Blood Runs Thick

The morning of the surgery, I felt absolutely lonely and saddened. The weight of the world was too much for me to bear. Ingmar did not know this, not that I cared to tell. I could not tell mom, she will be disappointed. She didn't raise a daughter to make all the wrong choices.

I couldn't take it anymore. Lying on the hospital bed, I said a prayer, to whichever god who cared to listen... "I'm quite done with life. If this is what life has to offer, no thanks, just take me home. Let my lights flick off forever with my baby's during the surgery."

Maya! I thought of my best friend. I sent her a text just in time before I was wheeled into the operating theatre.

"Maya. I've made some mistakes. Feeling very :~~(( right now. About to undergo surgery at Hosp KG. Bye. I love you."

I counted 10, 9, 8 backwards and everything went black...

I tried to open my eyes. If it was still black, I had passed on with my baby.

The heavy eyelids responded as warm yellow lights began to pour into my vision. Okay... I'm still alive. My wish were not granted. Not that easy.

I felt sore from my waist down and a gaping emptiness in my whole being. Little baby was no more. My vision blurred up again not because of the pain from the surgery, but the excruciating pain I felt in my heart.

Somebody squeezed my hands, left and right.

To my left, I saw Maya, which led me to cry even more. She said, "Shhhh.... it's alright."

On my right, I saw mom.

"Some boiled potatoes should be good for recuperation," mom said with a smile.

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Not all storms meant to disrupt your life, some came to clear a path.

Cliff made it so much easier for me. We were still together.

He accepted me just as I was, and I was not going to take that acceptance for granted. He stayed. He said "I won't walk away because of your past, I stayed because of who you are today." Then he added light-heartedly "Well, I might leave, depends what you become in the future."

"I'm not perfect anymore, Cliff. Do you understand that? There are scars on my body and in my soul."

Unlike Ingmar, talking with Cliff was comforting as it was entertaining. His gentleness and his use of encouraging words made me want to become a better person. He had proven to me that he wasn't the judgmental type. There was mutual love and respect, and fun between the two of us.

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One weekend, mom was in town to visit me.

I told Maya about it. She texted me 'Ola gf. Why dont u2 join me for church this weekend? I'm on duty. After church, jom take aunty 4dimsum.'

Sounded like a pretty good idea.

Mom likes church. And I do too, although I am not entirely comfortable in it. I look within me, there were much flaws and sins and past hurts and... what business do I have in such a place?

Maya once said, "It is the sick that needed a doctor. It is the broken that needed a saviour. You are always welcomed here."

Mom is a believer. I think I am too, I'm not sure. Anyway if I suggest going to church, she would be pleased with me and will definitely agree to it!

Mom sat beside me, as Maya's voice and the harmonious choir filled the hall with sounds of peaceful worship. Transcendence. And it dawned on me, how wonderful it was to have mom coming to church with me today. How precious she was to me but I must have forgotten. She can absolutely take care of herself, but who is showing her extra care or make her feel special for once?

When Maya was on stage, beautiful as she was, the attention was never on her. With every chord she strummed and every words that she sang, she led people to focus on the loving One above.

I was touched and tears were pooling. Mom noticed that I was wiping away tears and she reached for my hand, smiled at me.

She has very warm and comforting hands.

I am a typical Asian. I love my mom and I suppose she knew it. Suppose some words unspoken won't make a lot of difference?

Anyhow I plucked up my courage, and told mom "Mon mere, Je t'aime. Mom, i love you. " for the first time after a very long time.

With one hand she held mine firmly, and I noticed she wiped her eyes with the other.

Could it still really be that simple?

Could romantic love and platonic love and parental love all be different facets of the same diamond- brilliant, no matter which face is turned up to the sun?