Monday, May 28, 2007

A Big Hole of What's Left

I was back at home during the weekend. I had my time there but on Sunday, there was a blackout that happened in the afternoon (2.30 p.m) and another one at night (8.30). My brother thinks that there's something wrong but he kind of talk jokes and is a little cynic.

Throughout Sunday, he was frustrated that he could not connect to the Internet (we are using the Streamyx line) and I was convinced that there is definitely something wrong with the remote server node. I was pretty sure. But when I called the TM NET hotline about this problem, most of those people there think that it's got to do with my LAN card or the line thing. But surprisingly after power was restored yesterday night, I was able to connect to my computer and so does he too. Boo-hoo for him really. But he's got plenty of time since he's having a 2-week mid-year break. And today, he just went out with some friends to watch Pirates.

As for me, I noticed that at times when I look at the kitchen - the utensils there laying dormant for many months, I thought of granny. After she was gone, at times I felt that there is a big hole in the house - not physically - but emotionally. The atmosphere became different. I can no longer experience her home cook food like what I had the years leading to end of last year.

I could think that as if the seat that a person use to seat there got vacant or something. The first room became my brother's bedroom and he used it to sleep and play his Playstation games there. I always have mixed feelings of how things would go when she's gone. At times, it's dull, at times, I can feel freedom without restriction or nagging.

On Saturday, I went to the temple (her final resting place) and I lit a joss stick for her. Took me ten minutes to pray - telling her my problems - as if she is still alive...I just told her of my problems and frustrations when I am not at home. Most of the time I kept bubbling about lack of support to go on.

But I never feel much affected by those things. I keep telling myself to move on, not to stick on one point. Other relatives told me of the same thing, and so does my mum. What's the point of sticking at one point and never move like Chuck Austen?

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