April 5

Four days ago, I wrote my first blog entry for the month of April. I was talking about what a sunny and relaxed vacation I may have for this year as the month of April imminently approaches. Well, an unexpected incident occured threatening my sumer lovin act for this year. On April 5 at 3:20 pm, my nephew Ponso sent me an SMS urging me to go home ASAP because his Lolo's ( my father ) body was not in good shape. The " not in good shape " he was pertaining to as I found out when I got home was the numbness afflicting the left portion of my father's body. At 4:20 pm, I decided to bring my father to the hospital so the doctor could diagnose what was really happening to him. As we had suspected, he just had a stroke. And guess what, while he was lying on the hospital bed, the numbness was almost over, my father was in his normal self again, and was prodding me to go home since he did not feel sick at all.

I am in Room 310 again, the room we occupied in February when water entered his lungs. I am writing this blog entry. Surprisingly, I am almost done with the third. So far, my vacation is happening according to what I had planned ( even with the presence of an ER scene ), simple ( there is no tv here ), family-centered ( I am with my father ) and relaxed ( Lee Kuan Yew said an air conditioning unit makes a difference ). Hopefully, next vacation will not be as plain as this year. I have a feeling the next vacation will be a blast. Can you imagine when MG meets SG?

Wo de Fumu ( My Parents )

I have old parents. My father just turned 70 last February while my mother is turning 61 next month. Their wrinkled faces, slower gait, weakening physical abilities, and their less optimistic views in life constantly tell me, time has definitely passed by. That Marsha has grown up so much, that her parents are much older than when she was still young.

When I was still a child, my only idea of what old person means was based on a story my father told me about her mother. I’ve never seen my paternal grandmother. I just knew her through Papa's stories. According to my father, when he was still a little boy, he would always hold the wrinkled arms of his mother. As a child Papa often touch his mother’s wrinkled arms. It was a texture ( if I may call it such ) unusual to the touch. They were soft, flaky, and saggy. He would ask his mother, “ How did your arms become like that? “ And my father would not understand why no matter how hard his mother explains to him. He just could not figure out how a healthy skin could become like that as time passes. At 31, I do not have to repeat the same question. I know and have accepted that people become old even if he wants it or not. That his healthy skin will soon be ugly, wrinkled, saggy, dry, and even, flaky. My father and mother’s skin have become like that. Another reminder that tells me, my parents are now really old.

As a woman in my early 30s, I still want to do a lot of things that will make me happy and fulfilled. I want to travel, do volunteer work, study abroad, meet people, build new friendship, enjoy life, be a good citizen, and contribute to nation-building by helping the youth. Basically, they are the ones that can make me happy and worthy. My parents know this and they are so kind to support me. My parents have given me so much that whatever and wherever I am right now, I highly attribute all of these to them. More than anything, it is my family ( especially my parents ) that completes me. I may have traveled the whole world, obtained degree from the most prestigious university, helped thousands, forged friendship with the rich and famous but if I failed to become a good daughter to my parents especially in their twilight years, every accomplishment would just be a beautiful icing on top of a hollow cake. A sweet icing that will not satisfy a daughter's hunger.


The painting used above is by Zhang Xiaogang.