Mom problems again....
Why is it that problems seem to come in waves and waves?
2 months ago, my mother left; went back up north determined to spend the rest of her life there. She found a church that was willing to keep her there. So for 2 months she lived in the church living off the church and her own money. At the same time, I just started out in my first job and my brother quit his. We both pretty much moved out of our rented house and stayed separately; him at his pastors place since it was nearer to church, and me at my girlfriends place since it was nearer to work for me.
For 2 days and nights in a row, my boss, my colleagues and I were up until 3 am, getting ready a multi-million dollar proposal that I was to submit on Thursday all the way in Sarawak. Wednesday was the final push before my flight on Thursday. But on Wednesday afternoon, I received a call from my mother, she said she was taking then next bus down to KL and wanted come visit for a few days. I told her I could not be there to pick her up, and I would not be around. But she got cut off before I could say anything. I called my brother and asked that he handled the matter, but since we had to way of contacting her, we were stuck at waiting. So I continued my work, kept my fingers crossed that something will work out somehow, At 3a.m., after loading 3 large boxes work of documents into my car, I drove hope to catch a few precious hours of sleep before driving to the airport first thing in the morning. I had hoped that my mother did not make the trip after all, but somehow I had a feeling she did. Where was she at the moment?
The next day, after touching down in Bintulu Sarawak, I receive a call from my mother. The area code showed that she was indeed back in the Klang Valley, but she was more interested in reminding me of the RM7.50 I supposedly owed her. I told her I was not there to pick her up. I asked her where she was, but she would not tell me more than to say she was in PJ somewhere. That night, my brother went back to our place looking to see if she was at home. She had the keys to the house, and the natural thing for her to do was to go home, but she was no where to be found. Later my brother called me and told me he found out where she was and will go to her. As it turned out, she was at some park in PJ, sleeping on the streets. She refused to go home with my brother, and insisted on staying in the park. From what he described, she was not her full self again, talking a lot of nonsense and a bit argumentative; a sure sign of her being in a relapse. She was also horribly thin again, as is always the case when she no longer takes medication.
Failing to persuade her to come along, my brother amazingly lets her sleep in the park. And all this while, I am across the south china sea, unable to do anything. The next morning, my girlfriend calls to inform of more problems; my car as well as hers were giving problems again, and needed urgent repairs. There goes a few hundred ringgit again. Her brother borrowed her car and promised to be home by 10pm but came back only at 4am. I called my brother again when I was on the way back, and he updated me on what was happening. She was taking my mother back home to wash up, bath and eat. She lost 2 of her bags sleeping out in the park; no doubt stolen by people. Thank goodness she was not attacked or raped.4 The thought of her sleeping in the dangerous outside in KL frightens me. Its one thing for her to do that in a small town where everyone knows her, buts its totally another to do the same thing in a big city where robbers and bandit cut off your hands for your handbag without the slightest provocation. How can she be so silly? How can she claim to be well what she fails to make sound judgement on matters like this? Of life and limb! From talking to my girlfriend earlier, I knew she would not be receptive to my mother living in her place, especially when she was in such a relapse and hard to handled. But what is there to do?
No one lives in our place and my brother is just squatting at someone else's place. With no other choice before me, I requested to her to let my mother stay, at the very least for the night. I understood her unwillingness to put up with my mother and her relapses, but as her son, there is no way in my good conscience could I go to sleep at night knowing she was out sleeping on the streets again, exposed to the elements and all sorts of dangers. God knows what she has been through these 2 nights. The irony of it all is that it all happened by her own choice. For reasons only known to her, she chose to stay out in the streets rather than to go home safely wit her sons.
As I write this, I am on the train, back to KL. I am in a fix. What am I supposed to feel? Sad? Angry? Worried? Frustrated? Is it possible that I am feeling all of these at the same time? It all seems so familiar in a tiring way. Somehow it fails to surprise me anymore., I no longer get shocked.
Oh ma....... what am I to do about you?
posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 12:50 pm
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