Tag Archives: Mother’s Day

Lauguidity

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I hate the feeling of dread, of putting off things I should be doing or should have done. I can’t really identify what it is that I’m putting off. I don’t want to either. I would have to do it then, wouldn’t I. So I rather sit with this discomfort, this dread till it passes somehow. I wash the breakfast dishes, sweeps the dust off the floor and now here I am, at the keyboard.

Thoughts are not flowing. The words are hard to come by. I feel languid. I feel limp. My iMac freezes again and I’m on my laptop. My second cup of tea is almost finished. I’m using tea to fill in the gaps like I used to use cigarettes. At least it has no bad side effects except increased trips to the bathroom. I’m restless. I move to the deck and repotted some tomato seedlings. I’m not sitting stuck.

I cut some tulips and elephant ear blooms from my flowerbed to take to mom’s grave this afternoon. I put them in water and stuck them in the cooler to keep fresh. I head out to London Drugs to get a bath mat for my father. While there, I also got a new pair of sunglasses. I made sure that the bottom of the lenses does not touch my face, leaving their mark long after taking them off. The next stop, The Asian Market for incense sticks and josh paper. Not sure whether we will use them but I will have them. The last stop was to get a potted geranium for mom. It will last a while longer than the tulips. Mom loved flowers.

That was yesterday. Another year. Another Mother’s Day. Now it’s a reminder that my mother is no longer here, a reminder that it’s the day before that she fell and broke her hip and the downward spiral to her final resting place 5 months later. I suppose I am grieving, not only for her but for all of life. I have had more than a few regrets, of roads not taken. I have to live with it all somehow, someway. I am no Frank Sinatra. I didn’t do it my way.

Amazement

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I am amazed at how bright and hot the May sun is. By 9 am the greenhouse was already 30℃ with shade down, vents and door opened. My sunroom was bathed in bright light by 7 am. It showed every little speck of dust. The sun came through as a cloudy haze. I ran my fingers on a window pane. It was gritty. So it wasn’t my eyes. It was dust.

I am amazed how easy and hard it was to clean the windows. A squirt bottle filled with apple cider vinegar laced water, a dust cloth and a stepping stool were all the tools I needed. Squirt and wipe, squirt and wipe. I am amazed at how many windows I got in the sunroom – 3 wallls. I got hot and sweaty after 1½ walls. I’m tired, too, hopping on and off the stool. I’m having a breather and a cup of tea.

I am amazed at how green and lush everything has grown in the greenhouse the last couple of days. The snowpeas are almost even with the rock wall. The lettuce bushy. The spinach is catching up. The radish are radishing. I planted most of the pepper seedlings in the raised bed yesterday. I will have to repot some of the tomatoes or plant them soon. They are getting spindly and outgrowing their pots. Then there’s the cucumbers and bitter melons. The bottle gourd has not yet germinated. Will it?

I am amazed that Mother’s Day is a week away. How time flies. It will be a year since mom fell the day before Mother’s Day and broke her hip. I remembered the phone call from my father as I was just sitting down at a restaurant with my friends. The rest is history as people would say. I am amazed at her resiliency. Her hip mended. She was still bright, alert and orientated x3. She could ambulate and get to the bathroom on her own. She was still fiercely independent, disliking homecare. But the trauma was too much for her body. Though she didn’t qualify for a nursing home, she did for heaven 5 months later.

I am amazed at how beautiful her tulips are, blooming away for her. I am happy to be so amazed.