On Friday, we got a call from my aunty in Ipoh - my grandfather had passed away. He was 93. He was my maternal grandfather. For those who don't know, my mother is from Ipoh. (My dad is Singaporean and came from India when he was 6). So on Friday, there were decisions to be made. My mother didn't want to go - the excuse was that she needed to look after my father.
For those who don't know, my dad is practically bedridden because he's old (and a little senile, haha). We have to feed him, clean and clothe him and make sure he's happy. He can be a hand full at times but that comes with the territory. I use him for tax relief - parent, handicapped.
That morning, I was online checking for flights into Ipoh. There are none. Well, not from Changi, Senai in Johor and KLIA anyway. The only flights in and out of Ipoh Airport orginate from Medan on an Indonesian airlines on Thursdays and Sundays. Damn. Double damn since we actually took MAS to Ipoh just last year.
Flights aside, my passport was less than 6 months to expiry. I couldn't risk leaving the country. So finally, my sister and mother would make the journey to Ipoh by bus, and I would stay home for the weekend to look after my father.
I was at Golden Mile at 930am paying for tickets. Interestingly, I went to Gunung Raya where I faced some unfriendly customer service people. It was my mistake, wrong bus company. I wandered off to Grassland where the reception was positively joyous. The Grassland folks are actually happy to see their customers. Kudos.
I got home later that morning in the heaviest of downpours. A dramatic start. For the next 48 hours, I would go through what my mother goes through on a daily basis. Despite my confidence, it was not easy. Food, diaper changing, conversation, erratic sleep cycles because of the earlier requirements, hand-holding, towel baths, massages and tickling. Yeah I tickle my dad. I took him and his mattress out into the living room so that I could watch tv - my only other entertainment/consolation for the weekend. And slept next to him too.
It ain't easy being my mother. She cooks and cleans the house in addition to looking after my dad and battling her asthma and arthritis.
Now I am thinking of all the fights we have had and all the time I spend away from home. Don't I feel like an ass now.
3 comments:
You don't say... sometimes it takes a role-play to see and feel things from another perspective, then review and empathise when you're back to yourself. Distance does the same to me... makes me think about family/friends so intensely I start to think about the things that never occurred to me - and sometimes the most important. And I really miss you, Gurmit!
*pat pat* be good n spend a little more time to help out at home.
I thought what you have done in that 48 hours (though only 48 hours) was sweet and haha...& not easy for the moment of realization in being an 'ass'...I mean all of us are 'asses' sometime somewhere in our lives, but not many would realize and admit. For this, you deserve another little star as credit.
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