Two Hundred.

This post marks the 200th entry in my blog since I started blogging. What started as a means of venting my frustrations, ones that I can't quite confide freely, and recording chapters and memorable events in life has now evolved into a makan blog (though I am sure as hell won't let this overwhelm the blog - I guess I just love shots of food), but still is, in its entirety My Recordings of Life.

It's been some time since I hit the Anger and Frustration button while blogging, occasionally, yes but not as often anymore (going back through my posts, I realized that those ranting days consists mostly of assignments in university and political crap during Lifeguarding days that twisted me upside down).

I'm feeling more melancholic these days, especially since my most favorite person in the world has not been feeling well.

Ah Ma.

It happened all too sudden. One day she was all fine, both feet firmly on ground, bustling around the kitchen and whipping up all sorts of great cooking that each and every one of her grandchildren adore. At 80, she can still get on her humble bicycle and cycle to the field, practise tai chi with her friends and then later to the market every morning, without fail.

Ah Ma is just so gifted in the kitchen. She knows exactly how much of salt to put into the sambal petai and how much water to add into the laksa broth. Every single magic that she conjures with her wok and pot never fails to warm up our hearts.... and tummies.

Then the next day she complained of her legs hurting and just like that her life changed. My beloved grandma started to depend on walking sticks. Shuffling from one room to another. She's so used to do things on her own and now she has to depend on her eldest daughter to even bathe.

Then the depression.

Every time I talk to her on the phone, I just well up. She would say things like, she's getting old and the most heartbreaking of all, she's really kek sim that she can't cook for her grandchildren anymore. Isn't she just lovable in a very sad way? Her priority was to please us, her grandchildren.
I still don't really know how to deal with matters like these. Sickness and ultimately, death. It's a cruel fact of life. Is it justified to say that those who meet Death will now be in a better place? Or is it just a way to make ourselves feel better and the acceptance a little bit easier?

Either way I'm just really glad that all of us grandchildren have taken the initiative to call, visit and crack silly jokes to cheer Ah Ma up. Filial at its best.

I always consider myself more of a free-thinker, both a believer and non-believer.

But now I look up to the skies and pray, digging up every last ounce of belief I possess.

Ah Ma,

You still need to teach me how to make that awesome sambal petai of yours. And about a thousand more dishes.

You can just supervise, I'll cook and you'll judge. I'll try a hundred times until you're satisfied. Then I'll drive you for morning dim sum and later to Auntie's place for your weekly hair perm.

Please,

Just get well soon.

Your youngest grand daughter,
Su Yin