Live. Life. Love.

Live,
For that is Life.

Love,
For that is Living.

~ Mich

Of Food, Time and Aunt.

Time -

The Pavlovian conditioning has somewhat culminated in a propensity towards anticipating crumbles.

Let's put You out of the way for today.

Aunt's been fighting for her life for the last 3 weeks.

Critically ill, she had been in mICU where countless tubes adorned her flesh involuntarily. Breathing was a gift, for with each audible gasp of air that the machines had granted, it meant that life continued to course through her veins. Her mouth had been forcibly widened to allow copius amounts of oxygen in.

Last Sunday, she was asleep when I arrived. A gentle shake woke her up. As our eyes met, she broke into loud wails and would not stop bawling. When our helper (God's gift to our family, for she has taken care of each one like her own) asked why Aunt had burst into tears, she sputtered through gasps,
"Michelle....Michelle...Cook whatever Michelle wants to eat."

That is Aunt. I'm very blessed when it comes to my maternal family. While Uncle had been my sole influence in academics and had showered me with every educational tool or book that I had ever wanted, Aunt was the tour de force when it came to the palate. She ruled the kitchen and every meal was a banquet of sorts.

To give you a clearer picture, a typical meal I had as a 7-year-old included
• Two plates of rice
• 1-2 whole fish (catfish, pomfret, garoupa or otherwise)
• A bowl of 6-7 chilli prawns
• A bowl of sambal kangkong or cabbage
• A large bowl of pork rib soup
• 1-2 fried eggs

Yup, that was my daily ingestion. It sure explains my insatiable appetite in adulthood!

Food, in our Peranakan culture, is crucial. It is the epitome of love and family bonding. Hence, Aunt would ply me with every possible yummy dish that she could whip up. All I had to do was ask.

From the day I could speak as a toddler, I had been given a choice as to what I'd like to have for every meal. This holds true till today, at this given moment. There was an unspoken rule which Uncle & Aunt had enforced - that everyone had/has to eat whatever I wanted.

When Aunt was struck with gout, she continued to labour in the kitchen with Mum to feed the family.

When she needed a walking stick because a leg had been distorted as a result of said gout, pots and pans continued to clang in the kitchen.

Consequently, both legs gave way and she was confined to a wheelchair. Mum assumed the role of being the family chef but Aunt remained at helm and acted as the commander over recipes. It was hilarious as both would bicker about inane ingredients and such but this would dissipate once the edibles met our palates. Grunts of approval amongst family banter meant that the meal was up to standard.

That is why Food is incredibly important to me, for it is a reminder of the immense amount of love I had been gifted with since birth.

Today, Aunt quivered violently but tests showed that nothing was out of the ordinary. She remarked weakly that she wanted to 'go home' (read: Heaven) and meet my deceased Uncle. Then, she muttered my name over and over again throughout the day.

Dear God, she has suffered much over the last 15 years. Yet, time and time again, she has always miraculously pulled through and acted as if nothing had ever happened. It was bizarre as we were baffled but it was certainly a happy miracle.

Dear God, please sustain Aunt. We would love the bizarre miracle once more.

In Jesus' Name I pray,
Amen.

Let That Be Enough.

My modus operandi of the week is to simply forge ahead

And be oblivious to the obvious.

First, the scrawls.
Next, the place.

It is where my heart is.

You know it, for I've told you that if I could, I'd love to live in ____.

You will not take those wonderful memories away, as much as you try to remind me of your existence.

Why do all these,

Only when I've decided to let go?

Because You do not want to lose?
Because You cannot believe that the last line of defence has thrown in the towel?
Because You regret not telling me in return?
Because You still have feelings for me?

None of this is reality, for it is mere speculation in my head.

Conjectures will remain as such so long as You continue to play this game of Coincidence : Round 263690248032.

No.

I want to be OK.

I don't want to have slivers of pure joy sandwiched between layers of agony and tears.

Love is a many splendoured thing, but shards & fragments sure ain't part of that mix.

The guise,

The pretence,

The secrecy we've I've had to endure,

The tears...

Dear You, life has got to carry on.

Mine has been on hold for 9 years,

And soon, it shall be 10 when You return.

Let that be enough.

From Cradle to Grave.

Occasionally, the Internet conjures an eclectic mix of delights.

Are you nodding your head in congruence too? =)

Source : The P|an T0day
(Intentional misnomer to discourage trolling.)