On the brink

I thought last week was the height of the whirlwind of happenings for me, but I was wrong; the storm is just the beginning.

School is only going to get busier; hopefully lady luck will take some mercy on me. Was on an extremely unlucky streak last week, so many uneventful happenings descended on me that it’s hard to think of it as anything other than the lack of luck.

Luck  luck  luck  luck  luck  luck  luck  luck

And.. I’ve been contemplating if I should put this section of the post in because I’ve really been writing so much about death that people might think this is all I talk about. But no, it just seems to be that there’ve been a lot of passings recently.

My dear Lao Sim passed away last Tuesday. For the benefit of those who don’t know, Lao Sim is my nanny who’s been taking care of me and my siblings since we were little. I’ve been preparing myself for this day, because she hasn’t been too well; going in and out of hospitals. But I guess, no matter how much I prepare myself, it will never be enough to pull me through.

To be honest, even after the wake and the funeral, I still cannot come to terms that she’s really gone. I don’t know how long I need to stop hurting.

But I’m also glad that her sufferings are over; that she doesn’t have to feel the pain that complications from diabetes was giving her anymore. But.. she’s gone. For all my 21 years, she’s been there as a grandma to me, and now, she’s become a memory.

Yes, this period is definitely a rough patch.

Silver lining, hope to see you soon.

Someone heard me talking.

Ok I withdrew from the competition.

On the partial reason that on Wednesday’s training, we were supposed to train to cross the start line on time, and I never made it to the start line.

So I’m going to train hard and try not to come in last for the other upcoming competitions. (=

Joke of the Week

I am to join a windsurfing competition (Singapore Open) happening this coming weekend.

Our coach said, “you guys have to train very hard so as not to come in last.”

Go SMU!!

Celebrating post number 200.

I didn’t realised I’ve posted so many entries till date.

Haven’t been too active in reflecting; must be the school work. Doesn’t leave much room for any other musings.

But it does not equate to no happenings though. A few weeks ago, I was bestowed upon the task of being a mother to a little kitten by my Dad, because someone left him in a tissue box in his garden shed. He was really tiny; a couple of weeks old at most. Just when I told my Dad that Datou doesn’t like the introduction of other cats, this little kitten comes along.

I didn’t want to name him; somehow I found naming him inappropriate, since I didn’t intend on keeping him. Maybe because of exactly that, I didn’t want to get too attached.

He didn’t seem healthy, which is probably why his previous owner didn’t want him. His right eye had an infection and the skin of his hind legs were scaly. But he was getting stronger every day; his calls were louder, he started walking around, he could even climb out of his basket but will fall from the brim because he can’t reach the table top. But he never learns, and he continued to do it. And one thing that brought great joy was discovering that he was teething; every day I would stick my finger into his mouth and run it aross the ridges.

One chilly morning, after feeding him, I left for school. It was going to be a long day, and I didn’t anticipate the weather changes. When HY and I came back, he was cold as stone; barely alive. What followed was a mad rush - hot water pack, warm socks, trying to get him to drink some warm milk – anything that has to do with warming him up.

After 2 hours, efforts were beginning to prove futile. I held him in my hand and felt him slipping away from me. I gave him as much comforting as I thought he deserved, to let him know that I’m with him all these time; that he’s not alone. I didn’t cry just yet, because there was hope that his condition will turn around.

Then, we saw him taking a deep breath in, with pain, and as he breathes out, that was it. He slipped away.

Then the tears came. Not so about the sadness of losing him, but I questioned my role as a mum to him. I wasn’t the mum that he instinctly needed; and that contributed to his death. I cried for his incomplete childhood and the pain he had to endure even before he experienced joy. His death affected me more than I would expect; but the pain has bared the love I’ve grown for him.

No matter how much you tell yourself not to love, inevitably, you’ve probaly already had.

That high

People always ask me, “what’s so great about diving in Singapore?” I was reading Asian Diver magazine this morning, and it’s an issue about falling in love.

“That’s what keeps us diving – a combination of love for every beautiful thing we’ve seen underwater, and a lust for everything we’ve heard about but haven’t seen.”

That’s exactly the answer for why most divers remin divers for the rest of their lives. So diving anywhere has its draw, and maybe ultimately, it’s just the notion of getting excited about finding something in the water. Get on that compressed air high.

Ahh… I miss that high.

Beginnings

Tiny adorable puppy amongst rice stalks – Cambodia

I was reading Jess’ blog, and she said, “I have a million photos to post up,” and I thought: tell me about it.

Blessed new year, everyone.