A Love Letter to My Loved Ones

Dear kids,
I might not die tomorrow, but I'm doing what wise people say to do before it's too late. I'm writing love letters. To you. Yes, to you! Of course you know I love you. Heaps and heaps. And because I love you, I scold you when you do something wrong. I even punish you when the wrong is too much. You don't like it but it's for your own good. One day when you are parents yourselves, you'll see the reason why it works.

It hurts me to scold you, to point out the wrongs you did. Oh how my heart bleeds. But somebody has to do it. Or else you'll end up being irresponsible adults in the future. Being responsible is one of the musts of living a meaningful life. Remember, each and everyone of us is placed on earth for a purpose. Says who? Says mom...and remember again, moms know things! They can feel things. They have an extra eye on the back of their heads (ah, you know it). You'll find the purpose of your life one day like I think I've found mine...that's the MAIN purpose. But apart from that, there is one common purpose we all are here- to love each other. Isn't it beautiful? Love heals dears. You better believe it. How, you'd ask. Because if you love, you are willing to understand why someone does something they do, and wouldn't get too upset for a long time even if what they do seem wrong. Especially when they do that to you.

Anyway, kids, I love you. Today I'm going for a three hour and 45 minutes course after office hours. That means I won't be home to help you with your homework. To nag you to have them done fast so you can rest before bedtime. Or to nag you to check the books you are supposed to take to school tomorrow. Or to scowl when you don't tidy up your stuffs (which most of the time you end up not tidying up anyway). I won't be home to give you dinner (so you'll have to clean up on your own- no excuses like having to go to the loo right after putting your dishes in the sink!).

But kids, you know what? I'm going to miss you! Silly billy mom huh? It's not a very nice feeling thinking that you're going to bed without saying good night to me even if you don't hug me anymore. I'm used to you not hugging me anymore. For some reason you stopped doing that...is it because the culture you observe, I wonder? When I was little, my parents didn't hug me much- it's the culture I grew up in. But you shouldn't have had to stop. Touching is nice...it gives comfort. It makes you feel loved.

Hey I'm going to miss our home badminton session tonight! Don't hit the ball too high k. You might break something. I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow morning then. Sleep well tonight. Know that I love you heaps and heaps. And kids, do something for me too...tell your Dad I love him heaps and heaps too. Of course he knows that too but it's good to hear it sometimes! Take care dears. Love, Mom.

Love without regrets

In the beginning it was love...It was love that brought a man and a woman together in a marriage. It will be love that ensures that the marriage withstands all hails, storms or tsunamis. Uncle Lee says "love without regrets"...I value his words greatly. (one can always learn a great deal from those who are wiser :-))

I've learnt from my 13 years of marriage that highs and lows are part and parcel of love. That sometimes when your expectations of your loved one are not met, you can become really hurt and dissapointed. That after some years of being together you tend to take each other for granted and forget the little things that spice up the marriage. Like saying "I love you" or buying presents just because you want to. I'm glad I realized that because I'm going to try my best to not take him for granted.

I've also learnt that when you learn to communicate better with the other half, all problems have their solutions. And that if you have an ego the size of an elephant, the ego tends to be a blockage to effective communication. Most importantly, I've learnt that you need to forgive over and over again because love makes you vulnerable and you feel hurt easily. It is forgiveness that restores the sweetness of your marriage.

Reading this entry of uncle Lee's blog makes me smile. A wise man indeed. I'm glad I have realized that I love without regrets too. Life is too short to be wasted...and I'd like to live it with love.

Dealing with wound (2)

The prodigal father is coming back. After 10 years. He didn't even bother to ask about his two sons before, let alone send them money. Well to be fair, maybe he did send some money for a few months. But that was it. He didn't initiate any contact with them. No words to let them know he cares. Now he is coming back, believing he is a changed man. Yup, he is a changed man judging from his speech- it was all tinted with strange twangs and accents...but other than that, I don't know what else has changed.

He is upsetting the applecart. The two sons are already comfortable living their lives without him. Now he is stirring old painful memories, opening up old wounds. Why oh why does he have to do that?

The humane side of me says it might be a necessary step to complete healing for the sons. Maybe facing him again will give them a new perspective and help them to forgive. Maybe it will give them a chance to express their long supressed emotions...

I have no right to judge the prodigal father. He might be a product of some kind of childhood abuse himself, to have caused him do what he did. But as a human being, as someone who cares deeply for the two sons, I wish he could just stay where he is...There were times in the past I wished that he was dead. I don't wish any harm on him anymore but deep down, I still can't accept what he did and what he is intending to do...

Dealing with wound (1)

My heart bleeds for two people that I care deeply about. When they were really young, they were victims of physical and emotional abuse from a person that they vaguely remember as their father. The younger of the two doesn't remember much. The only thing that puzzles him is why he gets a cold feet when looking at knives. He asked me tonight what happened that made him that way. Fighting tears, I told him truthfully that the person they once called Dad once too often threatened them-he, his brother, and his mother with knives. Threatened to hurt them, or even to kill them. He finally understood why and opened up- he told me how his brother told him what he remembers. Only bad memories of being beaten up and shouted at and nothing much. The younger one finally understood that his parents split for a reason that was a matter of life and death.

The brother doesn't express his feelings at all. He avoids talking and going out as much as he can. The computer is his consolation. He prefers that to socializing. He seems to want to shut everyone out which is really painful. I wish he would talk, and let go. But how do you make a 15 year old open up? He is a sensitive person, a good person basically, but a very wounded one. His surface appearance is very misleading. He looks happy and normal, and his good looks does him good. But I can feel that deep down he is a mess. How I want to pull him out of that mess. How I want to see him laugh without reservation. How I want him to be happy like he deserves to.

Little Treasures from big hearts

I am beginning to enjoy mother's day more and more each year. As the kids grow, the more they emphasize the concept 'pamper mom' which suits me so well. My excited ones started my morning showering me with their handmade cards and carefully chosen gifts from the mother's day stall at school. Everyone wanted to be the first whose present to be opened I had to do mee nee mee nee my nee mo in order to be fair...Impatiently they waited for me to unwrap the gifts. My 'ohs' and 'ahs' over each gift were enough to make each kid jump with joy. Oh how I love looking at their faces when I told them I loved each gift dearly. Little N gave me a pir of warm white and green woolen socks. A gave me a mug that she painstakingly decorated for days at school, to be used as pen-stand, a little white tablecloth for my altar and two bracelets. S gave me a very nice mug for drinking my green tea. All of them were put to use right away...I am now cosily sitting at the desk drinking green tea, with my feet all warmed up by the pair of brand new woolen socks, and my pencil/pens are neatly put in the 'super mum' mug. Thank God for children...how can I not love them so despite their occasional monsterness?

(p/s- and someone gave me a Latin Workout CD that is just perfect to help me achieve my goal:-))

The heart remembers...

Two days ago was one of my best girl friends, L's birthday. She turned 36, but in my heart she is always the 25 year old girl I first met at work. We went to the same uni as undergraduates. I was a year ahead, in a different faculty, but I've seen her a few times hanging out with my fellow statemen. My impression of her then was, "this is one bold, intelligent lady". Always asking good questions during seminars, she did portray that impression.

Fate had it that we were to be colleagues at work, at a newly formed institution in my homeland. She being the foreigner, adapted to the local cultures very well. I got to know her better, and I began to see her much more than just the 'bold, intelligent lady' that was my first impression. She IS a beautiful lady, in and out. She fought for injustice at the office, no matter how that brought her the label 'rebellious'.

Then we went to do our MA in the same uni that we went to as undergraduates. We became housemates, and I saw more aspects of her that are indeed impressive. To top her other qualities, she is also extremely generous. While earning a meagre tutor's salary, she supported her brother who studied in a private college. To cut a long story short, we faced many moments together, both good and bad. She married her sweetheart, and had her first baby, J, who's very precious to us, her family and friends. Other friends and I shared the moments of her labour and her joy when J was born. In the last hours of pain, she was still at the computer getting an assignment done!

When we were done with the MA, we went back to work at the same institution, and she generously offered me a roof over my head. Since both our hubs were still finishing their studies, I gladly lived with her together with my 2-year old daughter and a live-in helper. When I gave birth to my second daughter without hubby by my side, she was there to give me the much needed moral support. The birth date of my second daughter coincidently is the same as her first son's, and so we have another reason to bond stronger.

Trials after trials came our way, and we strongly stood to face them together. With her I once shared this analogy:(there's a group of us at work who became really close after all the years). It was like we linked our hands to go up and down this unknown mountain, and whenever one of us fell over, the rest never let go. Instead we stuck together through thick and thin.

Then it was time for her to leave for her homeland. It was such a sad moment for me. I was losing a best friend, who's also a sister. It has been years now since she left, and I am now in another country. But indeed, the heart remembers...sometimes I regret not being there physically for her when she faced trials, like she was there for me when I thought there was no more hope in life. No matter what, L, I love you always. I pray for you when I pray, and I wish you happiness no matter where you are.

Jim died (Ghost Whisperer Episode 15)

It's weird how Jim's dying affected me..the show is not even real, but it managed to affect me so much I couldn't stop thinking about it. Melanie and Jim were perfect together. You'd think that such thing should last...alas, how wrong could one be. Jim the ghost couldn't accept that he died. And that makes me even sadder...I'd be like him if I died unexpectedly, I think. I'd miss my family so much, especially my kids who are still young and can't look after themselves.

Oh well...I guess one message is being conveyed, loud and clear. Detach yourself from worldly thing. When your time comes, you go alone. Aww, sad...but that's the reality of dying.

Moral of the story- make the best of my time here in this life. Say 'I love you' often (although having been raised the way I did, it's not very normal to do that). I guess writing it in a blog is much easier - I love you, and I mean it (to my hubby, my kids, my family members, and my friends)...