~ September 18th 2005 ~
Today a group of us arrive in LAX airport for a couple of days. As we walked towards counter one (as directed) at the end of the many counters of immigration officers seated along the stretch; one of them came forward and said, “ Keep going to the end but some of you may come through this side.”
I was almost at the end of the group and had paused to listen to him and was about to turn back to the barricades that he was opening when he said again, “the rest of you ahead keep going on, only some of you come through here.” So I stopped, lifted an eyebrow and gave the officer a big smile. He smiles back and signals me to turn back laughing…”Alright, you with the big smile, come on over.”
I was thrilled cos it meant I didn’t have to make a big U turn after clearing immigration at the end and walk back down again to retrieve my luggage. The officer was a nice fella and as he checked my details. I commented it was not very busy at that time. He said only at that moment, so it was like a breather for them then.
He pointed out I had not written the flight number and we both smiled at each other as he did it for me while I apologised. Then it was the left index, right index and look at the camera. Finished, I stood aside tucking my passport back into my bag whilst my friend took my place. I gave the officer ‘yeah, yeah’ grin when he said loudly, “Oh good, you’ve already written the flight number.” to my friend.
With a cheeky grin, I bade him a good day and went to collect my bag from the carousel. My seniors were laughing because they saw the whole thing.
Well, it was a nice start to my trip in Los Angeles. Let’s hope the rest of it will be even better! * SMILE! *
Tuesday, 20 September 2005
Saturday, 17 September 2005
* dang! *
Dang! Where is everybody? Why is it everytime I get free internet access, no one is around???
It is so annoying as I get all excited and set my notebook on and get connected and....Dang! Where is everybody??
???
It is so annoying as I get all excited and set my notebook on and get connected and....Dang! Where is everybody??
???
Tuesday, 13 September 2005
* Dad ~ part two *
Since his death, a lot of things had happened. I felt he was always around watching over me. He’d always bugged me to get a house but I didn’t as I couldn’t afford it. He said he’d help but I said it was the monthly payments I was afraid of coping with. So I never bought one till he died.
After much guilt and persuasion from my parents through the years, I finally said to mum that I will try to get a house. We would drive around to check out the signs posted on some places. Then someone told my mum about a house and we went to look at it. The family were still living there and happily let us in to view.
It was nice, clean and its condition was very good as it didn't need much renovations and the house number got to me. 118. Loosely said in Cantonese, prosper everyday! Also, it was within the same area as mum’s place, near enough to drive or walk, far enough to be out of sight! *hahaha*
Two days later, I put a deposit. Within the week, I was looking for a sufficient bank loan. Almost gave up cos I was being given really bad deals till mum said go to her bank. True enough…it worked out. The family were moving to a new house which was still being renovated thus we came to an agreement that they stay on till the bank was ready with their cheque, which usually took a couple of months, 3 the most.
Dad passed on in mid March, we found the house in May. My older brother married in mid May and mum had gone for the wedding only to return in early June. Just after securing the bank loan application, mum left for her holiday and I continued the mad runs to the bank and lawyers and work.
A day before mum was due to return home, I was watching the puppies playing in the porch. The other adult dogs were busy sniffing and mucking about in the garden whilst two others i.e. Guzz and Sayang, were happily racing around the house.
I could hear the quick and loud tapping of their nails hitting the cement as they turned the corner from the back of the house. They were neck to neck and breathing fast and checking out the other. You could feel the excitement in them as they charged towards the front, towards me! I only had the wall on my left and the car on my right as these two came closer without stopping.
Immediately I pushed both puppies under the car and just managed to lift one leg up as Sayang went under me but alas! Guzz the devil slammed through my other leg at the same time and there I was…short lived super girl; more like a bowling pin being bowled over. Up into the air I flew and landed a couple of feet ahead onto the hard floor! I landed flat hard on my front, knocking the wind out of me. Stunned for awhile before the combination of short breaths, reality and pain ran through me; I lay there... quiet.
I called out for help who was already on her way because she heard the loud thud as I hit the floor! Yep, it was loud. *ouch!* I tried to move slowly, like a scene out of a movie where a fallen body from a tall building lies; my left arm was by my side while my right was above my head. Can’t remember how my legs were but I’m sure you can imagine. * hahaha *
The puppies, stunned at having been shoved rudely under the car; crawled out to me. Licking my face, toes and fingers as if to comfort me and eventually began nibbling to get me up to play. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry cos it was both painful and funny at the same time. Not to mention, the other buffalos were unaware of what had happened and continued their games in the garden!
Anyway, I suffered a small fracture at the base of the radius of my left arm. The orthopedic surgeon said I did not need an operation and placed me in a moulded cast securing it with crepe bandages. I was in cast for about three weeks, then in a sling for another two weeks. All in all, I was off work for 6 weeks.
It was during the early weeks I had all the time to go to the lawyers and bank whenever needed to sign my life away for this house. It was all going smoothly and in one month, I was told the cheque was ready! The family whom I bought the house from were surprised and I ended up collecting two months’ rent from them.
All this time, the search for a house and coming upon this one; the frustrations at the banks for a loan and achieving at the same one that secured my parent’s house; the fall and eventual healing process; the running around in getting the necessary papers done up; the fast process and house rent I collected; the much needed and not really needed renovations completing in one month; picking the right days from my hectic work schedule and the moving in….all of these, started out with lots of stress and bad tempers but they worked out properly each time as if led by some unforeseen source.
I felt my father was the one who led me to this house, who helped me to cool down and calmly make some decisions, who helped me see that behind every mishap, something good came out of it. After all, it was his wish that I get my own house and I believe this was his work.
He doesn’t haunt me no, but I know he is there. Watching, quietly showing the way as I live my life as when he lived. I still miss him but I know, he’s always here for us. Behind every dark cloud, there’s a silver lining and my dad is my silver lining. * Smile..*
After much guilt and persuasion from my parents through the years, I finally said to mum that I will try to get a house. We would drive around to check out the signs posted on some places. Then someone told my mum about a house and we went to look at it. The family were still living there and happily let us in to view.
It was nice, clean and its condition was very good as it didn't need much renovations and the house number got to me. 118. Loosely said in Cantonese, prosper everyday! Also, it was within the same area as mum’s place, near enough to drive or walk, far enough to be out of sight! *hahaha*
Two days later, I put a deposit. Within the week, I was looking for a sufficient bank loan. Almost gave up cos I was being given really bad deals till mum said go to her bank. True enough…it worked out. The family were moving to a new house which was still being renovated thus we came to an agreement that they stay on till the bank was ready with their cheque, which usually took a couple of months, 3 the most.
Dad passed on in mid March, we found the house in May. My older brother married in mid May and mum had gone for the wedding only to return in early June. Just after securing the bank loan application, mum left for her holiday and I continued the mad runs to the bank and lawyers and work.
A day before mum was due to return home, I was watching the puppies playing in the porch. The other adult dogs were busy sniffing and mucking about in the garden whilst two others i.e. Guzz and Sayang, were happily racing around the house.
I could hear the quick and loud tapping of their nails hitting the cement as they turned the corner from the back of the house. They were neck to neck and breathing fast and checking out the other. You could feel the excitement in them as they charged towards the front, towards me! I only had the wall on my left and the car on my right as these two came closer without stopping.
Immediately I pushed both puppies under the car and just managed to lift one leg up as Sayang went under me but alas! Guzz the devil slammed through my other leg at the same time and there I was…short lived super girl; more like a bowling pin being bowled over. Up into the air I flew and landed a couple of feet ahead onto the hard floor! I landed flat hard on my front, knocking the wind out of me. Stunned for awhile before the combination of short breaths, reality and pain ran through me; I lay there... quiet.
I called out for help who was already on her way because she heard the loud thud as I hit the floor! Yep, it was loud. *ouch!* I tried to move slowly, like a scene out of a movie where a fallen body from a tall building lies; my left arm was by my side while my right was above my head. Can’t remember how my legs were but I’m sure you can imagine. * hahaha *
The puppies, stunned at having been shoved rudely under the car; crawled out to me. Licking my face, toes and fingers as if to comfort me and eventually began nibbling to get me up to play. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry cos it was both painful and funny at the same time. Not to mention, the other buffalos were unaware of what had happened and continued their games in the garden!
Anyway, I suffered a small fracture at the base of the radius of my left arm. The orthopedic surgeon said I did not need an operation and placed me in a moulded cast securing it with crepe bandages. I was in cast for about three weeks, then in a sling for another two weeks. All in all, I was off work for 6 weeks.
It was during the early weeks I had all the time to go to the lawyers and bank whenever needed to sign my life away for this house. It was all going smoothly and in one month, I was told the cheque was ready! The family whom I bought the house from were surprised and I ended up collecting two months’ rent from them.
All this time, the search for a house and coming upon this one; the frustrations at the banks for a loan and achieving at the same one that secured my parent’s house; the fall and eventual healing process; the running around in getting the necessary papers done up; the fast process and house rent I collected; the much needed and not really needed renovations completing in one month; picking the right days from my hectic work schedule and the moving in….all of these, started out with lots of stress and bad tempers but they worked out properly each time as if led by some unforeseen source.
I felt my father was the one who led me to this house, who helped me to cool down and calmly make some decisions, who helped me see that behind every mishap, something good came out of it. After all, it was his wish that I get my own house and I believe this was his work.
He doesn’t haunt me no, but I know he is there. Watching, quietly showing the way as I live my life as when he lived. I still miss him but I know, he’s always here for us. Behind every dark cloud, there’s a silver lining and my dad is my silver lining. * Smile..*
* Dad ~ part one *
Today, mum and I went to Fairy Park. It is a private cemetery and columbarium near my home. It’s a mix of the Christians and Chinese religious sects. It is where my father’s ashes are, in the small chapel. Well cared grounds with tombstones of similar designs line the borders of the wide roads, uniformly arranged neatly in rows and rows upon the hillsides creating a tidy garden.
Large standing Buddhas on lotus base; dressed in orange robes and hands in front, one open palm facing up while the other held straight above it with fingers pointing upwards. You will find multiple statues of them along the borders of the grave sites of the Chinese sects. Statues of angels in white robes, half kneeling whilst holding a cross, border the Christian side.
Two peacock heads rise above a flower bed on your right, welcome you as you drive through the main entrance which is a miniature great wall, designed with long ago mighty Chinese warriors in their armours standing at the sides of the wall. Pass the wall, you’ll follow the trail of Buddhas standing along the road. To get to the chapel, you will pass the beautifully kept and neat rows and rows of tombs on your right.
On your left, is a man made cave with a pond in front. It is a mini museum of the Chinese ancestral gods and their history. Figures of the famous animal gods are seen among the foliage surrounding the pond. Adding yet, to another tale of ancient and religious beliefs.
Continue onwards, you’ll see a little chapel with a blue roof and a cross on its steeple. This area, you will find angels along the way as it lines the Christian tombs on your left. Some mausoleums span the upper part of one section giving it a surreal feeling. As we parked in front of one angel….it is all quiet except for the soothing chants coming through the speakers under the statues. Gathering the flowers and tea lights, we walk into the chapel.
As I prepared the table and tea light holders while mum did the flowers; the caretaker appeared. He apologizes for not having seen us earlier and helps with what’s left to do. Then he goes off to sit at the entrance while we say our prayers. As usual, I finished before mum and wandered to check out the ‘newcomers’.
When dad died, these guys from Fairy Park, brought us here to pick a spot for dad. We decided to get a double and picked one at the exact center of that block. D3 is his spot number. It was by coincidence when we later realised the number 3 because that is our parent’s house number.
He is now surrounded by many others and I tell him he must be having a good time as he has ladies on both his sides! *smile*. The chapel is air conditioned and they play Christian tunes softly to create a soothing atmosphere. It works as I don’t feel scared or creeped out each time I go there. Very peaceful feeling…
Large standing Buddhas on lotus base; dressed in orange robes and hands in front, one open palm facing up while the other held straight above it with fingers pointing upwards. You will find multiple statues of them along the borders of the grave sites of the Chinese sects. Statues of angels in white robes, half kneeling whilst holding a cross, border the Christian side.
Two peacock heads rise above a flower bed on your right, welcome you as you drive through the main entrance which is a miniature great wall, designed with long ago mighty Chinese warriors in their armours standing at the sides of the wall. Pass the wall, you’ll follow the trail of Buddhas standing along the road. To get to the chapel, you will pass the beautifully kept and neat rows and rows of tombs on your right.
On your left, is a man made cave with a pond in front. It is a mini museum of the Chinese ancestral gods and their history. Figures of the famous animal gods are seen among the foliage surrounding the pond. Adding yet, to another tale of ancient and religious beliefs.
Continue onwards, you’ll see a little chapel with a blue roof and a cross on its steeple. This area, you will find angels along the way as it lines the Christian tombs on your left. Some mausoleums span the upper part of one section giving it a surreal feeling. As we parked in front of one angel….it is all quiet except for the soothing chants coming through the speakers under the statues. Gathering the flowers and tea lights, we walk into the chapel.
As I prepared the table and tea light holders while mum did the flowers; the caretaker appeared. He apologizes for not having seen us earlier and helps with what’s left to do. Then he goes off to sit at the entrance while we say our prayers. As usual, I finished before mum and wandered to check out the ‘newcomers’.
When dad died, these guys from Fairy Park, brought us here to pick a spot for dad. We decided to get a double and picked one at the exact center of that block. D3 is his spot number. It was by coincidence when we later realised the number 3 because that is our parent’s house number.
He is now surrounded by many others and I tell him he must be having a good time as he has ladies on both his sides! *smile*. The chapel is air conditioned and they play Christian tunes softly to create a soothing atmosphere. It works as I don’t feel scared or creeped out each time I go there. Very peaceful feeling…
Monday, 12 September 2005
** Happy Father's Day Dad **
***
As I sauntered into the kitchen my brains telling me where to head for the breakfast already prepared in my mind since this morning…I pick up the papers with headlines about bullies on it. Dropping it on the table, I reach into the fridge for the 'can't believe it's not butter' tub and the so-so kaya I bought yesterday. What to do? When you have cravings, you settle for the next best thing just to ‘buang gian’. Though it’s tolerable, it’s so scrumptious when I picture myself biting into the bread. Ah…the power of the mind.
Anyway, after some twenty eight minutes later, (had to open the can of condensed milk, fill into the bottle…to make my coffee and buttering every side of my 3 slices of bread and then layering kaya thickly….) I finally sat down. Arranged my coffee to my right side so as not to ‘accidentally’ knock it down (oh, you not met klutzy me), bread in front and papers on my left….I start reading breakfast.
Mmmm….some nice pics of cute men but wait! There are kids who look and dress like them with them. Ah…dads and their boys. Typical to have boys with boys, where are the girls? Not that I’m complaining…*smile* Then I realize it’s Father’s Day today. Now, that has wiped the smile off my face. I lost my dad to cancer three years ago and I guess you never actually stop missing the ones you love.
He didn’t talk much to me about things. Only when he’d get into chatty mode or in a bad mood, that’s when I get to dig up some family skeletons! He loved food and he’s drummed that in us since I can remember. We love our food though I draw a line at eating out of the norm stuff. He taught quite a bit of western food while mum did the local dishes. Their passion for spicy food crept into us and we too can’t resist the variety we see oh, everywhere in Malaysia.
While I was in primary school, we used to breakfast together. Mum would make half boiled eggs; 2 for me and 3 for him. He’d then break them into bowls and we would add in the kicap and pepper and I loved breaking my yolks and mixing them up. On the count of three, we'd both swallow our eggs to see who finished first! It was fun and he tried all ways to get me to eat cos I was very very skinny then and they were darn worried. Even on days when we ate out, we would see who could eat the most satay. Couple of times we had a total of 80 sticks between the two of us not counting the black mee, lor mee and ying yong noodles! Mum would shake her head sometimes and chide us but it was fun for us all. Of course, we’ll be belching and groaning and moaning about how full up we are, tummies sticking out as we take a slow walk home. That walk always helped a bit.
Dad was not physical in showing his emotions so when I did hug him on certain occasions; he’d be gruff about it and grunts a ‘mmph’ at contact. Guess that’s where I get it from…I take a while before I would hug a person I’ve known for a while unless….these days it’s easier but I am not consistent so people tend to misread me weird, sometimes warm sometimes aloof. Can I blame them?
Since dad was diagnosed with cancer, it had been very hard on us all. For years this proud man who never stayed in the hospital and was strong like an ox, lost his confidence when he had a mild mild heart attack due to some complication in his treatment, he became anxious when he was short of breath and preferred staying in the hospital….it was painful to see him lose hope. Then his cancer went into remission and he became more of his old self and it was almost as before. Though I must admit that tempers flared often as he fought for his independence to do things as freely as he used to when he was stronger. Especially with me, I’d be yelling at him to eat or something just to push him out of the self pity he put himself in. People would look at us and think me to be a heartless kid but my dad knew, he knew what I tried to do cos he dumped his frustrations on us and we were not about to let him go down with them. Usually after the flare ups he’d do as he is told when he cools off and tries to redeem his stubbornness with jokes.
That’s living with a sick person as they struggle within themselves with their sickness and the limitations that come along. He soon had a breakfast gang whom he met every morning, coming home nearly mid-day and resting till lunch time. He began going to church regularly, seems a norm when people get sick…look for god.
Through all that, we went about our lives for the next few years, adjusting to his varying mood and health changes. We had our selfish moments at one time or the other as we tried coping with the fact he was a living time bomb, to be prepared for anything at any time. Fragile and precious he was.
We went to Rome in 2001 in the middle of summer. The heat was overwhelming. The hotel had no air conditioning and nights were warm and quite difficult to sleep. That didn’t stop my parents from singing in my ears every night haha. We went to the Basilica, did a day trip tour of Pisa, Florence and Michelangelo. 16 chapels was a mistake as we were literally being moved by the crowd from room to room. Just stand there and when you feel bodies pressing into you, forget walking. I assure you, you will find yourself in the next room within minutes! The biggest mistake was in St Peter’s church. We went to the mid balcony inside the dome and went through a doorway to head back down. Almost halfway some very narrow slab stones stairway, we realized we were ‘accidentally’ heading up towards the highest peak of St Peter’s.
Poor dad, he sat in every window nook and crevice we found along the way and bless my friend who came along, was patient, helpful and caring. We couldn’t go back down as it was narrow and people were coming up. Finally at the top, after climbing steeper stones with a rope to hang on to; I told dad to check out the view. He went ‘bah!’ and sat down catching his breath. To our dismay, we had to walk down halfway before we could get into a lift to the bottom and dad was quite furious at Rome by then. Haha. All in all we got back fine and I must admit I was oblivious to the chorus that night. Who knows, I probably joined in too! *Smirk*
Few months later we began suspecting the worst as dad kept complaining aches in his limbs. His next check up confirmed and even though the doctor spoke to him, we realized he was not fully aware of the situation. Mum and I kept telling him to sort his bank books and papers, etc as he was fond of hiding stuff in his things. I realized he didn’t understand the extent of his illness and it was a difficult decision for the family to make whether to tell him or not. Personally, I felt he ought to be told so he could finish what he wanted.
Finally, I asked him if he understood what the doctor told him and he said yeah, that the cancer had gone into his bones. ‘But I will be ok right?’ My heart tore to see the light of hope go out in his eyes when I told him… for the first time I cradled my crying father as he mourned for his limited time with us. It was hard on us both as I told him not to give in to his cancer and not lose faith in God; to be thankful God gave him 6 years to watch his grandchildren grow…It was a very emotional yet touching moment for me, the only time I felt so close to my dad.
Since that diagnosis, he was put on a morphine patch and due to his weakness; he was initially mostly nauseated and sleeping. He was more stoned than the Rolling Stones most times! Soon, he adjusted and we had moments of meals out together only this time he pinched at the food as he couldn’t taste well (medication he took affected his taste buds) and appetite was not so good. Another five months and he got worse, sometimes hallucinating about dead old friends visiting him and he started to have this glazed look in his eyes.
Pretty soon he hardly talked and stayed in bed, holding his knees and rocking side to side, he’d be humming tune after tune. His favourite… Jesus loves me, still brings tears whenever I hear it today.
We believe he hardly noticed his pain thanks to the patch but it left us little chances of communicating with him much. We would talk to him, encouraged him to go when he wanted as we didn’t want to see him suffer long. He’d respond to us when we had to sponge and change him by moving himself in the right directions.
The day my sister was flying in from the UK, he had suddenly gotten up and was flailing his fingers at the tube that was inserted the night before through his nose. The maid and I were trying to stop him from pulling it out and I was shouting over his ‘aaiyah!’s when suddenly he shouted ‘I am not pulling’ . Maid and I looked at each other behind his back and grinned! We couldn’t help it…we had not heard him say anything for three weeks. He said his nose was itchy so he rubbed the side of it for relief. He asked to go out of the room and we helped him but almost immediately after sitting down on the chair he wanted to go back to his bed.
That was the last I heard my dad speak. He left us four days later and till today I still miss him. Our challenges, bets, jokes and fights. I do know he is much happier now, free of pain and I happily wait the day I will see him again in that place somewhere. *smile* I love you dad.
Happy Father’s Day.
19th June 2005.
As I sauntered into the kitchen my brains telling me where to head for the breakfast already prepared in my mind since this morning…I pick up the papers with headlines about bullies on it. Dropping it on the table, I reach into the fridge for the 'can't believe it's not butter' tub and the so-so kaya I bought yesterday. What to do? When you have cravings, you settle for the next best thing just to ‘buang gian’. Though it’s tolerable, it’s so scrumptious when I picture myself biting into the bread. Ah…the power of the mind.
Anyway, after some twenty eight minutes later, (had to open the can of condensed milk, fill into the bottle…to make my coffee and buttering every side of my 3 slices of bread and then layering kaya thickly….) I finally sat down. Arranged my coffee to my right side so as not to ‘accidentally’ knock it down (oh, you not met klutzy me), bread in front and papers on my left….I start reading breakfast.
Mmmm….some nice pics of cute men but wait! There are kids who look and dress like them with them. Ah…dads and their boys. Typical to have boys with boys, where are the girls? Not that I’m complaining…*smile* Then I realize it’s Father’s Day today. Now, that has wiped the smile off my face. I lost my dad to cancer three years ago and I guess you never actually stop missing the ones you love.
He didn’t talk much to me about things. Only when he’d get into chatty mode or in a bad mood, that’s when I get to dig up some family skeletons! He loved food and he’s drummed that in us since I can remember. We love our food though I draw a line at eating out of the norm stuff. He taught quite a bit of western food while mum did the local dishes. Their passion for spicy food crept into us and we too can’t resist the variety we see oh, everywhere in Malaysia.
While I was in primary school, we used to breakfast together. Mum would make half boiled eggs; 2 for me and 3 for him. He’d then break them into bowls and we would add in the kicap and pepper and I loved breaking my yolks and mixing them up. On the count of three, we'd both swallow our eggs to see who finished first! It was fun and he tried all ways to get me to eat cos I was very very skinny then and they were darn worried. Even on days when we ate out, we would see who could eat the most satay. Couple of times we had a total of 80 sticks between the two of us not counting the black mee, lor mee and ying yong noodles! Mum would shake her head sometimes and chide us but it was fun for us all. Of course, we’ll be belching and groaning and moaning about how full up we are, tummies sticking out as we take a slow walk home. That walk always helped a bit.
Dad was not physical in showing his emotions so when I did hug him on certain occasions; he’d be gruff about it and grunts a ‘mmph’ at contact. Guess that’s where I get it from…I take a while before I would hug a person I’ve known for a while unless….these days it’s easier but I am not consistent so people tend to misread me weird, sometimes warm sometimes aloof. Can I blame them?
Since dad was diagnosed with cancer, it had been very hard on us all. For years this proud man who never stayed in the hospital and was strong like an ox, lost his confidence when he had a mild mild heart attack due to some complication in his treatment, he became anxious when he was short of breath and preferred staying in the hospital….it was painful to see him lose hope. Then his cancer went into remission and he became more of his old self and it was almost as before. Though I must admit that tempers flared often as he fought for his independence to do things as freely as he used to when he was stronger. Especially with me, I’d be yelling at him to eat or something just to push him out of the self pity he put himself in. People would look at us and think me to be a heartless kid but my dad knew, he knew what I tried to do cos he dumped his frustrations on us and we were not about to let him go down with them. Usually after the flare ups he’d do as he is told when he cools off and tries to redeem his stubbornness with jokes.
That’s living with a sick person as they struggle within themselves with their sickness and the limitations that come along. He soon had a breakfast gang whom he met every morning, coming home nearly mid-day and resting till lunch time. He began going to church regularly, seems a norm when people get sick…look for god.
Through all that, we went about our lives for the next few years, adjusting to his varying mood and health changes. We had our selfish moments at one time or the other as we tried coping with the fact he was a living time bomb, to be prepared for anything at any time. Fragile and precious he was.
We went to Rome in 2001 in the middle of summer. The heat was overwhelming. The hotel had no air conditioning and nights were warm and quite difficult to sleep. That didn’t stop my parents from singing in my ears every night haha. We went to the Basilica, did a day trip tour of Pisa, Florence and Michelangelo. 16 chapels was a mistake as we were literally being moved by the crowd from room to room. Just stand there and when you feel bodies pressing into you, forget walking. I assure you, you will find yourself in the next room within minutes! The biggest mistake was in St Peter’s church. We went to the mid balcony inside the dome and went through a doorway to head back down. Almost halfway some very narrow slab stones stairway, we realized we were ‘accidentally’ heading up towards the highest peak of St Peter’s.
Poor dad, he sat in every window nook and crevice we found along the way and bless my friend who came along, was patient, helpful and caring. We couldn’t go back down as it was narrow and people were coming up. Finally at the top, after climbing steeper stones with a rope to hang on to; I told dad to check out the view. He went ‘bah!’ and sat down catching his breath. To our dismay, we had to walk down halfway before we could get into a lift to the bottom and dad was quite furious at Rome by then. Haha. All in all we got back fine and I must admit I was oblivious to the chorus that night. Who knows, I probably joined in too! *Smirk*
Few months later we began suspecting the worst as dad kept complaining aches in his limbs. His next check up confirmed and even though the doctor spoke to him, we realized he was not fully aware of the situation. Mum and I kept telling him to sort his bank books and papers, etc as he was fond of hiding stuff in his things. I realized he didn’t understand the extent of his illness and it was a difficult decision for the family to make whether to tell him or not. Personally, I felt he ought to be told so he could finish what he wanted.
Finally, I asked him if he understood what the doctor told him and he said yeah, that the cancer had gone into his bones. ‘But I will be ok right?’ My heart tore to see the light of hope go out in his eyes when I told him… for the first time I cradled my crying father as he mourned for his limited time with us. It was hard on us both as I told him not to give in to his cancer and not lose faith in God; to be thankful God gave him 6 years to watch his grandchildren grow…It was a very emotional yet touching moment for me, the only time I felt so close to my dad.
Since that diagnosis, he was put on a morphine patch and due to his weakness; he was initially mostly nauseated and sleeping. He was more stoned than the Rolling Stones most times! Soon, he adjusted and we had moments of meals out together only this time he pinched at the food as he couldn’t taste well (medication he took affected his taste buds) and appetite was not so good. Another five months and he got worse, sometimes hallucinating about dead old friends visiting him and he started to have this glazed look in his eyes.
Pretty soon he hardly talked and stayed in bed, holding his knees and rocking side to side, he’d be humming tune after tune. His favourite… Jesus loves me, still brings tears whenever I hear it today.
We believe he hardly noticed his pain thanks to the patch but it left us little chances of communicating with him much. We would talk to him, encouraged him to go when he wanted as we didn’t want to see him suffer long. He’d respond to us when we had to sponge and change him by moving himself in the right directions.
The day my sister was flying in from the UK, he had suddenly gotten up and was flailing his fingers at the tube that was inserted the night before through his nose. The maid and I were trying to stop him from pulling it out and I was shouting over his ‘aaiyah!’s when suddenly he shouted ‘I am not pulling’ . Maid and I looked at each other behind his back and grinned! We couldn’t help it…we had not heard him say anything for three weeks. He said his nose was itchy so he rubbed the side of it for relief. He asked to go out of the room and we helped him but almost immediately after sitting down on the chair he wanted to go back to his bed.
That was the last I heard my dad speak. He left us four days later and till today I still miss him. Our challenges, bets, jokes and fights. I do know he is much happier now, free of pain and I happily wait the day I will see him again in that place somewhere. *smile* I love you dad.
Happy Father’s Day.
19th June 2005.
Thursday, 8 September 2005
* Samo the male *
* 'Duh' ...or not?
September 8th 2005 *
“So who shall I say is calling?” came the yappy question in doggy Ville.
“I am... Samo.” was the stiff reply. In ¾ time, the beat of long nails clicking on the floor, the female walked as steadily as she could muster to the other seated at the end of the porch.
Lifting her head up as the female approached, she gave a shy smile as she looked past to see the tan strong male standing quietly and straight. He too sensed her curiosity and looked steadily in her direction, letting her know he was ready when she allowed.
Haha…yes my friends, that was a teaser of the romance between Samo and Sayang; Guzz’s parents! A brief history of Samo will be today’s blog. The tall, handsome tan male among the two sweet ladies…Sayang and Sheba.
Samo actually grew up in the house across from us. He was brought there with his sister when they were so tiny. He was quite the destroyer while he was growing up. He chewed thru anything he could sink his teeth in, from shoes to papers to wires…anything. The final straw was when he began chewing on parts of the cars in the house. Bits of bumpers and wiring cables were not safe from his itching jaws. His owner, became so irate and frustrated; would hit him at first with a cane and when that didn’t stop him, he used sticks and eventually anything he could get his hands on including steel pipes.
Honestly, I don’t know how to explain Samo’s self destructive manner. You would think after all that beating, he would not do it again yet he became worse and worse each time. I was on my way out to work one day when I overheard his owner ask my parents if anyone would take Samo off his hands. I didn’t stay around to hear the rest of it as I was late.
Few days later, I came home and there he was, standing in my garden. Joining in Sayang’s and Sheba’s chorus of welcome for me, I smiled to myself thinking, ‘Well, better here than there.’ I asked mum as I got into the hallway and she said my brother took pity on him. When he came over, he was known as ‘Brown’ which I thought was a stupid name. So I got my two young nephews to name him and Samo he became.
Funnily enough, he never bit anything in our house, not even a piece of paper. He was happy to be the thorn among the roses and actually turned out to be a really sweet fella. He had a quiet nature and was sometimes plain…’duh?’ Sometimes he would give this low or high pitched curdling sound from his throat when he sees me and all I needed to do was call his name and he would go on and on till I tell him to stop. It is his affectionate call and till today, I can still set him off once in awhile.
He is blessed with a nice lean cut and medium shade of tan. Overall, he is a handsome dog and eventually, the ‘dog’ who never gave Sayang a chance to overcome her first period! We caught him trying and we did our best to keep them apart during this time, but I must tell you….when a female is in heat; there’s no stopping the crazy male. They will somehow jump or climb the highest wall to get to the other side. Even if they are afraid of heights, sorry….it’s still do or die. I think it’s a male ego thing. Oh dear, I am sure I am gonna be sorry for saying that. *wink*
Sure enough, he got her…twice! And so came a litter of five. Three males and two females, which we all heaved huge sighs of relieve. Why? Because most people prefer male puppies to females and if you had more females in a litter, the stress of finding good homes is more stress!
Of the five, Guzz was the only odd one. He was a dirty black while the rest were white or tan, like their parents! Everyone would look at him and say, “Hey, why is that fella different from the rest?” and then turn their attention to the cute whites and tans forgetting him.
Me, lover of the underdogs; liked him the most and I told my parents that I was keeping him. I don’t know where I pulled his name out from but he didn’t complain…haha. He was quite the rascal amongst the rest and as he grew in the coming months, I noticed his coat was changing to tan! I was upset as I liked his original colour and every day I would warn him, ‘If you lose all your black, I will give you away.’ He must have prayed very hard cos till today, he still has some leftovers on the tips of his ears and tail!
Guzz has his mother’s shape and coat while he has his father’s colour. Thankfully he did not inherit his father’s ‘dumb sense’. However, Samo isn’t always as dumb as he appears to be. He did get Sayang twice-haha!! No, he can be smart sometimes. He cries out loud before you can smack him for doing something wrong. I tell you, he can yelp louder than any dog I’ve known and sounds as if he was being brutally abused (well, he had training...) but we had hardly touched him! Yep, that is his best performance every time.
The other time when he performs is when his dinner is late. He would let out a loud sigh every two minutes. The first five minutes, you’ll ask him what’s wrong and he’ll look at you sadly before letting out another. He starts again after you go away, the next ten minutes, you’ll be yelling at him to shut up! And the next victim will be the maid, who will be yelled at to feed the goddamn dog so to keep him quiet!!!
His timing was flawless, he’d start softly just before four in the evening and he goes on and on until food comes. Then he began fifteen minutes earlier and so it went on for a number of years. Today I learnt, he has stopped this for some time now. Nobody knows why but that’s Samo.
He is a fantastic rat catcher. He’d be fixated by the drain, patiently watching the entry way where he last saw it. Whichever rat that crossed his way, never survived. He caught them, shook them in one fluid motion and they were gone. My mum had been many times caught by surprise mingled with horror, disgust and some glee when she opens the door and almost stands on some of them.
Now tell me, how can you call this brilliant rat catcher a dumbo? He knows she’d go straight to the market that morning itself and buy him some liver and goodies to feed him and protect him from whatever he may have caught from biting them! Yummy! Duh or not…..he knows what he wants.
Well that’s all I can think of now about Samo, the father of my Guzz; brilliant rat catcher; used to sing annoyingly for his dinner and selectively ‘duh’s when he wishes. What a male. Sounds familiar? *wink wink*
With a Samo sigh and a duh…..later.
* juno's 1st blog! *
* Finally! My first blog! September 07th 2005 *
Hi hello…..
This is the third BLOG attempt for me as I lost the first to a power cut and the second better one to some fault in page opening in preview. All these before I could post them onto the site and they were irretrievable!!! The word BLOG itself gives me different ideas but I don’t think I am about to share them with you. :P
As 3 is my favourite number, it better be 3rd time lucky for me at this blogging bit. Otherwise I am gonna hang it up high and dry!! So…how do I write the better of the second blog that I lost? Well I hope it will be the best of the other two…
Ok…I am already at paragraph three. Well.… it is my blog, so I can cheat. Haha. As most of you know, junoqua is part pet part zodiac. Privacy is something I value especially online, what with today’s technology…hard to keep up…
Pic here is not the pet in junoqua. She will be posted some other time i.e. when I eventually get round to scanning her pic. She was a strong and lovable character and very close to me. Someday I shall do a blog on her.
Guzz, (pic above) the present joy and pain in my life; is my gorgeous son as many of my frens refer him as. I helped deliver him at birth along with his 3 other siblings at home, something I have done countless times before. He was a dirty black grey when young which was unusual cos his mum is white and his dad is brown! Alas, he began changing to brown and I warned him, if he lost all his black, I would give him away. Thus the few black bits along the tips of his ears and tail! :D
He is very smart (as all mothers would say of their own) but seriously he is, very smart. He understands every word I say but selectively does what he wants especially when he’s impatient or unforgiving. Mind you, they never forget your malicious snide attacks. He loves to goad me sometimes and stops himself when an ‘Oi!’ is thrown at him. He also knows when to take cover when his nana (that’s me) is in a frightful temper. He can be vocal like a car sensor while I back the car into the driveway or when I forget to bring him in from the sun after a bath or when it’s way past feed time or just plain whining for attention.
I talk to him all the time like a kid and chide him so often he actually pretends to pay attention while keeping one eye on something else. Often enough I had lectured him on wasting his food or not drinking enough water and he’d just go do whatever I say almost immediately as if to get me off his back! Too smart sometimes even my hair stands. All he needs to do now is talk and that will be the end of my blogging days as I don’t think my heart would be able to take it!
Best part is, with me being away so often; he still loves me unconditionally. Sometimes he is disloyal with new faces but he always comes back with a guilty look knowing his nana will always take him back. I always tell him that I am living the working dog’s life while he stays home, gets fed and only needs to bark when necessary.
Dogs have been a big part in my growing and still... growing years. They have taught me to be more tolerant especially to the human kind (sadly true); that patience will bring you food of life and for the tummy; to curb my fiery temper to becoming the better person I hope I am today:P ; helped calmed me in many situations; kept me entertained when I was bored and …not; or enjoyed my dramatic antics and role plays (at least they seemed to be so); listened to my laments and moans without saying “ I told you so! “, sometimes offering themselves as a cushion or pillow to lay my heavy head; tissues and hankies were not necessary and at times laying a paw or their head in my lap to let me know ‘ hey, it’s ok…’
Yes, they had been very good to me and I love them all for it. Losing them was very very hard, the cries you hear would make you think a whole family had died! Coping to go on without their company and sometimes having to make the sad and crucial decisions to put them out of their miseries was also a life learning process. Somehow or other, a new one would come along, not to take their place but to start the beginning of a new doggie chapter.
There were dogs in my home ever since I can remember. Maybe that’s why I am not easily afraid of strays or others, apart from my own. I had been bitten by one of our own at the age of five. My dad, God bless his soul was a fine and fair man by not faulting the dog first. He somehow knew that his rascally young urn was capable enough to be the main cause of the whole drama.
Truth be told that I had prodded the poor dog’s personal hidey-hole with a stick and mistook the warning growls for joyful pleasurable grunts! Thus she got me on my right cheek, much to the nanny’s horror and my sister’s dismay. That night I ended up at the doctor’s private house party (what coincidence) being stitched up in the glare of a bright lamp! And the best part I can remember was the beautiful indoor pool where I wanted to jump into. Mum was pissed enough for the day and marched me home telling me I will someday die because of my pets! Couple of months later, I received some stitches on my thumb for trying to feed some rice to the same dog with my fair hand. She either mistook my tiny hand for bones amongst the grains or she never forgave me! ;p
At one point we were breeding rottweillers and dad loved going to homes with the same breed to compare notes. One day I went along and while they chatted, I had walked straight up to the unusually huge rott. Much to the owner’s horror and surprise, they watched as the rott and I played with each other, one hand in its mouth while the other vigorously rubbed its massive head. We were having a good go at each other. It was a gentle giant, at least to me it was. The baffled owner commented it was the first time he had seen his dog play with a complete stranger in such manner. Apparently it had bitten some people before.
Later my dad told me not to do it again as it may affect the owners’ perception of their dogs and make them do silly things instead. But he knew I loved playing with them and coming away with scratches and red marks along my arms and legs was a norm for me. The only thing I didn’t do was put my head in their mouths!!! That would have caused a riot!! Haha
So I guess this is the end of my first blog. I guess for now, I will be blogging a lot on my romps and plays with my dogs and others I’ve met on my travels. I have lots to share, so dog lovers….this is gonna be fun!
A woof and a paw to you….later.
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