10 October 2010


Of late, I have been thinking about my mother, about how much she has aged over the years. I think and worry about her health, her mortality etc.

She was young once, like me, like all of us. I am sure she had her hopes, her wishes and her dreams in life, which she gave up in exchange for her family. When she was 40, I was just 15 and in secondary 3. Everything she did, she did it for her family, her husband, her children and for us. To a certain extent, I am glad that she is somewhat a happier person these days, free from the bondage of her life. We do not live forever, and the fragility of life was not something I think about when I was younger. I guess when we were young, we take things for granted and never thought life was so ephemeral. Old age and mortality were not on our young minds.

Now, it seems our lives are held by a thread, and a thin one too. How long would I live, how long would he live, and how long would she live? Somehow, it seems any moment could be our last. So, I want my mum to live a life not for us, but for herself. If there really is another life after this, I would want to repay her again, and again.