my husband calls it growing pains. i have no name for it, only a certain unsettling phobia for deaths and overwhelming anguish. that i am no different than any other people i am sure, for who likes pain and sufferings, but at this moment of my journey i am on the brink of caving. my strongest virtue is empathy and perhaps also my weakest link. i cannot help but feel the pain that others are feeling and when i see sadness in their eyes, i share the grief too. for the last two years, i have attended more funerals than i had in my lifetime and i remember all too clearly each and every, including the pain that i see in their tears. whilst i know the dearly departed and are somehow related, i cannot be said to be close. still i am very unsettled and it takes me a very long time to recover, to forget, which until today i have not been able to do. only now the memories of my grandfather's death 16 years ago are slowly blending into the blurry images of time. i am particularly slow in adapting to matters of the heart. i imagine the pain and the sadness of those left behind, the days ahead, and the long journey behind. i am so very grateful that i am not in their position but tremble at the thought that i will be one day. i jolt awake in the middle of the night and i try my hardest to divert my attention but thoughts are like the raging river with no way of reigning it in. life has its ups and downs and it needs one to balance the other. at the moment there is no balance and i feel i have used up my stock of happy thoughts and warm fuzzy feelings. i need laughters, i need smiling faces and inspirational words. i need silly people and caring voices. i need to recharge. in the meantime, everybody. pleaseeeeee............. stay healthy and happy.

socks for japan

i'm living in a vacuum of apathy and detachment, my brain frozen of all thoughts and emotions. it's a little empty, a little cold where i am. i distract myself with a multitude of activities and movements. words that form in my brain are short, clipped and to the point. gone are the flowery expressions, the complications, the passion. life is easier when you don't think about it. i was informed that someone close is ill, to which i greet the news with more aloofness. the walls are dense. nothing seems to get through.

the first time round i was vastly disturbed. i wrestled with heavy emotions for days, knowing that someone out there, someone that i have never met nor know of my existence, was dying slowly and there was nothing i could do about it. someone that i have held my hand out to save but in the end, all i could do was stare vacantly at my empty hands. it won't be the first time that i watched someone die, perhaps this time not with my own two eyes. shouldn't someone do a little more, shouldn't someone have said a little more, i kept asking myself each time. this is after all a human life we are talking about. not knowing exactly when, the value of a human life has cheapened over time. comparing with pets in faux fur clothes and weekly spa visits, our lives have been rendered worthless, insignificant even.

with all the knowledge and experience that i have garnered over the years, i thought i was finally in the position to be of use to others, what little i could be. i don't know much but i was more than willing to share what i have learnt thus far in life. i watched one by one leave, and with each departure, there was a story, of what could have been, of what was done wrong and what was done right. my head still rings from the cold dark echoes of disembodied voices floating around like lost souls. 'do you want us to resuscitate?', 'it's just a flu', 'she is not moving, what should i do?', 'he was a very fit man', 'he's not eating'. that was all the wealth that i had to contribute back.

she was sick, with lung cancer. that was something i knew a little about, having walked down the road with a survivor once. i knew the formula, i knew the secret. i thought, during that moment in time, here was someone that i could save, even if not with my own bare hands, but with what i know. the doctor was 80% confident, and in that game it was miraculous odds. but the family wanted to gamble, they threw away that odds for ............something. what, i can not even begin to fathom! given a chance of survival, they didn't take it and opted for an alternative. what could they probably be seeking for? i was brimming with frustration for days. comprehension was beyond me. life is so fleeting, how can anyone choose for death? the patient wanted the chance to fight, she wanted to go for the treatments only to be told no, it's not the best choice for you. not even when the doctor was 80% convinced. my heart bled for her. not because she was ill, not because she was old, but because her family didn't love her enough. i shiver at her helplessness.

i know, and i understand, that outsiders will never appreciate the stories behind each tale. what were they thinking? what happened to make them come up with the decision, i will never comprehend. they must have their own justifications, of that i am certain. valid or otherwise, i cannot judge as a third party. i am trying my hardest not to judge, not to scream at them inside my brain and strangle their imaginary necks for failing to hold on to their mother's hand, for failing to take this most valuable opportunity of a second chance.

when i am told the story the second time round, i have grown jaded. apathy moves in to replace helplessness. i no longer try to convince anybody of what is the correct path. i don't even want to hear if i was right. sometimes there are no victory in being correct. i hope for once i am wrong.

how do you answer when you are asked 'what's up with you?', or 'what's happening?'. i seem to be asked that a lot. probably because i have a tendency to hide myself in some dark highly top secret cave-like hideout, aka my house, so people are always asking what's new with me. people don't get why i usually meet the question with a blank stare. errr.....pretty much the same?

hello? that is probably the easiest question in the world and you can't answer that??! that is my antagonistic split personality asking.

perhaps because i am a complicated person. i don't think people will be interested to hear about the latest corporate strategic operation in my company, or maybe they would but i'm not at liberty to say. insider-trading and stuff. i don't think they are keen to hear the minute daily-grind details of the things my kids are up to these days. the most boring conversationalist in this planet must be parents, especially brand-new ones fresh from the stork's mouth. my baby pooped twice today, or she just learned to crawl! hard to muster the enthusiasm when most babies do that.

i'm not too crazy either about listing the recent places i've been since i last saw whoever it is i'm talking to. holidays are only fun and memorable when you experience it, not when you have to hear someone yakking non-stop about it. however, i answer when i'm asked and friends seem to ask me that a lot, for lacking of other topics to chat about, i presume. besides, holidays are just a distraction for me, not a lifestyle, so there really isn't much to talk about in that department.

so, what do i answer? how do most people answer? let me look through my calendar for a minute now......i walked the threadmill yesterday, i spent 2 dumb days at the panasonic stadium last week where i was glued to the seat for hours and hours on end, i was stuck in traffic jam for 2 hours on friday, i am watching reruns of 'friends' every night, i just completed one painting and is halfway through another. i want to pick up cooking, photography and a whole load of other classes but i'm afraid i don't have the time to commit. there's no gas in my place at the moment. i'm going to the justin bieber concert. all too insignificant to mention, and too boring to bring up. when you haven't seen someone for some time, it's hard to pluck an update from the air, without going through a long detailed explanation of each.

what do normal people answer, pray tell?

I hate growing old. not because of the declining faculties, not because of the wrinkles, aches and pains. not because you become only a shadow of your past vitality and beauty. somehow, somewhere along the way, you lose your ability to laugh, at others and at yourself. it is not a voluntary action, it is not something that you consciously carry out, but as you grow older, you forget how to be silly. you forget how to laugh, even if you want to from every pore of your body. everything is so measured, so precise, so deliberately thought out. gone is the impetus haze of the youth, the melting into puddles of laughters over the silliest and smallest of things, the pranks, the fun. now, even the jokes in reader's digest manage only to wrangle a wry grin.

it's called growing up, some people would say. personally, i don't see any conflict between being a responsible tie-wearing adult and being lively. just because you are hitting the age, you have to conform to the stereotype of the boring mentally-slow grimacing aged? the last perhaps the result of hermorrhoids but there is no saying that you can't be a pain in the butt and still laugh? granted, all those weights on the shoulder does make one a little grumpy, grouchy even, but this is life. you can live it acting like the not-so-distant cousin of snow white's little dwarf or you can live it laughing all the way, responsibilities or not. it's called making lemonade with the lemons that life gives you. the 'r' word is merely another excuse for being mr grouchy.

that said, even with the right mentality, even with a mouthful of endorphins-releasing chocolates in your mouth, you still can't laugh till your belly threatens to split open. what exactly is the problem here? you can't cackle even if you wanted to. growing old checks in with a lot of accompanied baggages. cynicism, egoism, jadedness, pride, sensibility, apprehension, awareness. somewhere along the path, we exchanged all that for the age of the innocence. i am determined to be joyful, not just contented, but laughing silly like people a quarter my age. forget decorum, forget sensibility. the next person who asks me to act my age will get a cavemanlike clobber on the head with a club, and i have no intention whatsoever of dragging the comatose body back to the cave. however, even with the correct attitude to life, or at least correct in my own eyes, i still can't do it. how do you laugh to zero stimulus? how do you cackle at a group of stiff-upper-lids wearing designer wears and ties, discussing numbers and politics? how do you joke with others who cannot remember the sound of laughters?

i had a little 12 year old sucking up to me yesterday. how cute was that. i felt like a mother-in-law. at 40??? hello, my mentality is barely beyond the teenage years either! i don't think i'm quite ready, but it's so adorable. my problem is, and has always been, that i take things way too seriously. i really should butt out and keep my mouth shut. industrial strength cellophane tape, anybody? there are so many things i wished i had never done or never said, or i wished i had handled differently. sigh, i totally suck at communication.

puppy love. well, i think it's sweet and cute that he is so devoted to little missy. good for him.

seriously. this year i have to learn to shut up and butt out. like i will ever learn that. sigh. sometimes doing nothing is the best way to handle a situation.

everything about bringing up a kid is hard. from sleepless nights and endless feedings to teenage rebellion and secrets. it's hard to adjust. one day they are totally devoted to you, needing you every step of the way, making life a little claustrophobic whilst you look at it pass you by through window bars. the next day, in the blink of an eye, they don't need you anymore, finding you a little in the way even, keeping secrets and private jokes from you. when did the best friend become the enemy?

there should have been little signs to prepare you, very much like the breadcrumbs that hansel dropped on his way into the woods. there should have been formal notifications: mum, i'm not going to be needing you in 2 months from now......encounting, 1 month and 29 days. as i've always lamented, there should be a manual on life. i wish i had been more diligent in keeping records and i've started even earlier for i hope when she is all grown up, this can be her manual of life. i don't know what life holds in store for me next, what rollercoaster of emotions. i'm not prepared, i will never be. who is ever prepared for life? i can only take one step at a time, one day at a time.

i called the accounts department for enquiries on my account. after listening to my case, she referred me to the billing department. she will try to pass the line, she informed. after waiting for a few minutes, she said, i'm sorry, they are very busy at the moment. can you please call back?

there is no number that i can choose for the billing department for your automated operator, i replied. yes, there is no direct number to the billing department. thinking that she misunderstood me, since i wasn't asking for a direct telephone number, i clarified that i can't choose the billing department when i'm calling in. yes, you will have to call the accounts department and we will try to pass for you. (that is the part where my jaw hits the floor - like roger rabbit). by experience, you will be more lucky early in the morning or late in the evening. (she was serious! i am suppose to test my luck, very much like the jackpot gambling machine. honestly, i would rather use my luck on lottery tickets)

isn't there an e-mail address that i can send my enquiries direct to? the e-mail will only go to the e-mail department, not the billing department. my jaw can't very well drop to the floor two times, so i am only left with a big gaping hole where my mouth is. how do you even respond to something as senseless as that. i can't help but think that only in our country we will have a system as fool proof as that - a system to proof that the designer is a fool.

i've never thought that secretive invisible departments very much like the c.i.a. and f.b.i. will exist for billing department of a national telephone company. i wonder if they operate from some secret basement 100 feet from ground and is only accessible by a secret lift disguised as a letter box.

pets are suppose to teach children about responsibilities, empathy and love. that's why we got them some pet fish when they asked for a dog and some dwarf hamsters when they again asked for a dog. it's not my fault that our condo doesn't allow dogs.

however, i don't think the pets are doing a very good job in educating the kids. they are next to being forsaken and forgotten. someone else has taken over the job of cleaning and feeding. inevitable. kids' attention span is as long as one episode of ben 10. that's why they split it into 30 minutes episodes and not dragging on-and-on-and-on like the korean dramas. after an attack of conscience, i wanted to return the hamsters to the shop, to give them a second lease of life and new owners who will remember to play with them. that's when the little one decided that he loves little hammies and can't bear to give them away. that's when his renewed enthusiasm for hamsters was unleashed and he gave them a second glance again. only to realise that one little hamster has a growth on her ear. i'm guessing it's a tumour. the little one is now crying for me to take her to the vet. seriously. her great-grandparents cost me like $10 each and i'm suppose to spend hundreds of dollars on surgery, medication and doctor? don't take me wrong, i'm very a very emphatic person; that's why i wanted to return them to the shop in the first place. i don't think that we should be keeping them isolated and caged, but to spend a bundle on this small animal whose lifespan extends only perhaps another few months more, i can't help but feel that it is money wasted. especially after reading that such pocket animals do not take well to surgeries with their small hearts and all. sigh. so, this animal finally taught my son to be emphatic, to be loving, to be caring, but i have to say no? i don't even know how to explain to him. there shouldn't be a price on a life, but in reality, i can't deny that there would be better use of that money. to say that its life is not worth saving is crude, heartless even. i have another 4 hamsters growing older each day. i never thought that there will come a day when there is a distinction between what is the right thing to do and what is ethically right.