? Can I do that with no ill feelings, with no anger or jealousy, without harking back to how I make myself feel like he's abandoned me and left me for another? I don't know...

I'm so confused, so frustrated with myself. So angry at myself for making my ex, my friend, cry and cry. I'm so angry at myself for (deliberately?) wanting to ruin a perfectly beautiful friendship because I can't get the intimacy and romance I want...

Dream of a stranger

I was pushed to the ground, and two three people stood around me, laughing, jeering and shouting abusive comments.

"Stop it! Stop it!" I said, and tried to pick myself up. I hugged my stomach in pain, most likely because one of the guys had punched me hard there.

As soon I managed to stand up, they pushed me and pinned me against the wall.

"Stop torturing me!" I pleaded. A number of arms grabbed my body and began to fondle me, touching me all over. I cringed and wanted to scream... But there was a hand covering over my mouth.

I looked into the eyes of the guy trying to smother me. I know him from somewhere. But I've never really spoken to him in person. Who are you? I know you, but only from a distance. Why do you intimidate me so much? Why are you torturing me like this? His smile turned into an evil snigger as his hand smothered my nose, my mouth.

And I bit. My teeth tore into the flesh around his wrist and I bit down. Hard. A gush of warmth and saltiness poured into my mouth and started to trickle down my chin. Red blood gushed and gushed, gruelsome to see, bitter and frightening to taste.

The guy screamed, out loud and in great horror, and pulled his hand away. The blood was gushing like a small fountain.

I stood there, blood stained and alone, as the guys fled. I collapsed to the ground and began to shiver... I felt so alone, so abandoned and was left to fend for myself...

My first long night of sleep in I don't know how many days. This nightmare occurred just as I was falling asleep, and it was extremely disturbing.

My first night spent in the home I lived in for over almost a decade or so, from the last three years of high school till I left for Canada (interrupted by three years studying in London). So strange  that I should have such a graphic and terrible dream on this first night...

What does it all mean...?