Emotional-diarrhea

Loss lots of loss 

 Ma thinks of you 1 and half. Forever came too soon🤍

 

  What is home?  Home is a feeling of safety in that which seems familiar.  Home is a space where there is no need for pretence or show, because home accepts you as you are.  Home is a manifestation of comfort, that emerges in both the animate and inanimate.  From the chocolate brown sofa that sunk you as you sat into its snug embrace,  Or the Myna perched on the hanging planter by your bedroom window sill, intent to wake you up with its incessant cooing on a Saturday morning.  It's the smell of ginger milk tea being poured into your mother's wedding china, as you chatted on the steps of the backdoor.  Perhaps it's your grandfather's oversized bubble textured rubber Batas - the ones' you used to wear when you played run-and-catchers in the garden.  It could be how the edge of your father's bed was always the best place to watch Tamil movies on school night.  Or maybe it's the smell of fresh grass watered by missing Uncle Hello on a monso...

I remember as a child being given a doll. I can't remember her name but a vivid picture of her still remains in memory. She was a hand-me-down doll, about 50 centimetres tall, with forever gaping blue eyes and dead-straight brown hair. I remember cradling her, bathing her, changing her. I remember using my mother's shawl to make a cot. With its edges strung across the door handle I'd rock her to and fro off to sleep like she was my baby. She was the first of many dolls I owned throughout my childhood. The first of many baby dolls that planted the seed of desiring motherhood in my heart. I have always wanted to be a mother. My mother was and still is my role model in so many ways - when I think of being mother. When I think of motherhood I see a safe haven, I see trust, unconditional love, sacrifice, loyalty, I think of undying perseverance. I see a full time gig I'd take in a heartbeat every time.  I guess that's why I felt completely and utterly barren w...

I'm afraid and I'm restless. B is going to have surgery next week. I'm so scared for him. I'm praying for him to recover well inshaAllah. I feel for him so much - he's been through so much in his childhood, as a young adult and even now. There's a sense of such helpless now because as his child I want to help me so badly, but I can't really do anything. I want to make him so proud of me. I want to look after him myself. I'm so desperate to show him he has me with him in a meaningful way. Your parents spend so much time looking after you, you expect them to care for you. At a point in time the roles reverse and you should return the favour. I want to return the favour. And I need him to be around. I desperately need him around.

Darling miracle of mine, Are you nestled safe on level nine?   I knew there was a storm brewing When 1 became 2  call it instinct, She will always know   Do you resemble the North face  where rivers amass with no seas? Or do you take after the pearl  Surrounded by aquamarine Baby I will never know  Call me ill-fated surely,  To never hold you close  or get lost in your smile  But darling  Please forgive me,  Choices I had none