Forthnights

Oh, i believe in yesteday....

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.
Now it looks as though their here to stay,
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be.
There’s a shadow hanging over me.
Oh, yesterday came suddenly


Troubles come and troubles go. Problem is when they seem to come so easily but never go away so simply. Problems seem to just plague my family.

Like I have told you, my mother is in a relapse. I know I have said that I am prepared for it. I know that I said that I’m ready for it, but the simple truth is, its never easy. It breaks my heart every time I have to watch her in her sad state. She is now in the sort of blur mode, not capable of saying anything much intelligent, and she just wanders around the house, says random things here and there, and cannot concentrate on a proper conversation. Her hygiene has dropped a notch, and I have to keep tabs on whether she has bath, brushed her teeth or changed her cloths. She just does whatever I tell her to, and at times like this, I become very stern with her. As a result, she just asks me if she has been a good girl listening to my instructions. I told her that she was in a relapse and that she needed to realise that. She just turned sour and refused to talk to me.
Normally, even when I’m not around the entire day, she would manage her own meals, either cook or buy some food. But today after spending the entire day in college, I came back and the first thing I asked her was if she has eaten. Her answer was no. She didn’t want to eat, but I knew she had no eaten anything the entire day. That’s just how she is now; not able to function as a person. Though she hasn’t deteriorated to the point where she cant take care of her hygiene, she is now unable to have a proper conversation with anyone and I find it difficult trying to communicate to her on a regular level. In the end, it just comes down to me telling her what to do and not do, and so not to upset me, she obeys.

As for my dad, what can I say? I know I have painted a picture of a selfish and unfaithful man. I know I have shown my indifference towards him and his problems. But again, the simple truth is, he is still my father, and I feel sorry for him. He came over today to help me. He had left his old car with me, so that he can use my motorbike to save on petrol. But the car broke down when I was driving it, and we had to push to the side of the road. Now, we have to send it to the mechanic, and God knows how much it would cost, and where on earth we are going to find the money for it. But as we sat in my room, just before he left, he asked me “What am I going to do with my life son? Nothing I do seems to bare any fruit.” At that moment, I just felt so sorry for him. Yes, he made the choices, but I honestly think he didn’t expect it to turn out this way. “Where am I going to be 5 years from now? Am I destined to live out the rest of my life like a bachelor? If your mother can’t stand to be around me, where am I to go if I can’t stay with you boys?”

I didn’t have an answer for him. I told him frankly that he and my mother cant stay together from the way things are. But he should just take things one step at a time, try to earn some cash that we so desperately need. He told me that something gave him some hope recently. He heard through my cousin that his older brother, the one that refused to speak to him for 5 years after he converted, comment that he admired my fathers fighting spirit. After hitting rock bottom, and going below rock bottom, my father is still fighting to put things together, despite the odds. I told him that my uncle had a good point there. It would have been so easy to just give in to the pressure and loose it. But here he is, still trying to sort things out. I consoled him, saying that he has made more than his share of disastrous mistakes in life, but that it was ok, as long as you pick yourself up and battle on. For some reason, I felt that it was the right time to tell him what I wrote in my blog, about whether results alone counted or whether effort should be considered. I told him frankly that I never blamed him for the lack of money on our part, because I knew he was doing his best. I told him that being with that witch of a woman has broken his spirit and confidence in himself. I told him that I sometimes wonder what happened to the father who raised me up with good values. The father who told us that it did not matter what place we got in class, but that the results were a reflection of our best efforts, the father that taught us that courtesy should always be upheld, as a sign of respect. I told him that being with that woman has destroyed the very core values that he upheld and passed to his son. That caught his attention. He related how when they were doing the canteen business together, she refused to give him even a cent of their collection of over RM 40 thousand in the month. She just avoided here and there, and when she couldn’t avoid anymore, she just said that she never promised him anything.

I honestly don’t know how my father ever fell in love and married such a cunning, selfish and deceitful leech, but what is done is done. I told him he would never ever get that from our family, that as ‘spineless’, ‘soft’ or ‘weak’ as we are in dealing with others, we know how to take care of our own family and to share in what we have. “She has destroyed you in so many ways, down to the core of your character.” I don’t think I have ever given a full account on my father’s life in this blog. Perhaps in the near future I will.

In the mean time, as usual, money is the biggest and hardest block to get by. People say money can’t buy happiness, money cant buy you love. True, but the lack of money can certainly cause a lot of hardship. There are times when I just day dream that I found a big bag of cash, and with it, so many of my problems could be eased, so many more things could be done to improve the way things are right now and make everyone just a bit more comfortable. So many times I wish I had a car of my own, like my secondary school friend. The guy has never worked in his life. His studies are paid for by his parents, he gets a generous allowance, he has the latest cloths, latest shoes, latest phones, and he drives around in a car of his own. He has no real life worries like living on a shoe string or trying to piece together a broken home. How I wish to trade places with him and live his life. As had as I try to resist, I become envious of what he has, and what everyone else seems to have and I don’t. Heck, I don’t really need a car, and I can even do without he fancy cloths and shoes, but is it so wrong of me to at least be entitled to have enough money to get by? Just now, I had to give my father RM50 dollars to take the train back to my brothers place. He told me he didn’t need so much, but I just told him to take it, since I did work part time over the holidays. Do you know what it feels like having to hear your father tell you he is poor and needs some cash to take the train? I gave him whatever I had, willingly I might add. The issue is not the giving of the money, but being reminded of just what a sorry state you are in. I know I have said this before, but here it is again; I hate having not enough money, I hate knowing that I don’t buy newer cloths to replace old my torn and ragged ones because I have no money. I hate having to say no to friends invitations for holidays because I can’t afford it. I hate having to wear the same old torn jeans because it’s the only one I have. I hate wearing the same sneakers for every occasion, whether it is sports or a day at the mall. I hate going to the barber for my RM8 haircut because I cant afford the RM15 per cut at the saloons. I hate being poor.

posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 2:33 am Comments: 0