The tears within

Have you ever been exhausted yet couldn't sleep?

Have you ever tried your best yet being accused of otherwise? 

The feeling of hurt cut deep into the heart which no consolation can comfort...

God will send an angel to you

She was not liked. Born to be a tanned skin girl in a Chinese family, she felt like an outcast. Nobody liked her. She is dark, not adorable and without anyone liking her, she always kept to herself and couldn't bring herself to smile at anyone and thus the nick name of "bitter gourd face".

And soon Bitter Gourd girl grew up and one day, confused and scared while looking for the way to the hall of her new school, she bumped into a beautiful lady.

"This must be a parent," she thought. And she walked near the lady and asked, "Excuse me. Do you know where the main hall is?"

The lady gave the sweetest smile to Bitter Gourd and gave directions.

It was only later that Bitter Gourd knew that the beautiful lady was a teacher and she was the teacher for the society Bitter Gourd was chosen to be a secretary! Bitter Gourd felt like heaven rains blessings on her! When nobody believed in her, this teacher did. When nobody cared or bothered to listen to Bitter Gourd, this teacher did. Bitter Gourd knew that this teacher was a Christian. But it was until Bitter Gourd accepted Christ that she understood this was all under God's plan. The beautiful teacher was an angel sent by God to console and comfort Bitter Gourd that someone loves her when nobody else does, and there is one person who will love till eternity, and He is God.

God sends angels to us when we least expect it.

Thank you God for the love sent to Bitter Gourd through the beautiful teacher, Ms Lim.

Postnatal blues

My first postnatal was stressful. Without experience and having too many views and "advices" from people around me made me lost myself. I hurt myself and the people around me and eventually broke down, crying daily and then without good rest, I had backache for 2 years. 

This confinement, I promised myself that I won't be as stubborn as the first and that I should learn to let go. For the first week, I held on to my old self again, hurting myself for not resting well and I wondered why the tears could not stop flowing though I know crying will weaken my body. 

I caught a cold during the end of the first week and seek Chinese doctor for medication. When I thought everything would be fine, hospital called up and informed us that our baby was high in thyroid and needed another blood test immediately. We rushed to hospital that afternoon and blood was taken. The next week when we returned, the report showed my baby still have thyroid. Doctor advised another blood test to be done. It was painful to hear my baby cry out when three nurses pinned her down to take a tube of blood. 

It was tiring and my baby contracted with flu and cough. She cackled like an old man every night and woke everyone in the house. I felt helpless because there was nothing I could do to get the phlegm out of her throat. 

I informed church pastor about my baby's condition and asked for her prayer. She spread the news and asked every member to join in the prayer. That morning we went for another appointment and doctor didn't mention about her thyroid again. It's back to normal! Thank God. 

There should be nothing happier than to know everything is fine. What else do I need to hold on to and make myself so unhappy? Afterall God has delivered my daughter from harm and danger. I should cheer up. Yes, indeed I did. Things which used to provoke me before this have lesser impact on me already. I learned to let go and 🙈 no eye see or in a better way, choose to see what I want to see and ignore the weaknesses of others. 

😇

My baby

My due date for delivery was 26 February but till that date, there was no sign of contractions or whatsoever symptoms of delivery. Hence, I decided to wait for another 7 days (the maximum a doctor allows for overdue delivery). But my doc would be away on the 6 March and he suggested that I be admitted on the 3 March.

And so on the appointed date at 6am, we reached the Hospital Selayang, checked in and waited for the doctor to induce me. Around 10am, a doctor came and inserted a tablet into me and we started to wait and wait...

Nurses came and went to take my blood pressure and baby's heartbeat every hour. Hours passes by yet there was no sign of contractions. Around 4pm, my doctor came and checked. He said the baby's head was still very 'high' up there and it would be too risky for me to try the second or third inducement tablet as the pain of contractions might tear up my previous C-section wound. Those words, "You'll have to go through C-section" sliced through my heart. Tears started to well up my eyes and flowed freely once the doctor left my room. "I didn't want to go under the knife again," I cried. At that moment, I was so disappointed that I couldn't go through natural birth. 

Doc said the operation would be early next day but he came again in the evening and said that there were 8 or 9 cases the next day. So my operation was brought forward to midnight (6 hours after my last meal). 

Around midnight, the nurses came with operation cloth for me to change and fixed a catheter for me. Then I was pushed into the operation theatre. I went through the first door, signed in all the necessary consent letters and went through the second door and finally the third door. 

It was horribly cold in the theatre room... I was freezing and trembling. The only word I could mutter was "se---juk" (cold) to the nurse. A doc assistant came to me and explained that the room has to be at low temperture to prevent the breeding of virus. But I just kept muttering the same word till the anesthesiologist came and told me they'll give me a warmer later on. Then she explained the use of medication and the effect on my body. 

 

Very soon, I was asked to sit up straight. Then my back was sprayed with something that made me shiver. Then they put a piece of something on my back and I could feel my backbone was measured and probably counted and there was a poke. The anesthesiologist then said, "Now I'm going to insert medicine," and I could feel another poke into my back. Then they let me lie down and piled pieces of cloth over me and put two warmer, one on the left and another on my right to keep me warm. 

The anesthologist then said, "try to lift up your feet. Now shake them? Do they feel heavy? Now, see, this is a needle. I'm going to poke your body parts. Do tell me when it hurts." 

Then my gynae took his place and painted something red all over my belly. I couldn't bring myself to see the reflection anymore, scaring I would faint or vomit if I saw how he cut open my stomach. I looked away and prayed. 

Moments later, I could feel someone pushing hard at my stomach. The anesthologist came and explained that my gynae was trying to get the baby out of my stomach. When the pushing stopped, a loud baby cry was heard. My baby! It was a miraculous moment that I could see her arrival and hear her first cry.

I thought, "wow! So fast. Now I can go back to my room already and hug my baby." But nope, my gynae had to stitch back my stomach, right? After that only I was pushed to a waiting hall where my bleeding was monitored. 

When I reached my room, it was almost 4am already. Exhausted yet couldn't fall asleep, we waited for the nurse to bring in our baby. 

I'm into my 39 weeks of pregnancy!

If you're wondering what this is, wonder no more! It's my big belly with my little curled up princess inside. I'm well into my 39 weeks of pregnancy. 

Now I'm waiting eagerly for the contractions to start and the start of labour. 

Pray that I've a smooth delivery. 

A Depressive Chinese New Year

A week before Chinese New Year (CNY), I read about a young lady with bipolar. Her writing made me think whether it is really true that MOST of the people working in the creative field will somehow have bipolar. The thing is I don't just have this mood swing when I started to write but I have had it since I was a young girl! 

Probably dad was always not around and mom was depressive, festive seasons were the only thing I can look forward to through the year. It was during festive season that all the relatives or friends gathered around and I got to talk or listen to people talk. Otherwise life was just me, me and me alone.

Festive seasons heightened the mood but then the next minute, when everyone left the place, my mood would plummet and sink into a level that I might hide myself to cry it out. That's why I was called a cry-baby when I was a girl. And I went through this through my teenage and my adulthood. Life seems to be empty - VOID. 

Though I have married, have a son and expecting a second child now, the depression hasn't left me. After reading about the young lady with bipolar, I wondered whether I also need medication. But I never like to be controlled by medication unless it's the last resort. At the moment, I'm taking and should continue to take doses of God's words to keep me in balance. I've to admit that the pain does come again and again but it'll be a good testimony if I can go through this with the words and help of my Lord, Jesus Christ. 

Though quiet and without calls this festive season, may God Himself grant me His peace and joy! 

ABC soup with pressure cooker

I am doing a spring cleaning on my blog posts and found this: 

My mom has a pressure cooker which she wanted to hand over to me for a long long time. But I was adamant that I didn't need one because I like using gas stove to cook. Just like my mom, I don't like something to do with new technology. (Oops! Using iPad is one of my breakthrough recently). 

Though I didn't want to use it, I didn't want mom to give away such precious thing. So, it is in my house ever since November. 

As I am heavily pregnant now, my mood to cook fluctuate. So, now the pressure cooker comes in handy. 

All I have to do is blanch the pork ribs in boiling water for around 3 to 5 minutes, then throw all the necessary ingredients into the pot, add in 10 cups of water and press the button "Bone". Very soon, around 45 minutes, I have my soup on the table. 

The rate I would give is 8 for the taste. Using pressure cooker for soup is easy and fast but the soup lacks taste compared to boiling it for two hours. Anyway, this is a good alternative for those who are busy or running out of time for good soup. For better taste, you can increase the cooking time to two hours. 

Fry egg with prawn

My son likes prawns and he's good at eating them. He knows immediately whether the prawn is fresh or otherwise after a first bite. Once we went for a dinner at a restaurant and after taking a bite, he said, "I think the prawn is not fresh." I had to agree with him. The prawns did have a fishy smell. We ignored the prawns the dinner. 

For a simple meal, I've opted to fry egg with prawns. 

Ingredients

2 fresh eggs

500g shelled prawns 

1/ Heat up the wok and oil.

2/ Pour in the egg with prawns.

3/ Dish up when the egg mixture has dried up.

4/ Put drops of tomato sauce for taste.

Note: It is essential to make sure that you have a heated wok and oil. Otherwise your egg mixture will stick to the wok and you'll end up having burnt egg! You may check whether the oil is hot enough by putting a chopstick into the oil. If you see bubbling oil, then the oil is hot enough. Alternatively, you may use a non-stick pan to fry egg. 

Happy New Year

Oops! I hope I'm not too late to wish everyone a "Happy New Year".

When Christmas was around the corner, one would think of new year as well. And the last Christmas cum New Year I had a surprise from my brother who bought me iPad Air. So now updating my blog will be much easier and I hope that I can upload more beautiful pictures for you to view.

My second child is going to be due on 26 Feb. It could be earlier or later depending on God's will. Nevertheless, we're all too excited to see her. Yes, it's a girl. So I'm going to have a boy and a girl to make a happy pair.

During my confinement month, we've hired an aunty to cook for me. So be prepared to get recipes on confinement food then!

Dead friendship

Any relationship is the same. You need to put in time and effort to maintain its warmth. A warm glass of water left on the table will turn cold eventually. I heard that from a Parenting & Marriage counselor.

It rings true to me. Previously I thought that as long as I keep in touch even after a long time, things would be the same. But it turned out otherwise.

I've always longed to meet up or keep in touch with one of my old time buddy - a 20 years buddy. I thought that distance n time didn't matter. We can talk when we were free. There's no need to meet up often. But I was wrong. Along the way, she has found other good buddy to share her ups n downs, thus eliminating me from her life altogether.

Probably I treated her like my sibling. We don't have to meet often but we understand each other. I thought it'll work out but it didn't. Dead friendship it is now - no need of concern, care or contact. Though I miss her, she treated me like an invalid. It's like having a knife stabbed into my heart, how I longed to tell her I treated her as my best buddy. But I guess she cared no more.

Probably it's time to let go...

Overcoming the fear

When I saw my son cried in his school, I cried with him. I understood the fear he was facing. When I left him, he screamed and kicked with all his might. He didn't want to stay in the school. All he wanted was to stay in the house, his comfort zone, without any disturbance and play with his toys all day long. But life has different phases. As he grows older and older, he needs to face different things and the first challenge he needs to face is SCHOOL. 

I don't remember myself crying when I was sent to the school. I wasn't afraid. I liked school. Probably because I have an older brother who showed me how much he enjoyed going to school and having plenty of friends, it made me feel it would be an enjoyable experience for me too. 

Again, when I pondered at my son's wet face, I remembered myself struggling on the floor, trying to snatch my dad's medication from my mom. I was down and under and was hoping to take my life away due to fear. Of what? The people around me. 

My first job was a nightmare. I joined a local bank and was pushed around by the seniors into doing different tasks and was called names and bullied verbally every day in front of waiting customers. Tears ran down my face yet they did not stop the act of bullying. In fact, the tears proved that they were right, I was a loser and they had won the battle of torturing a new staff. The turnover in the bank was high. No new employee can withstand the bully more than 6 months. The manager wasn't doing anything. He couldn't because he was being boycotted as well. 

Dad had been encouraging. He said nothing should stop me from working in the bank because it pays well with many benefits. But I was adamant. I couldn't sleep. I was like a waking vampire, wandering in the bank during office hours and at night, couldn't sleep but kept thinking what was going to happen the next day and what their tricks would be. Life was meaningless. 

When I decided to take my life away, Dad allowed me to hand in my resignation. I was glad that I could finally withdraw myself from the torture. 

Now thinking back, I wondered whether things would be different if I were a Christian then...Would I survive the torture and bullying? I really wanted to know for I do not want to be a loser for life. I don't want to bring this fear, the same fear of facing challenges/ torture to the next generation. Because I gave up, I have nothing to share with my son. I could not share the triumph I didn't experience. I was a dodger, but I don't want my son to be like me. 

School Phobia

First day: he ate 3/4 of the bread
Second day: he ate 1/2 of the bread
Third day: he ate 3 bites and refused to eat anymore

My son, Isaac has just changed to a new school and he feared the new teacher, especially a man teacher that reprimanded him for crying. Isaac's eating habit changed. He used to finish a piece of bread for breakfast but not anymore. The fear of going to school has caused him to lose his appetite and what's more, he has turned from a happy child to a worried one. 

Yesterday, I confronted the male teacher that Isaac mentioned. Trying to be friendly, I said, "Teacher, Isaac is scared of you." The teacher looked at Isaac and smiled. Another teacher who looked on said, "There's no need to be scared. We all love you, Isaac." 

I continued, "Isaac said you scolded him." The teacher looked away, embarrassed. Then, I smiled and took Isaac away. When I went to take Isaac home from school, he told me, "Today the man teacher didn't scold me." I was happy that it worked. Isaac also told me he likes his new teacher, "the thin thin one". I was happy for him that he finally found someone he could count on and I hope things would improve. 

Nevertheless, this child of mine always "brings past to the future, and the future to the present." He couldn't enjoy playing with his toys anymore. Whenever he thinks of his school, he would run to me and says, "I don't want to go to school. I am scared," and pats his chests to show me his fear. When I looked into his eyes, I saw myself. He is so much like me, a worrier. He knew that today everything went fine, but tomorrow might be the repeat of what happened yesterday. Then he worries today what will happen tomorrow. 

Today, I gave him some sweets and told him, "I have to go back and cook for lunch. Otherwise, you have to stay longer in school to have lunch in the school since I don't manage to cook." He understood and let me go. 

God, please take away Isaac's fear and give him peace and joy. Let him befriend his friends and let him learn from his teachers. God provides peace. I trust in You, my Saviour. 

Here I am, 7 months pregnant!

Hello everyone there. I am back - with a bigger stomach to get my tiny Gabriel in it. 

Back in December 2012, I had wanted a baby very much. After all, Isaac was very lonely and kept telling me that his school mates have siblings while he didn't. So, we prayed every night, asking God to give us a baby which we can name her "Gabriel". When I read the book of Matthew in the Bible, I liked the name "Gabriel" instantly. In Chinese, Gabriel is named as "the angel that brings good news." We wanted another angel in the family, especially one who brings good news to us. 

Isaac was serious. He prayed for me and kept asking impatiently when would God grant us our wish. I said, we have to wait.

On  my side, I did UNUSUAL thing. I don't usually go to the dentist but I did to check on my teeth and made sure I don't have any cavities. I went to the gynae to do my pap smear and breasts check. I went to our family doctor to have my blood tested. And when everything was done and the results were out, I was pregnant with Gabriel. 

Everyone in the family was elated. I was at the moment when I saw double lines on my pregnancy strip. But things were not always smooth sailing. The coming week, I started to have serious morning sickness. Isaac had to stop schooling because I couldn't get up from bed and drive him to school. The house was turned into a rubbish dump, with everything here and there. Floor and things were dusty. I was extremely down. I didn't take bath, didn't comb my hair and hoped that I don't have to eat either. 

Fast forward six months later, here I am! Thank God, big and healthy I am. Moms have to go through morning sickness and labour pain to have "the little bundle of joy" later on. 

Bravo Mommies out there! Let us brave ourselves to face the challenge. 

How to live peacefully and happily?

A few days ago, a friend replied my message saying, "Don't pressure yourself by speculating what others think of yourself."

Yea, I like that word "speculating". He knew me so well. I just can't stop thinking of how others think of me and for the past 32 years, I've been living miserably because when someone did not smile at me or did not reply my SMS, I'll "speculate" whether a wrong had been done and what I should be doing next. Sometimes I even sacrificed my sleeping time to think of it which caused me sleepless nights and insomnia.

I have tough time with myself. This friend who advised me has known me for 14 years. Flashing back 14 years ago, we studied in the same school for Form 6. I had hated him for he gave me the impression of a proud guy who thought he knew best and for some time I refused to talk to him though we were committee members in the same society. It was after some time that I asked him and he explained. I was astonished at how he could ignore what others think of him. He said it's of no use spending time thinking of what others think of ourselves. If they are not satisfied with us, they'll come to talk to us. Otherwise, stop wasting time doing that. 

It's so enlightening! I've put myself in a prison for so long and I really deserve a knock on my head. For the past weeks, I've also "speculated" on how a friend who used to talk to me often did not even want to talk to me. It made me so sad. I started to think what made her refused to talk to me and was it something I said in our previous conversations. Whatever it is, if you're not satisfied with me or what I do, come to me and talk about it. I want to stop "speculating" what you may think of me!

Thanks Ching Leong for your message. You help me grow. 

I miss you, Dad!

When I was a child and as far as I could remember, I loved spending time in family outing. Wherever Dad and Mom went, I tagged along. The outing I liked most was trips to Port Dickson or Morib beach or Mimaland Water Theme Park. Dad knew how to swim but I did not. So, it was always secured to stay near him. Every Saturday, Dad would drop us off at the library before he went to work. Then, he would pick us up at 4pm and took us to A&W for ice-cream waffle. Those were the best days in my life. Then, Grandma passed away and Dad had to become a real Dad and look for a better job to be the sole bread winner (Previously he depended his expenses on Grandma). Since then, I hardly see Dad. When he was back, we were already asleep. When we woke up, he had already gone to work. Days, months, years passed and we were all grown up. Dad realised he missed a lot when I entered Form 6. He started to find time to talk to me which I disgusted most. I did not like being treated like a little girl anymore. Yea, he treated me like an eight-year old! "Daught, have you eaten? Is the food delicious? Blah, blah, blah.." He asked me tonnes of questions and at that time, I felt either of us was an idiot to have ask or answer those questions. And I went to the counsellor, a great Christian teacher and she gave me invaluable advices. I changed. During varsity years, though being far away from home, I felt near because Dad called me almost every day. He gave me support mentally and when I graduated from the university, he drove me around for interviews. 

He knew I have a dream to become a famous author. When my first batch of books was published, he distributed the sample copies to relatives and friends. I was embarrassed by his action but was deeply touched for he was the only one who would praise me. Mom was too embarrassed to even mention about my books. (Yea, can't blame her. I think my stories suck too!) There was no one in my life who has praised me except Dad. Though he fell ill in 2007, we thought he would last longer because Doc did not say about death possibility. He was doing well. Even when he was admitted into the hospital for diarrhoea, doctor said he was recovering fast and could be discharged the following day. But the next day while I was rushing through my Master degree assignment, brother called to inform that Dad was vomiting blood and that was when I trembled and tears poured out uncontrollably because I knew he would not be surviving. Indeed, he died the next morning. I lost all hope in continuing my Master's. I had four exams to take, two presentations and two assignments due in one month time. I collapsed and cried so hard because I lost my one and only supporter, one who believed that I can achieve my dream though everyone around think I would fail. I had lost my best buddy who gave time to hear about my lamentations and one who without fail repeated his life's motto: "Never a loser until you quit!" to me. I was lost. 

Brother told me, if I were to let Dad rest in peace, that was the time and I should hold my head high and finished off everything I should. I did and that semester I scored 2 As and 2 Bs. 

Fast forward 5 years, relatives said I should be going back to my hometown often to "pay respect" and put forth "food" for Dad. They considered me unfilial for not doing so. I felt I've done my part. So long I respected him while he was alive, that was the most crucial part of all. Come to think about it, where were they when Dad needed encouragement most? I miss him not only on the Qing Ming day but almost every day because I know what love really means...

What is wrong with good?

I have always been good. I've always thought that "good" is enough. But there is a problem with it.

Recently, I heard a recorded talk on the Jews education. It is a tremendous findings to me. Why Jews are so successful in the world? Though their population is little, they survive through the years and yet, become the most successful people in the whole world. Say for example, 7 out of 8 movie companies are owned by the Jews. Why the Swiss watches are known for the quality? Because the Jews did not settle for good. They settle for the BEST. Whatever they do, they strive to be the best so that the glory may be given to the Lord.

Good is not enough. I thought being in the first class was enough. I should opt to be the first among the best, shouldn't I? I thought scoring above 3.0 CGPA was good enough. But isn't 4.0 CGPA is far better and I would have gained a scholarship to overseas for my Master degree!

Life could be better if I had strive for the best instead of being just good.

Where to find fairness?

Malaysians are hit by the recent blow of General Election 13 (GE13). There are numerous news about fraudulent happened during the whole voting as well as during the counting of votes session. After those 5 years of campaigning and when most of the people thought that "Ini kalilah" (This is the time) to change the government for a better future, Malaysians are hit by the blow that the dream could not be realised!

This Monday people everywhere were seen wearing black to show their dissatisfaction towards the result. Today, a rally is held (508) in Kelana Jaya to voice out the dissatisfaction in a calm manner. What do the people want? People want fairness. People want everyone to be treated equally. 

Can we? 

I guess only God knows and only with God can we have the word "fair" because He is the only one who is just and righteous. 

May God bless our country. Peace, peace, peace. 

P/S: We are all human with flesh and blood. We cry, we bleed, we hurt. Please don't alienate us or brand us according to our colour, race or religion. We are one - HUMAN! 

Kane and Abel

I've just finished reading Jeffrey Archer's Kane and Abel, a 545 pages book from cover to cover. Frankly, it was my first time to read Archer's book and also first time to be able to finish such long book within 3 days with my son around. 

The book, being one of the bestsellers of Archer's and also one of the best liked book by Archer himself has made its imprint into my heart for the past few days. Archer's skill in weaving the plots and characters in the story made you want to bury your head in the book and do nothing else. And so was the guilt of letting my son watch Toy Story 2 while I finished the last chapters of the book this morning. 

From the start of the story, you would be captured by how Archer carved out the first character in the story, Wladek or later known as Abel. Then you would also fall in love with William, described as tall and handsome and many more...

There are a few that I don't quite like about the story. First, should there be so many adultery or involvement of sex in the story? The plots themselves are sufficient to entice one to read on without having so many of the "seductive" ones. Another dislike was on how Archer kills the characters in the story. You just could not fall in love with the characters because soon it would be killed. That's how sad the story was. I have to admit I cried more than three times reading the story. It hurt me to know that Leon has to die due to his protective action of shielding Wladek from the butt of a rifle; Florentyna has to die after being raped by 16 Russian soldiers, William's father death in Titanic, and so on...The story is filled with bloodshed and deaths. 

The last part of the story, which I wanted it to be a happy ending turned out to be sad - William died before he managed to see his daughter-in-law and grandchildren for the first time! I was devastated. How could Archer end the story like that? I mean, isn't the feud between William and Abel long enough to make them kindle and be friends before one of them die? 

And the father-daughter relationship between Abel and Florentyna made me mesmerised those moments I shared with  my late Dad. Dad was so much like the aged Abel, just that he was not as shrewd. But how I wish that the story would end as in Abel knew that William was his benefactor and that should kindle the rivals between both of them. 

Overall, the story made me cry and made me built walls around myself and it would be for days before I could rejoin the real world again for the general election. It is painful to live in a self-made world. I guess this is what people called, "detachment anxiety" from the world we have created through reading a story, just like how Harry Porter had also deeply injected into my heart. Oh, how could these people write into others' hearts? I should learn...

TITLE      : KANE AND ABEL
AUTHOR : JEFFREY ARCHER

The pain from severed friendship

How could I ignore it? But why do I care so much about whether she remembers me? Am I too sentimental to remember what happened some 20 years ago, those happy moments where we sat side by side, had arguments and made up? Am I too sentimental to remember only the good times we spent till we separated when I joined the arts stream while she joined the science? Though separated, we kept in touch and probably I was too occupied with myself, being bullied in my class and sought help than helping her that I've lost her since then! 

Most of us want friends to be with us when were down and under. When I joined arts stream, I faced extreme pressure from my counterparts. I did not know what went wrong, why, when, etc...All I knew was, they teamed up against me and stopped talking to me. I sought help from my friends from the science stream. I had no other friends. I was lonely and cried often. Though I obtained the best student in the arts stream, I had no sincere friends. I guessed it was then that she also faced pressure and she slipped away, getting to know other 'best friends' to accompany her. I did felt jealous at that point but came to realise that we need people during the worst time. It makes sense! 

We went to different university but we met up during holidays and had holidays job together. I still mesmerised those times when I was allowed to go to her house and slept on her bed. People say that a best friend should have slept with us, cried with us, laughed with us,...I thought we did, or I did. And that was the only reason I chose her to be my bride's maid and not my other church member! I cried so easily and poured out my heart to her and probably she was listening to me so intensely that she forgot about telling her problems to me and I lost her. 

OH, why do I care so much? I mean, with Facebook, it's difficult not to see people's progress, what they do, where they are and how they feel. Everything is in black and white and it is clear that I'm totally forgotten! Ok. It's my PMS again. I gotta hang up now before I get dizzy with too many things in my head again...The severed friendship hurts because I knew I've lost her as a friend...Who cares now accept that I felt the difference!

Losing the will to live

Two days ago my friend told me that her uncle had passed on. I asked whether it was the uncle on the wheelchair. She nodded.

He was an invalid for more than 30 years. Being on a wheelchair, he needed help wherever he went. According to my friend, he was admitted to the hospital two weeks ago and the doctor had to feed him through a tube. Reluctant to survive on tube, he pulled it out even knowing that that would cost him his life. I guessed, he must have thought, "What's the use of living on when I'm on a tube?" The burden on the family must have been unbearable. 

He had two sons, one adopted and another son from his own wife. However, it was believed that the son was not his but from his wife's affair. Nevertheless, he treated the children like his own. Knowing that he was not a 'man' himself, he allowed his wife to have an affair and what's more, he had to raise a son who was from another man. 

This man must had had gone through much pain and hurt to accept all these and losing the will to live was nothing than snuffing out a flickering fire. That's the end...

If only he knows that God loves him...