mother’s day is next sunday.
my mum currently resides in cambodia, Phnom Penh.
every few months, she comes back to singapore and spends her time with her friends and family.
when her 2 hour silkair flight lands at changi airport, she returns to this part of her life here. where she spent 50 years of her life building relationships with people, laying the foundations and wiring in the networks. so much so that, she could leave for 2 years and come back to this part of her life as and when she likes. where her relationships with people, remain the same, simply because, she hasn’t changed.
its weird for me to talk about her like this. its like i’m some random person writing her biography. but i’m her daughter. i’m a product of her life, her love.
but i feel compelled to talk about her like she’s a stranger to me because she does hide alot of things to herself.
my previous post was about how people who keep things to themselves allow people to understand them better.
and i still agree with that sentiment. but i have to admit, our emotional detachment is something that has penetrated itself into every fibre of my being, and as a result, underlies a huge part of my relationships with people.
but in a weird way, this detachment in my family equates to trust.
i love my family so much. we don’t share alot with each other but there’s this overwhelming trust that everyone’s doing what we can to keep this family happy and free of worry.
my parents work hard at their jobs. and my sister and i study hard, so that eventually, we’d have jobs too, jobs that could replace our parent’s jobs so they can retire.
essentially, we’re each other’s lives. And i’m so proud i’m a part of theirs, and they’re a part of mine.
thanks, mummy, for creating this family. its downright awesome.