Fearing the Worst
"Hann, I have no more money already." she said to me. "Hann.... are you OK?....... I........ tell your father....... make sure jynn goes to church......I.....I........." she mumbles on and off.
From the phone number, I know she's not even in my home town anymore.... somewhere in Melaka now.
What do you do when you hear that from 500 miles away? What is a son suppose to do when he hears his mother is absolutely penniless and wondering the streets. I am starting to see that this feeling of guilt and helplessness is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.
Sometimes I even amaze myself how I can just go on with my life as if everything in the world is just fine for me. I would get a disturbing call from my mother. i would know she isnt well. I would move away and try to talk to her the few seconds that she is on the line... then the line gets cut off... and I sit down at my chair again and resume whatever I was doing. I feel disturbed and worried throughout the day.. but beyond worrying and fretting, I do nothing.
On a deeper level, I wonder if I should be acting in a different way. Isnt this the sort of thing that makes you do something drastic? What would a normal son's reaction be in a situation like this? I wonder why I am not marching into my bosses office and demand an emergency leave and immediately drive 300miles to go make sure my mother is OK. The more I wonder, the more I realise I do not have the answer, or perhaps I already do know the answer but am not ready to acknowledge it; that I am taking the easy way out convincing myself that whatever I do will be futile and no use.
When I realised that she stopped sticking in the same place anymore, I got worried. My mother is on the verge of becoming a missing person. Every single time she calls, I will ask her where she is.. But she never feels it is important to answer me. Gone are the days when she would at least stick in one place. She is now truly a wanderer... refusing to settle down in one place.
Amazingly, when I am alone in bed at night, I still think of her. My heart aches at the thought of her. I think back on that night she came to stay in my place, how she was so tired of exhaustion she just slept right there on the floor, how I just sat there beside her, thinking what a useless son I have become, touching her rough and worn out skin. I wished with all my heart that all these things did not need to happen... I still do.
I have not lost my mother totally yet.. But the feeling in my heart is that I am at the verge of it. How long will she continue like this? How long before she disappears completely? The misery of that day looms at the back of my mind every time I speak to her. When she calls, just like she did today, I try my best to really listen to her voice. There really is no sense in the things she is trying to tell me, but never the less, I listen intently... because I do not want to forget her voice. I am terrified that one day, when my mother long gone, I will forget her voice. Trust me when I say, there will never be another voice, smell, feel or touch more special to you than that of your mother. I know there will never be any person ever that will call my name the way my mother does, or hold my hand the way she does.
I dread the day I wake up in the morning having to face the fact that I have no one to call "ma" anymore, never see her, hear her voice, hold her hand or hug her. Every time she calls, deep in my heart, I pray that it is not the last.
posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 10:25 am
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