Family Matters

Tomorrow's a public holiday here for the Hindus, Deepavalli. Which reminds me painfully of the fact that I won't get to spend the best part of Chinese Lunar Year with my family. It sucks. Damn job. I haven't had quality time with all of them for so long. When I go home for the weekends, either my sis is not there, or my mom is not, and the weekends are too short. It's like just a matter of time before I'm driving back to the city again. It's not like I'm homesick or anything, but my family's been going through a lot the past few years and I want to be home to make more good memories with them. The bad ones are quickly overtaking the good ones. Deaths, cancer, debts, aunts bickering over the will, infant nieces hospitalised, financial problems, schizophrenia...jeez, you name it. It gets pretty sickening, but hey, still kin.

The other day I was picking out some old clothes for the Salvation Army and I came across this black skirt my mother bought for me so many years ago. It was then I realised that (after so many years) my mom actually forked out RM60+ for it. You might think, what's the big deal here. But my mom's the type that pinches pennies to the extreme. Every single cent matters and makes a hell of a difference to her. When as kids, my sis and I often stand there in embarassment when she argues heatedly with the vegetable seller over the matter of a few cents. We used to hate going to the market with her. Everything was about money money money. There was only 1 Barbie doll in the family and she sewed us the doll's clothes instead of getting those Martel outfit packs. I really thought I was poor, especially when mom told me to get used school textbooks from the school book scheme, instead having to buy new ones for us. So it really means something, to have mom actually pay RM60 for the damn skirt. I remember that the store was on sale, and we expected the stuff in there to be discounted. Unfortunately, this little black skirt was not. Mom just took one look at the pricetag and kinda froze, while I was standing there worried, totally sure that she will ask me to pick a cheaper one. But she did not. Just said that it's fine, and got it for me. I didin't really get it then when we left that store. I got it now, 5 years later.

Knowing this makes me realise that my mom loves us more than she cares to admit. All the hurtful stuff she said, the beatings she gave us, they don't hurt as much anymore now that I think about it. She could just wash her hands off us and my dad and leave, but she didin't. We might not grow up to be perfect people, but having what I have now is just as good.