Re: Embrace

My across-the-aisle neighbour told me to continue processing the incident. Somehow, we knew that something would hit me, some day. It's how the unconscious works I guess, when you try to reach for a heightened sense of self-awareness. It's like this piece of jigsaw trying to find its fit in your body chemistry, and when it reaches there suddenly, everything clicks.

She got her own epiphany in the middle of the night when she couldn't sleep. I got mine during lunch today, alone, over a bowl of sliced fish thick bee hoon and a smaller bowl of fried fish roe (which I think I overdosed on). It was hot, the weather I mean, and the coffee shop was noisy and smoky.

It just hit me. Fortunately, I had with me two sheets of tissue paper.

I was reminded of how I wanted to be strong, and had to be strong, for her who was so dear to me. Although I knew (and I still know) that she could survive without me, I just felt I had to be strong for her. Because she was vulnerable too, and she wouldn't show it. Not to me, at least.

And when the mother hugged me yesterday, the feeling of having to be strong for her who was so dear to me just came back. How incredible that two such separate experiences connected so deeply for me. It's really like what F writes in her blog - the "therapist's therapy". I resonated.

Embrace

It was the embrace that startled me.
Then it was the mother's tears that made me cry.
In that freeze frame when she hugged me, it was more than gratitude I felt.
And I'm trying to find out why.
With tears in her eyes, she said "I couldn't have done it without you", but it was still more than gratitude I felt.
And I still don't know what, don't know why, don't know how.
But I felt completely overwhelmed.
I went in fearful, apprehensive and anxious.
It was that all too familiar heart beating so fast. So fast.
I had my script, with help from her daughter.
But I was still fearful to break the news from her daughter.
My across-the-aisle neighbour told me to hold my heart and breathe deep, and to get a glass of warm water.
I had already done that, not with water but with hot tea.
But I was still fearful.
It could be the general association with his suicide.
I'm still trying to find out.
But the incredible thing is, I went in fearful and came out connected.
It's like someone reached into my heart and gently pressed the cry button.
I just felt like crying.
I am crying.
It's just so deep.
I can't explain it.
I hope I can.

chill...

It's 1.40am on a Sunday morning. I just got back from Timbre at Substation. It's really fast becoming my favouritest music place. Today the Goodfellas were playing, punk rock type of stuff, plus U2 plus Pearl Jam, pretty nice. Though I still prefer the band Timmy, which plays on Fridays. They play more pop rock and lots of 90s music, which is nice :) And there's Eric the boh-chap-slacker-dude-crocs-wearing electric guitarist. I like. HAHA.

But tonight was nice too. I guess cos the company - some people from my cell - was nice. We've never hung out for drinks before, and it was really nice to enjoy drinks and music together.

And of all people, I met my bro! HAHAHA. It's one of those moments you see someone soooo familiar you wonder whether you've ever met him before. Yar, that was such a moment as I came out of the toilet and saw my bro. Ever the socialite, he kept joining us for chats. Nice boy. Hee.

Happy.

Passed

After 7 long years in the wildnerness, my bro has finally earned his polytechnic diploma - at the age of 25. It's been such a long detour, all starting with truancy back in junior college, followed by a series of turns, misses and crashes. Even when he told my mum that he had indeed graduated, my mum would not believe it until she saw the results in black and white. The letter finally arrived in the mailbox today. Like a woman expecting her pregnancy test results (and probably dreading it), my mum egged me on to open the letter. And there it was finally: "Passed and completed the diploma course." She could only shout hallelujah (ok, she didn't exactly say that, but it was something like that.) And even now, just an hour after opening the letter, she still can't stop talking about the pass. Congrats brudder :)

It's a good busy

1. Halfway through a parenting help book before passing it to Ethan mummy.

2. Halfway through a book on bipolar depression, so that I can understand my youth better. It's pretty inspiring actually. Did you know that many famous people had bipolar? Eg Winston Churchill, Mike Wallace etc...

3. Two more unread books lying on my dining table: A Thousand Splendid Suns (by Khaled Hosseini), and another on teens and sex. Gee, I love fiction, but ever since I got into social work, I've started to read lots of non-fiction! I think I'd still prefer fiction, cos I love escaping into another world...

4. One unread book on learning styles, to be returned to my colleague tomorrow, cos she needs to use it for a groupwork at a secondary school.

5. Almost through a new song I've tentatively titled "Wonderfully and Fearfully Made", inspired by Psalm 139. Maybe I might call it "My Maker", well, we'll see. Need to record it soon, and need JPorn's help for it! I hope my fervour doesn't die.

6. This morning, a new tune (guitar inspired) for a chorus rang in my head. Switched on my camera, turned it to the microphone mode, and sang into it. I hope I can make it into another song.

7. Supposed to start on writing an article on my dad's passing and my grief by Sunday night. Haven't started. It's gonna be published in the Christian magazine called Impact.

8. Involved in the conceptualisation of this coffee table book on social work. Work's going on.

9. At work, I'm getting excited over a year-end youth concert. Hoping to get my Sec 1 boys to drum an item, but need to settle the costs of engaging Jem as instructor and renting the percussive instruments. Sigh, hope all works out. I absolutely luuurve these performing thingies, especially having the boys perform!

10. A friend cried over the phone today. I felt sad. I hope he doesn't choose to suffer too long. Funny, he always seems to love the other more than the other loves him. I understand where he's coming from. I hope he can move on like I did.

Busy busy busy... but I love the busy now... It's a good busy... :)

easties reunite

A bunch of us RGS girls used to go to school together during our sec sch days. We called ourselves the easties. And we had all sorts of adventures on the train and bus, from sliming SJI boys to bioh-ing erm... ACS boys... on bus 190, which we would board from Orchard Boulevard. Hmm...something like that lah. My memory does fail me, it's been what, 15 years ago? Eug wrote a nice something about our brunch at Prime Society at Dempsey. http://eugenie811.livejournal.com/8607.html
Nice. (I don't know why I can't link on blogger...sigh...)

I hate lizards, but they don't!

There are two guys I know who love lizards. One's my bro, and the other's lil' ethan, as seen in a fireman's suit below. The first guy, who is already 25 years old, continues to derive extreme pleasure from scaring people with Lizard, as pictured on my macbook. He hides Lizard beneath the felt cloth covering for my keyboard and waits in sheer anticipation for his older sister to lift the cloth up. Sometimes, he also throws Lizard at me while I'm watching TV. As for lil' Ethan, he calls Lizard "CUTE LIZARD". *faint*. I hope he doesn't grown up to be like my warped bro, though he does show some potential! EEKS!

4 funerals and a breached case

I don't know if it's the Seventh Month effect, but in the last week or so, I've known of four deaths. (FL my colleague said she also knew of the same number. And just as she said that, an SMS beeped my phone informing me of a new death.)

Just today, as I was flipping through ST, I decided to peruse the Obituary pages, something I very seldom do. I saw the name of the deceased and thought it looked really familiar. I looked down, saw the names of the mother and finally one of the sons, and realised that the deceased was the father of one of my youths. My heart started beating very fast, and I don't know why. I guess it was more like shock, because my youth had always talked about his father living an everyday-type of life - working, staying home, cracking lame jokes occasionally. Turns out the man collapsed in front of his wife during a conversation, from what is believed to be a heart attack.

I just returned from the wake. The youth's pretty mature, already 18. And he said one thing that I thought was so true: "I look at my dad's photo and I can't believe it's true." I totally agreed with him. I guess you can't believe it's true until you see the coffin go into the hole.

+++

Just before I left for the wake, I had to break some sad news to the family of another youth, who is on a programme for young offenders. I had to fail him on the programme because he was still highly at risk. The father sort of pleaded for me to help the boy out, by giving another chance and extending the programme instead of breaching it. I guess I would be doing a disservice to the boy if I didn't breach him, because he already was given many chances. Sigh, really don't know, it's hard to break news to parents. But it's harder to live on knowing that I would be doing a disservice to the boy! If he needs to be convicted in court to learn the seriousness of his crime, then I guess he needs to learn it the hard way...If not, he'll never learn...