my baby

baby is 7 months now. time really flies!


feels like only yesterday i held him for the first time.


being a mommy has made me a totally different person.


it is no longer about me, but all about him, his needs, his wants, his likes, his dislikes--like i said, it`s all about him :)

my prince

he is a total joy to be around, and i love him so, so much!

what every mommy needs..

50 hours a day.

at least.

my love, my life, my little prince

feeling nauseatingly happy!

Me:

Hubby and I:

Our baby [not really a picture of the miracle inside of me, but i figured that they all will look the same at this stage ;-)]:

retreat..

my grandpa, the macho man

I have two scars on my knees. One on each.
The one on the left is a tear shaped scar. I got it when I was five. And this is how…

When I was very much younger, I used to stay with my grandparents. My dad was in the air force, so he used to move quite a bit. My mom was still in her teacher’s training period, so it was decided that it was best for me and mom to stay with my grandparents till my mom finished her training period.

My grandparents spoilt me rotten. Even though they had many grandchildren, I was their favorite. Maybe because I was the cutest :p

Since I spent most of my days with my grandparents, I was very close to them. When I was 5, I was enrolled in a kindergarten which was about 10 minutes away from my grandparent’s home. And it was my grandpa who sent me there every morning.

He owned a bicycle. That was his mode of transportation. My grandparents were happily retired and comfortably settled and had everything in their neighborhood and did not need to travel far. So I guess a bicycle was good enough to get him around, unless both of them needed to go someplace in town.

So every morning, my grandpa cycled me to the kindergarten. He liked to take a route which he called “the shortcut”. I can only vaguely recall the route leading to the place, but I know that we needed to pass a huge field in order to get to the other neighborhood where the kindergarten was. And there was a big drain between the field and the road that we had to cross using a narrow plank. When I say narrow, I mean narrow. Narrow and unstable that only one adult should walk or cycle across it at any one time.

Everyday, when we reached the “crossing”, he will get down from the bicycle, and tell me to walk across it first. Then he will cycle across it and I will get on back on the bicycle.

We did that every morning.
Except on that morning.

It was a day where anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Yeah, ever had one of those?

First, we were late leaving the house. Then it started to drizzle. But since we were already running late, my grandpa told me we will not be returning home to get an umbrella. He cycled faster.

When we were nearing “the crossing”, he told me that he plans to cycle across the bridge (the narrow plank actually) to save time. He wanted to ‘go for it’. And I was ordered to hold on tight to him. Which I did. For good measure, I closed my eyes.

The next thing I know, I was inside the drain. My grandpa too. And the bicycle too, of course. It started raining harder. I had bruises on my elbow and knees. The cut on my left knee was bleeding. I was getting drenched. I was 5. So I started to cry. Or howl. Or scream. Or maybe I did everything all at once.

My grandpa’s futile attempts to calm me did not work. He got me back on the bicycle and started cycling home. I was crying for my grandma all the way home.

Later, my grandma told me she heard me screaming for her from miles away. I’m not sure how true that is. I was only 5. How loud could I have been?

Did I mention I was my grandma`s weak spot? The moment she saw my condition, she started berating my poor grandpa. Even while tending to my injuries. She got angrier once he told her why we ended up in the drain. Come to think about it, maybe he should not have mentioned the fact that he decided to ‘go for it’.

After tucking me into bed, she gave him a piece of her mind on what she thought about his macho decision. I dozed off listening to her scolding him…

Only later on did I learn that my grandpa too had sustained injuries from our fall. He did not even tell my grandma that, and nursed himself instead. My grandma of course felt very bad after that.

My mom took me to the clinic when she got home from her school. After being properly fussed by the doctor, mom and grandparents, I was quite proud to show off the scar I obtained as a result of my grandpa’s ‘go for it’ decision.

The scar has been a part of me for so long, that I think I will feel weird should I not have it anymore. It’s like a mark that says “this is me”. A mark that will always remind me of my grandpa.

:)

awaiting

This post was initially posted on 29t of Aug, 2005.

It hurts me to see my grandma now.
Such a strong willed lady
waiting to join her husband
and children who went before her.

Only 15, she left all that was familiar.
With her new born baby
to a foreign country
which promised a better income.

Became a cook for a Japanese General.
Fearing a harsh punishment
if a mistake is made.
Determinedly refused to go back to her homeland
but stayed on in this new land
with the Japanese and British
warring to claim ownership.

She met a kind hearted and soft spoken man.
Married him and began a new family.
She found a safe and comfortable home.
And an honorable man to claim her son as his own.

She survived the war.
And saw her family grow.
Independence was declared.
She found a new home.

She has seen the best
and worse life has to offer.
She has found happiness
and endured sadness.

She survived her children’s death
and her husband’s departure.

She witnessed her grandchildren`s
graduation
wedding
birth.

It saddens me.
To see this small and fragile lady
battling worries
seen and felt only by her
whereas our assurances
go unheard.

The elegant, graceful and courageous lady
she once was
Awaits her own calling.
And it pains my heart.

My grandma passed away on 21st October 2007. I still can`t believe that she is no longer just a call away..