Each day a blessing

When she smiled, I can't help but notice she actually did have a nice smile.

I just don't know why she was so stingy with it. Was it because she was afraid it would be exploited, or was it because she was never genuinely ever happy?

...

It has been very trying for the past few days.

Last Wednesday, my mum decided to check herself into the hospital. She hadn't felt very well.

With some effort, she mustered her way to the A & E department, was warded within half a day and was there for three days. I had visited her on Wednesday night.

We were still behaving with the same aloofness towards each other. It was difficult for me to be nice when I know she didn't and wouldn't reciprocate. Once, she had swore at me for not massaging her legs (and I had wondered why she couldn't 1) ask in a nicer manner 2) done it herself). Another time, she was angry at my sarcastic comment to invite the whole world upon her remark to invite the physiotherapist whom she has seen three times. (She insisted that the physiotherapist seemed really keen to come to my wedding.)

Now, at this point in time, she seems to have a failing memory and a frail frame.

As apparent from her struggles to remember if she had taken her diabetic medication.

She had fallen down three times at home. She needs help to walk even a metre and I had bought her a frame just so that at least a support is available for her to hold on to when no one is at home.

But she is even not managing well with the basics of feeding and all. She can't always see the food. She has an acquired taste and rejects a number of stuff.

She has trouble seeing and hearing. That makes it all the more difficult for us to communicate to her, and for her to tell us. More often than not, she responds with an angry grunt about how we are not doing things right.

...

On Saturday, R and I visited L who has a one-year-plus toddler.

It was a visit long overdue because I had in fact planned to visit her after the baby was born (the last time I met her was when the baby was still in the tummy!) but I was rather busy. And can you imagine it--that was like eighteen months back.

Time really flies.

But somehow, the visit kind of made me a little sentimental. Not the visit per se, but maybe the reflections generated with the visit.

The fact is, I am very fearful of turning into my mother. As I would often confide in my colleague P, I am worried that when I am old, I have no friends like my mother.

You see, I never really know what kind of a person my mother was to her friends. I never saw a lot of her friends. She often kept to herself. She beseeched me--when I was growing up--never to trust people. I suppose then, she probably never trusted anyone.

So at this point in time, when I have to find help to assist us to tide over this crisis, I do not have many people to turn to.

Truth be told, the power of friends as a support network really cannot be underestimated.

Which is why, I had msn-ed L and said I cherish our friendship.

I had in fact wanted to text all my dear friends to tell them that: to let them know I really appreciate them for being in my life, and that I hope we stay as friends in years to come.

...

Now, I am at a loss. I really don't quite know what to do.

My mother's younger sister had come in yesterday and is coming in today. But we can't ask her to come forever. This is not a permanent solution.

But, I really don't have a better option now.

I guess I can really live one day at a time. That, in itself is enough a blessing.