Naps

They used to be one of my favorite pastimes, even though I couldn't have them often enough. Lately it's just been so hectic because every weekend that I get, I make plans with friends or family so that I don't have to be alone for too long in that empty house.

The truth is, I've been craving for a nap. But on Saturdays I have to do the laundry and maybe tell myself that I'm going to mop the floors, and after that I'd be meeting someone or another to hang out. By the end of the night I'm so exhausted that I can barely sleep, if that makes any sense.

The last time I woke up from a nap was to something horrible and unfathomable to me. Now the thought of taking a nap on a quiet Saturday after work sort of terrifies me, although I know my dad would still be there in the living room watching TV, just like he had been on that day. Sometimes my mind wanders into the past, to that fateful day (finally this phrase is being used after all the compositions in school). I still remember everything clearly. I can't erase it.

My room had been dark. It had been approximately 8pm. I was supposed to be meeting Anzhu to visit her dad in Tan Tock Seng hospital later around 9. Ha, life was so ironic - it made me travel in an ambulance with my dying mother to the same hospital before 9. (This may be hard for you to read because I'm being cynical and dark-humored about my mom's dying day but this mood is hard to shake out of when I'm stuck at work staring at a computer screen.)

Heck, I was supposed to go to a club with the rest of my friends after the hospital visit with Anzhu. Clubbing, on the day that my mother died. Fine, Mom, you made your point; you don't have to die to stop me from going clubbing, you dramatic fool. I wouldn't have gone if you had been heaving at home. But instead you pretended you were fine and went to have a ball with your friends downstairs at the community banquet. Well, when the ball started rolling, you dropped it.

I guess I am still mad at you for not letting me be there for your last breath. You must have felt so lost. Why didn't you wait until Dad or I got there? The thought of you dying without your closest kin by your side just kills me. This wasn't how I imagined it.

For years, since I was a kid, I'd thought about you dying. Because you had depression and kept talking about how you were going to die all the time. In primary school, I couldn't imagine myself getting into secondary school because I didn't know if you'd still be there. After secondary school, I kept thinking that you wouldn't be there to see me get into school because I'd waited too long. And then you went into the hospital after an episode and the new meds made you much better. So I began to hope. And I began to relax. Perhaps you could see me graduate. Fall in love. Fall out of love. Get married. Have a career. Have grandchildren for you. I started thinking about your 60th birthday celebration. I talked about getting my driver's license and driving you and Dad around Singapore. I could bring you to the temples where you could pray and be happy.

Well, I guess you're happy now. You better be, because all of us are miserable down here missing you. I am not going through all this melancholy crying bullshit just so you can feel mediocre up there. You have to be happy, Ma. Because that's the only way I can live with myself now.