Do things that you never thought that you'll ever do. When something scares you, you know you're doing it right, you know you're living life to your fullest potential. You don't need to plan it all to make it work cause plans are dead. Now, I can proudly share if I were asked how it feels like donating a part of myself. The red bloody connective tissue that does everything it has to to keep me alive. Although it started off as a not so good experience but it became one that was even more memorable than the crazy deed itself. I am grateful for the ever so caring and loving people by my side who knows me and what I need better than I do sometimes.
And three whole days of Health Promotion Campaign could really open your eyes to more things that you'll ever learn in a year of lectures. Things that I call the 'real stuffs out there'. The people, they're real. Their stories, the look on their faces when they express those words, the burning desire to know more and to be reassured. I'm glad to have been exposed to this side of the profession that I've chosen. And the indescribable feeling of satisfaction working and spending more than 12 hours a day with my fellow batch mates and the seniors. They're an awesome bunch. It's a shame that we only have such brief moments with each other before some of them leave to UK. Nevertheless, the connection was strong and a comprehensive one. No one could understand this part of our uni life better than they do really.
This evening, I am glad to have the opportunity to listen to Orla Meade, Unilever's HR Head of Singapore. It was a privilege speaking to her and she said, studying something and doing something in life doesn't have to be the same thing. Love her Irish accent. Okay gotta pack, off to Penang tomorrow. Teehee.
Love, peace and understanding.
26 April 2013
08 April 2013
Ever Enough
It was exactly a year and a day since she had Sam. A Friday.
She left work at 5pm, parked her car at the shoulder of the road instead of the garage and stepped into the hallway of the poorly lit house, like any other days but this time with a different kind of grin on her face. She cooked up dinner, picked up toy cars and vomit-stained napkins from the floor and set up the dining table for two. It took her half an hour longer than the usual but it didn't feel like it for her. Once the clock struck seven, the cuckoo bird came to live with a weird Moroccan beat for about five seconds. Again, perhaps she didn't even notice it because she was staring blankly at the pile of toys in the middle of the living room where Sam used to play. Used to.
What or rather who was she waiting for? Sam? Her husband Jerry? Her mother-in-law from another town which is fifteen minutes away from where she lives but only come by twice a year since she got married to Jerry; once on their anniversary to remind them of how they were a mistake and another during Thanksgiving where she buries herself with booze in Jerry's liquor collection in the cellar and leave without any notice, usually after a week. It has always been strained, her relationship, their relationships. Even before the baby. The baby.
Jerry came home at about half past seven, an hour late. But Sue didn't say a word, she stood up, helped him with his coat and briefcase and shared a swift but understanding kiss. They have always had a lot of respect for one another. And tolerance. Being lovers since their high school days, it took them a lot to be where they are now. They know pretty much everything about each other, likes and hates, choice of words when replying a text, taste in clothing and food, bad habits, goals and directions in life. Romantic or sweet, two words they get a lot in any gathering or event they attend. The truth is, it gets mundane. Conversations become scarce and eventually non-existent between them. The mind, dream and world they used to share are gradually dividing to two separate entities. Something was coming in between them.
They sat down at the dining table and fed each other like teenage couples do in fast food restaurants.
Jerry finally spoke, "Funny ey, habits. They don't leave us as we wish. I've gotten so used to you and this home, I can't imagine coming home to anybody else."
"Well, you said the same to your mom before you met me, didn't you", Sue said monotonously.
"C'mon Sue. I don't have to say it, you already know. Right?"
"Well guess what. I don't. I'm not even sure if you know what you feel inside. I'm tired of assuming Jer. 15 years. You love me but I don't hear it from you. Why are you keeping it to yourself. Huh?"
Silence. They both put down the cutleries in their hands to the sides of the plates gently. They looked up straight into each other's faces. One minute has passed. Two minutes. Five minutes. Sue began to tear. It was true. What he said about habits. She rose from the chair in slow motion, went up to their bedroom and came downstairs with a luggage bag and left without a word. Jerry was still in his chair. He waited till the sound of the engine disappeared. He walked to the fridge to get an Avian. He paused at a sticky note which says, "Dear Jer, we're not a mistake, I know. But you've never said so." He continued, "Don't worry about Sam. He'll be happy to have you when you're ready to have him in your life." Signed at the corner: "With lots of hope, Sue."
Get a grip. Happy monday. :)
She left work at 5pm, parked her car at the shoulder of the road instead of the garage and stepped into the hallway of the poorly lit house, like any other days but this time with a different kind of grin on her face. She cooked up dinner, picked up toy cars and vomit-stained napkins from the floor and set up the dining table for two. It took her half an hour longer than the usual but it didn't feel like it for her. Once the clock struck seven, the cuckoo bird came to live with a weird Moroccan beat for about five seconds. Again, perhaps she didn't even notice it because she was staring blankly at the pile of toys in the middle of the living room where Sam used to play. Used to.
What or rather who was she waiting for? Sam? Her husband Jerry? Her mother-in-law from another town which is fifteen minutes away from where she lives but only come by twice a year since she got married to Jerry; once on their anniversary to remind them of how they were a mistake and another during Thanksgiving where she buries herself with booze in Jerry's liquor collection in the cellar and leave without any notice, usually after a week. It has always been strained, her relationship, their relationships. Even before the baby. The baby.
Jerry came home at about half past seven, an hour late. But Sue didn't say a word, she stood up, helped him with his coat and briefcase and shared a swift but understanding kiss. They have always had a lot of respect for one another. And tolerance. Being lovers since their high school days, it took them a lot to be where they are now. They know pretty much everything about each other, likes and hates, choice of words when replying a text, taste in clothing and food, bad habits, goals and directions in life. Romantic or sweet, two words they get a lot in any gathering or event they attend. The truth is, it gets mundane. Conversations become scarce and eventually non-existent between them. The mind, dream and world they used to share are gradually dividing to two separate entities. Something was coming in between them.
They sat down at the dining table and fed each other like teenage couples do in fast food restaurants.
Jerry finally spoke, "Funny ey, habits. They don't leave us as we wish. I've gotten so used to you and this home, I can't imagine coming home to anybody else."
"Well, you said the same to your mom before you met me, didn't you", Sue said monotonously.
"C'mon Sue. I don't have to say it, you already know. Right?"
"Well guess what. I don't. I'm not even sure if you know what you feel inside. I'm tired of assuming Jer. 15 years. You love me but I don't hear it from you. Why are you keeping it to yourself. Huh?"
Silence. They both put down the cutleries in their hands to the sides of the plates gently. They looked up straight into each other's faces. One minute has passed. Two minutes. Five minutes. Sue began to tear. It was true. What he said about habits. She rose from the chair in slow motion, went up to their bedroom and came downstairs with a luggage bag and left without a word. Jerry was still in his chair. He waited till the sound of the engine disappeared. He walked to the fridge to get an Avian. He paused at a sticky note which says, "Dear Jer, we're not a mistake, I know. But you've never said so." He continued, "Don't worry about Sam. He'll be happy to have you when you're ready to have him in your life." Signed at the corner: "With lots of hope, Sue."
Get a grip. Happy monday. :)
01 April 2013
A different kind of love
I can't blog as often anymore cause priority setting has leaped into the picture and it's taking up a bigger role than I imagined it would. Not that having quality alone time is of no importance anymore but it has to be done faster, more productive. It's true that productivity is not determined by the amount of time you put into doing something but how much effort you put into that duration. Something Puan Giam wrote in my little notebook in standard six. I didn't quite understand how it would relate to life or in what context it can be applied but now, light-bulb moments!
Right now, doing what I sign myself up for without expecting much in return at first, if this is not it then I don't know what is. Even if it's not, every experience is worth the try. It's totally different and this is what I wanted. Things HAVE to be different in order to obtain that something different that I'm searching for. It's a crazy thing to jump into an unfamiliar, ever-changing ocean without a plan but it's crazier to tie yourself to the railway track and pray for miracles.
Yesterday was a good day with the family in Port Dickson. What's better was having a good read under the humble shade of a coconut tree on the sandy beach. Triple goodness is what I call it.
May you all have a wonderful Monday.
Happy April!
And peace, love and understanding. Always. :)
Right now, doing what I sign myself up for without expecting much in return at first, if this is not it then I don't know what is. Even if it's not, every experience is worth the try. It's totally different and this is what I wanted. Things HAVE to be different in order to obtain that something different that I'm searching for. It's a crazy thing to jump into an unfamiliar, ever-changing ocean without a plan but it's crazier to tie yourself to the railway track and pray for miracles.
Yesterday was a good day with the family in Port Dickson. What's better was having a good read under the humble shade of a coconut tree on the sandy beach. Triple goodness is what I call it.
"You had many more years," he said.
"I didn't want them."
"But they wanted you. Time is not something you give back. The very next moment may be an answer to your prayer. To deny that is to deny the most important part of the future."
"What's that?"
"Hope."
The shame welled up inside her, and once again, she wept. She missed her mother more than ever.
"I'm so sorry," Sarah gasped, tears pouring down her cheeks.
"It's just felt like. . . the end."
"Ends are for yesterdays, not tomorrows."
Dor waved a hand, and the street dissolved into sand. The skies turned a midnight purple, filled with countless stars.
"There is more for you to do in this life, Sarah Lemon."
-an excerpt from The Timekeeper by Mitch Albom.
May you all have a wonderful Monday.
Happy April!
And peace, love and understanding. Always. :)
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