Letter number one hundred and thirty-eight: I think of my mom...

Dearest J, 

It is not often that I dream of you.  Many a times I wish I do but I just don't.   A week plus ago I did, in the dream I was down with something, unwell, not ill...but just not well - fatigue, I think.  You administrated something for me, some kind of supplement or medicine...I don't remember much details from the dream now.  Wish I had written it down on the same day.

This is CNY day two (day three now, past midnight).  I came home from Genting at around 2pm.  After a tiring and exhilarating work trip with The Shang Sisters.  I am grateful to be working.

I am feeling melancholic, my recent winds of mood.  These days, when performing mundane things like wiping down myself after a shower, or washing up a pot after meal, or changing the bed sheets; I often think of my mom.  I savour what it feels like to be able to perform these tasks, and think of mom now who needs someone at the retirement home to help her take daily showers, and change clothes. 

Of course it makes me sad every time.  My mind becomes misty and it takes a few seconds for me to focus again on the task at hand.  

The last few visits I saw mom she has looked well, in fact, better than before.  She recounts what she does in the home, etc.  The last time I saw her was 4 days ago - right before I drove up to Genting for the CNY shows.  She touches her own face and said "muscle", in English.  She said the muscle on her face, she said there's "more muscle" on her face now.  "Because I eat so many things here."  "The lady boss cooks very well." 

It's been a seriously hectic past few months, I work all the time.  Right after parents moved to the retirement home on November 4, last year - I have been working nonstop.  

If I am to trust my own mind - my conscious mind - and what I remember mostly about my emotional world lately, it is a cycle of feeling melancholic, gratitude, and irritation, reacting to things and people around me.   And, loneliness. 

It feels as if I enjoy feeling lonely, like...it feels that being lonely, and feeling lonely is an accidental remedy or a "concoction" that I feed myself for my restlessness.

Sometimes I wonder what I'd be like if you were still around.  Whether or not I'd be less restless and agitated if you were still here, being the pillar of wisdom, kindness and ground for my mindlessness.

Who knows...

I'd never know.

Saw your parents last week, at Tristan's 12th birthday dinner party.  His age is exactly...well, almost exactly how long you'd left us.  This year, 2022, is the 12th year since your last bike outing.

Your mom has lost so much weight.  For most part of the dinner her tremor was not seen, but towards the end of the dinner I saw it, right hand shaking uncontrollably.  Your dad really adores Tristan.  The sight of him doting on him makes me sad and happy at the same time.  

The thought of your parents having lost you is a bottomless pit of sorrow.

Mama broker her femur bone about two months ago, she has a full time helper at home now.  A 41-year-old Filipina lady named Bing.  

Feels good to be writing these down.  There are much more in this head of mine.  I do wish I make more time to write more frequently.  

Miss you terribly, 

B