I Am Sensitive

I Am Sensitive

Monday, February 16, 2009

My Faraway Auntie...

Dear Diary,
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I was watching ‘Desperate Housewives’ on TV and the old woman who is Edie’s next door neighbour suddenly reminds me of an old woman I used to know from my days in Singapore. *Pause* Diary, as I am writing this down, I just realized that I didn’t get her name at all. All those while, I just called her ‘Auntie’ because she is way much older than I am and calling her ‘Auntie’ seems very appropriate. I am feeling a bit uneasy with myself now that I came to realized I didn’t even ask her name.
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Diary, I miss her and I am wondering how she is doing now. It has been three years since I last saw her and I hope and pray that she is in the pink of health. Auntie worked at the office where I used to work. She was the cleaner there. She came daily and stayed for about an hour or so to make sure the office was cleat, tidy and neat. Every morning she would come and she would greet me with her smile and spent her time chatting with me before my boss came in. She never fails to chat with me whenever my boss was not around. She always had something to talk about that made me wonder at times if there is a day that she will not have anything to talk about. Do not get me wrong Diary, I have always been appreciative towards her intentions sharing her stories with me but I have to admit that it can get to me sometimes.
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Auntie lives alone by herself in a rented flat. She survives on her own doing cleaning jobs at offices. Her husband has been dead for years and she has a son whom she did not raise. Her husband passed on when her son was a year old. When her husband died, she had to go to work to put food on the table for herself and her son. In order to make a living, she had to leave her son under the care of her sister in law. In the beginning, it was just day care service that her sister in law rendered but as her son grew older, she had to unofficially give her sister in law full custody of her son. But she still carries out her responsibility as a mother by giving her son monthly allowance for food and studies even when her son has reached an age where he no longer needs financial support from his mother.
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Auntie often told me stories of her son. She said her son is not a person with normal IQ level. Her son is ‘slow’. That was how she described her son. I didn’t really understand when she described her son as ‘slow’ but I guess when a person is being described as ‘slow’ what else could it be if it is not related to the level of IQ? At the age of sixty, Auntie still works hard to earn and save every penny so that she could still give some to her son. Her son is her priority and she thinks of herself second after her son.
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Sometimes, I bought lunch for her and I could see the feeling of pure gratitude in her eyes when I gave her the lunch. Didn’t matter what it was as long as they were food to fill her empty stomach, it was enough to make her happy. She told me her son is not attached to her. There was a day when she was walking in the street and ran into her son but before she could came up to her son to chat up with him, her son walked away pretending not to notice her. I looked at her face when she told me that story and I could sense that she was sad beyond description. I couldn’t think of anything that I could say to make her feel better. I wished I would have said something to ease her pain and disappointment. All I could think at that time was how could a son do that to his parent? It was not like Auntie had given up on him to go after her own dreams and goals. Auntie had to do what she had to do so that he could have a comfortable life and get an education. Did he not understand all that?
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Diary, I am wondering how she is doing right now. It has been three years since I last met her. I wonder how she has been and if she is well and healthy. I miss talking to her, listening to her stories and hearing her theories on life. I just wished I could do more for her. I should have been a friend to her instead of just a girl in the office whom she talked to. I hope her son has realized the reasons why she had to give him to his aunt instead of blaming her on why she gave him away. I hope someday he will take care of her come what may because after all, she is still his flesh and blood.

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