I Miss You Mummy 2

After writing I Miss You Mummy ;( the other day, I had a talk with Phil. I was telling him I was worried that I might not be grieving properly, that I would wake up one day and totally lose it. He says he thinks I have not suppressed my grief, just that I don’t wallow in it, but taking me seriously he suggested I continue writing down my feelings, memories about mom, and he even added, I don’t even have to blog it, unless I want to, that made me smile, he knows I post almost anything on my blog, let’s face it not a lot of people would be interested in reading my infrequent updated blog which most of the time talk about me and my problems, the only people that read are Phil (when I make him, lol), my sister and a few close friends, whom I would share what I post anyway.

But the thing is I can’t write, memories been swirling around but I find no threads to tie them up, I can’t make it comprehensible, which make Phil’s way of getting drunk and talking about it easier to swallow, lol, since he and I both know that way is kind of close to me, so only writing it out is my only avenue. I tried really hard, especially the night I couldn’t sleep, I wrote How Do I ... a poem about my last hour with mom, it made me cry and actually till now I am still crying inside when I am with the family and real tears when I am alone, but I don’t think I am successful at keeping my sadness from them because everyone seems gloomier these 2 days.

Well anyway, what memories have been swirling apart from that vivid last moments, well that is just it, myriads of them, of the image of mom with my large bamboo cane given by a village gangster when daddy was shooting in Rembau, the cane was nearly 6 feet long and 2 inch thick, and there was mom in all her 5 feet 1 inch height using it to threaten me about what she is willing to do if I don’t go to school, and there I was, rebellious 15, who knew very well that cane will never touch me, but looking at sweet mom and know how badly she wants me to behave and not succumb to the sweet seduction of uncontrollable emotions, so I obeyed and till today the legend of mom carrying a large bamboo cane and harrying me to school remains in the family history.

And there was the time when I was away at university and trying to cook dinner for my housemates, I had to call mom 7 times just to find out if I am cooking her Kangkung Belacan correctly. The whole family still get a good laugh about that. I guess there’s just something in me who believed mom will always be there to cook up all my favourite food and only she can do it right, which stops me from learning all her recipes right, it takes me a long time to be able to make gulai, asam pedas, kangkung goreng belacan, just like she does it, because once I can she won’t do it anymore, saying I can do it now why don’t I make it for her, so I never did. I don’t think it is because I can’t cook or anything, I can learn and adapt a lot of recipes as long as it isn’t mom’s, or my sis would just say, I am just plain lazy, lol, by saying mom’s better, I never have to cook. But what can I say, it does taste better when mom cooks, mine just lack something. So when I was chatting with Phil, a few days after mom passed, I was telling him there’s so many things yet I haven’t learn from mom, and I think he was worried I would say women’s stuff, and so he ask what things? And he laughed when I said, “hmm right now, mostly I think of food.” And the thing is, it made us kids really sad, that we’ll never taste her Laksa Lemak, Ikan Sarak, Nasi Minyak, not that we haven’t helped her or watched her cook all this but we thought that there were still time for her to impart all this. One of the projects that we keep postponing is me typing out all the recipes that mom keeps in her head; well I guess that is what happen when you procrastinate.

Well I guess these two memories would have to do for now, before the myriad of others starts to confuse me on the deatails, anyway, can’t type through the tears anymore, but I guess will continue when the memories get too much in my head and I need to unburden again. I miss you Mummy.