Never ask me to paint your walls. Neither is it a good idea to hire me as your decorator.
I am pretending I am a batik artist. :)
Happy Birthday, Mom!
You are greatly missed. I love you.
Today is my most beloved Mother-in-law's birthday anniversary. She would have been 90 years old. We all miss her. She was the best mother-in-law. My children loved her then and love her now. Before my husband and I even talked about getting married, I secretly wished he would marry me because I wanted Mom and Dad to be my in-laws and be a part of their family. Mom, thinking of you still gives me a lump in my throat and makes me cry because I love you so much and miss you terribly. M and Em miss you so much. Thank you for raising your son to be a fine man. He has your kindness and goodwill. He is as smart, gentle, loving, kind and protective. His love does not falter. He is as steadfast and loyal and never leaves even in the stormiest of life's weathers. He is my refuge. Thank you Mom.
Today is Saturday. I love my weekends. I am at home, my favorite place. Our home's altar is lit. This week has been emotionally charged. Two days ago I celebrated my dearest eldest sister's birthday. The same day was my beloved Father's death anniversary. Tomorrow is my beloved sister Leah's first year death anniversary. I miss all of them. I live halfway around the globe from my eldest sister. I am happy she celebrated a birthday with a big fat 0. I thank her for being our anchor. Her love truly binds. Her kind and gentle voice soothes my frazzled nerves any time. I idolized her since I was a little girl. When I called her on her birthday, she was a bit in a hurry because she had to meet some graduate students. At 70, she still remains active in her academic field. She retired from her primary professorial chair years ago but is still a part time professor at several universities; writes books and runs a special school. Throughout our sister Leah's illness, she and our youngest sister who is a full time physician-epidemiologist were the primary caretakers. Not once did they ever complain. I once talked to my eldest sister alone and asked her how she felt about being burdened for caring for our sister. She corrected me and in an elder sister manner, rather admonished me for using the word burden. She never considered it a burden but an honor and told me she will do it all over again for any of us. I wept.
I worry too much. I stress myself to the point of migraine. I forget often. I forget. I forget to learn from my sisters whose collective faith is abiding and strong. I forget to follow their example. I forget to pray, never even think of leaving or running away and to keep on loving. I forget. I forget sometimes that I belong to this extraordinary family and married to a wonderful man. This I know, I am blessed and lucky, even if my awful attitude does not make me deserving sometimes. I try.