The Machines are Moving

Last night at old place! Tomorrow night we'll be sleeping in a new house!

I think the correct order of things would've been

1. get married
2. get car
3. get mortgage
4. get baby

But no, little ms contrary had to do it my own way:

1. get baby
2. get married
3. get mortgage
4. [still can't drive].

But it's been a helluva year.

The Son's starting on solids now

A distinct lack of humour

Yep, the funeral was tough. I had a total of 8 plane rides over the past 2 weeks going to and from Sibu, got to see all my relatives (including those whom I didn't want to see) and had to make nice with everyone even when I didn't feel very nice myself.

It was hard to reconcile the body on a metal slab with the person I remember, or rather the several people I remember him to be.

Growing up, I thought my dad hung the moon. We saw him two months out of a year, and it was wonderful.

He walked into the room just after my mom told me about his constant infidelity and I saw his face change into the stranger we have now come to know so well.

In my early teens we fought constantly on the telephone since I was the one chasing him for maintenance payments. Then after a horribly bitter fight, we didn't speak for about 10 years during which I signed all his greeting cards under duress.

When I saw him again, I was almost through law school and he was through making another family. He told me not to say anything mean to his other children. I didn't.

When I saw him again, he had cancer and I was at the airport picking him up under duress. He started to cry when he saw me, and I had to have a cigarette immediately.

We shared the cigarette in the cab. He got his blood transfusion and went home. But not before ratting me out to my mother about the smoking.

The last time he came back here, he stayed for 6 months for chemotherapy, and saw his grandson born. He managed to avoid holding my son until weeks before he left. I surprised myself by being almost indifferent.

After all, I realised before he did that he would not get to hold another grandchild in his lifetime. I also realised that in his haste to discard us and start a new family, he had missed seeing us three grow up. Now he would not live to see the other two grow up.

Now that I have a son, I know that is punishment enough. The sum of my grievances against him couldn't add up to this.

Stunned and Stoned

Funeral was too much information. Can't digest it, don't know what to say about it, don't have any views except that I don't want to die like that.

It's over

No man was ever born
but he must suffer.
He buries his children and gets others in their place;
then dies himself.
And yet men bear it hard,
that only give dust to dust!

Sanity Check

In these crazy crazy times, my son keeps me sane.

I'll conveniently ignore the fact that he also contributes significantly to my insanity.

Back!

Touched down, like, 2 hours ago and sped home to The Son and The Husband.

Missed them like CRAZY.

Dad did not pass away during the four days allotted for the trip.

But during the last four days, I managed to discover how insane my family history really is.

Nothing like a trip back to a small town to discover ALL of your roots.