In her shoes

I lost the most important person in my life this year. The events leading up to her more-or-less-expected, but much-too-soon demise, were stressful, heart-wrenching and at best true tests to my faith. I have been reminded by families and friends that at least we were given due 'warning' and opportunities to spend time with her during her last days.

So I left my job and my husband in Auckland to be with my mother. Doctors predicted 3 to 6 months for her, but God gave us 6 weeks. During that 6 weeks, I learned a second set of skills - nursing care. I learned how to turn a bedridden patient, be aware of signs of (even the slightest) pain, lift a weak person up from bed and onto a wheelchair, handle and drive a hospital bed, dress wounds, sponge, and do this all without showing signs of despair. Without sounding too boastful, my cousin once commented how strong I was to do the things I do and still put a smile on my face for Mak's visitors. What people don't know is how difficult it was to face the reality, and how stressful it was to resist external pressures that I know are all done with good intentions for what is best for us. My family has been amazing in supporting us, emotionally, physically and financially, Alhamdulillah.

What I realised having just had a laparotomy surgery recently, is how uncomfortable it is to lie on a bed for a long time, how restless it is to be dependent on others on things we take for granted such as going to the toilet, having showers or simply getting up from bed, how uneasy it is to have to sit or lie down in uncomfortable positions etc. I whinged to my husband about the pain, the uneasiness, the fact that I couldn't do my routines, how I can't sit down and do my work at the desk, and I can't get out of the house for a walkabout. And, having experienced all this, I realised that arwah Mak, not once complained about pain, whined about her uneasiness, or grumbled about having forced to sit or lie down in a certain position. She didn't complain about how doctors poked her fragile hands and neck (her hand was so bloated from the drip line that doctors had to resort to put the drip line at her neck), how nurses treated her, how we forced her to eat, or to lie on her side because she had been on her back far too long, how we made her turn on her side, and her face cringed when we wanted to clean her, how we forced her to get up from bed and onto the wheelchair for some fresh air outside. She must be pretty annoyed with us asking her what she wants to eat almost every hour, yet she just said she wasn't hungry in gentle manners. So what right did I have to whine and whinge? Now that I have been in her shoes, for something not even remotely close to what she was diagnosed with, and not even near to what she had to go through, NONE AT ALL.

Not one minute goes by that I don't think about her. Al-Fatihah to Mak. I miss you.

P/S: Hope you guys didn't need a tissue :)

Cheek-bumped!

This entry could well be borderline controversial. It could be just me picking on a minute issue, but let's let them all OUT! :)

I have been raised to shake the hands of visitors to our home or those whose homes we visit, be it adults or children. I should extend both of my hands and offer firm grip of their hands, and then bring my hands to the heart. And if it involves an elderly person, the shaking hands gesture is extended to also include lowering my head to our firm grip and kissing the hands of the elderly persons (while both our hands are still in the firm grasp), which I conclude, is to show greater respect to the elderly.

I was perplexed when I came here and was greeted with not one but three alternate "cheek-bumps." I don't remember who was my first (ERK!), but I have been sucked nurtured into this whole realm of uncomfortable gesture, that now seems to be an acquired behavior or norm of the people from Malaysia who stay/study here.

As far as I can remember, shaking hands are the norms of greetings among friends, and relatives. I am used to hugs and kisses on the cheek from family members, in addition to shaking hands. Among my Kiwi family members, I am always kissed on the right cheek and hugged. Or if I am greeting the elderly, I am the one giving the elderly person a kiss on his/her right cheek, and hug him/her.

Never have I been cheek-bumped. Until I arrived here. And on my recent trip back home, although it is not as rampant, it is being exercised by a selected group of acquaintance and relatives. The gesture practiced by the Malays here is that you start with shaking hands, and then extend your RIGHT cheek first to bump on the other person's right cheek, then move on to the left cheek-bump, and end it with another right cheek-bump. Some keep the hands gripped, some don't. And the rule of law is that you only do it among the ladies. I haven't seen Malay men doing cheek-bumps, though I don't know why we discriminate the gesture to be done just between the ladies.

The cheek-bumps gesture, or "air kiss" allows one to ignore meeting the other person in the eye. Instead of kissing each other, the air kiss is just that - kissing air. Anecdotal evidence indicate that the gesture is made famous by celebrities, who want to appear to be on good terms, when they can barely stand each other. And Hollywood celebrities take this gesture two steps further, by simply offering their cheeks and not bumping cheeks with the other person, and making the sound of 'muah' while distantly making the cheekbump. Being a self-confessed local celebrity myself, I have a recent experience of being given not one, but 2 Hollywood air kisses, or in my judgmental dictionary, a less than sincere fake effort of socializing. Just when I thought I have equipped myself with all the strategies and barriers so that I can tolerate the cheek-bumps with people who are way outside my personal bubble during Eid, I was met with not one but TWO genuine Hollywood air kisses that dwarf those shared between the real housewives of Beverly Hills. And that was done after we wished each other Selamat Hari Raya and Maaf zahir batin.

If I don't like the person(s), I will minimize contact and communication with him or her. And that includes avoiding the person(s) whenever I can. And that saves me from the stress of bumping cheeks with the people I can't stand. But in the spirit of Eid, at least I made an effort to greet and meet everybody who are there at the venue (and risked getting cheek-bumps with people I can't stand), rather than socialize with only the group of ladies people, whom I suspect, you already talk to on a day-to-day basis. What is then the point of coming to the event? Just continue commenting on each other's facebook wall if you don't even bother to make an effort to talk to other guests. And just because you have met me once, doesn't mean we can now be Facebook friends.

Please, please rescue me from your cheek-bumps if we can't stand each other. Okay drama queen signing out.