After MEST

 

If I don’t continue writing here, Alman will one day wonder if I had lost interest in leaving my memoir for him. Not at all.  Alman is 8 years now, reads well. We read his story books together at bedtime – currently it is the Kate Dicamillo series. He couldn’t get over The Tale of Despereaux and Flora and Ulysses - he finished both on his own after half-way through with me, but is finding the adventure in Because of Winn-Dixie rather slow-moving; past half the book and I’m still the story teller and he the actors. Ishmael turned 5 last November, is perpetually with his white board, writing his messages (asking everyone how to spell this and that) and can even send short messages via Whatsapp.  

A lot actually happened in the last 2 years since I last wrote here. By a twist of fate, I enrolled in the Master in English Studies (MEST) program instead of Counselling. I graduated last September. I did study hard and enjoyed the whole learning experience, got acquainted with some wonderful lecturers, made new friends. It has been a life enriching journey. A lot of thinking, research and writing went into doing the assignments. Perhaps I have not got over the exhaustion of completing those tasks - over 2 years and 3 months, with only 2-week semester breaks three times a year.  It has been almost 3 months now since I do not have to hurry with my morning chores to get down to my study materials, and do not have to carry my reading bricks to bed past midnight. I don’t feel much like writing anything yet, but I will presently get back into it. I have been catching up on my reading list which grew but was kept aside during the MEST period. MEST introduced me to many great authors and different genres of literature. I have been reading at random before, now I have some new pathways. My latest exciting discovery is Irving Yalom (psychiatrist, novelist, nonfiction writer) and now I am stuck on Alice Munro’s short stories.

Mak passed away peacefully on 14^th December last year. Not a day has passed since, without her image conjured before my very eyes – bent over the stove, smiling watching her grandchildren playing in the living room, leaning decidedly sideways in her wheelchair after her bath. I find some comfort in my own reminisces of her in this blog (“Grand Dame”).

The corona virus pandemic has raged and reigned upon us since March this year, sending us indoors into our own confined spaces  – with our own families or alone; and away from other confined or congested spaces. There are blessings to working and schooling from home and minimising physical contact with others, not least of which is family solidarity and more quiet time for contemplation, reading, new creative activities.

There had been a few unusual stormy episodes among my siblings in the few months following mum’s passing, perhaps symptomatic of our grief needing expression. At times the CMCO has made us reach out to each other more intensely than usual, having had to miss family Raya gathering this year, kenduris and birthday celebrations at each other’s homes. As for Cik Minah (her hospital sojourn related here in “Aura of Compassion”), the lockdown may have aggravated her general restlessness, making her miss her meal outings with Aya and consequently, lowering her tantrum threshold. Creative strategies needed all around to manage her moods.

I get to chat with Idzfan more often during the lockdown. Melbourne is almost back to normal now, but it is still painful thinking of him so far away, not knowing when he can come home for a break…or who knows, a new job that will bring him home, or nearer to home. Visualizing it is one of my favourite pastimes. Meantime, life goes on, we look forward to the new year and covid subsiding.