Friday, March 30, 2012

Tisya dan Mak Teh

Minggu ni Tisya selsema batuk lagi. Rabu lepas jumpa Dr mahani lagi.

Disebabkan kalau duduk dekat taska (Nenek-sitter sekarang sudah buka taska sendiri), lambat la nak sembuh. Salah-salah jadi lagi teruk. Sebab kami berdua memang tak dapat ambil cuti, terpaksa la minta tolong dari Wilayah Semenyih Clan. Adik-in-law, Diza pula yang kena.

Isk, pagi-pagi kena briefing kat Diza aka Mak Teh. Ingat briefing pasal apa?
Briefing pasal scenes dalam Sound of Music. So nanti Mak Teh tau nak cari scene mana, bila di request Tisya.
Aiihh poor girl.
I hope she'll be allrite, and I hope she survive the day.
And I'm talking about Mak Teh's survival here if you know what I mean *duhhhhh*
Dah la Mak Teh keja malam nanti. Tsk tsk tsk.
Thank you, Mak Teh.

Masa Mengandung Dulu, I Lari Tiap Kali Nampak Kamera.

Except for this one, kerana Dora (Joyah) ini adalah kenalan rapat semasa bersama-sama bekerja di Kompeni-yang-Bayar-Gaji-Seciput-Itu. Dan pada hari gambar diambil merupakan hari terakhirnya di situ.

Alang-alang Cik Kak ni dah upload di FB.

Pandanglah lihatlah, daguku berlapis, wajahku yang bulat, lenganku yang besar dan hidungku yang kembang.

p/s: Tu perut tak masuk gambar tu!

Friday, March 23, 2012

Cerita Februari

Hola!

Lama sudah tidak ketemu. Bulan lepas bermula dengan sangat bergaya. Tapi di minggu terakhir, Tisya batuk teruk. Tiga hari batuk, masih belum baik. Pukul 4 pagi, kami menyerah diri ke hospital.

Tahun lepas, bulan yang sama, dua-dua, anak dan bapaknya sekali warded. Tisya dengan Bronchiolitis, dan Papa pula kena Typhoid. Petang tu, patutnya kami bawa Tisya ke hospital, jadi untuk alas perut Kekasih beli kuih dari gerai tepi jalan. Tapi kita singgah klinik dulu untuk nebulizer. Balik rumah, dia terus sakit perut, cirit-birit. Petang sikit terus muntah-muntah. Tisya batuk makin teruk. Saya ingat lagi malam itu, Kekasih  dibawa ke hospital oleh mak-in-law. Saya di rumah menjaga Tisya yang boleh tahan teruk demam dan batuknya. That's the longest night i ever had. Pukul 2 pagi, Tisya sudah tidak tidur kerana batuk teruk. Pukul 2 pagi, saya capai kunci kereta untuk pergi emergency di An-Nur. Turun bawah rumah, sekali tengok hujan pula. Sambil dukung anak, naik ke atas untuk ambil payung. Redah hujan untuk pergi kereta, sampai dalam kereta, Tisya muntah pula. Keluar kereta balik, redah hujan, naik atas balik. Tukar baju Tisya, turun balik. Third time's a charm. Redah hujan tengah pagi buta pergi emergency untuk ambil nebulizer. Esok pagi pergi hospital, sah kena admit. Papa tingkat 4, anak tingkat 5.

Terkontang kanting la jaga anak sakit sorang-sorang. Suami pandai-pandai la jaga diri sendiri. Kemudian, kami dilarang pula jumpa suami sebab Typhoid nya agak teruk, dan boleh berjangkit.

Kita main telefon-telefon guna telefon hospital. Dan sebab Kekasih tak boleh nak telan makanan, jadinya makanannya dihantar ke bilik kami berdua. Nasib la adik saya, Hidayah ada, tolong angkutkan barang-barang.

Lepas tu Tisya dah OK, dan boleh discharged, tapi Papanya masih kat dalam ward. Maka sorang-sorang la kita angkut barang balik rumah pula.

Maka tahun ini, apa Kekasih tolong sama jaga, jadi tak terasa nak letak kepala dalam mangkok tandas teruk sangat la. Seminggu kami di hospital tahun ni, dua hari saya tinggal Tisya untuk pergi kerja. Tinggal lah dia dengan Kekasih dekat hospital. Cuma agak terkilan sebab tak dapat hantar SuperMak, Super Ayah dan Hazwani pergi umrah.

Dan sememangnya tak beritahu mereka Tisya masuk hospital. Tapi ada pula jiran kat Segamat anaknya masuk hospital yang sama pula. Dah SuperMak telefon tanya betul ke Tisya sakit. Rasa bersalah juga bila dia dapat tahu berita dari orang lain. Tapi kesian la Mak saya, dia sendiri nak ke sana sini sambil jaga Nenek lagi, nak uruskan kedai lagi, nak uruskan adik yang dalam minggu periksa lagi.

Last-last mereka pula datang melawat kami kat hospital, dan kita cuma dapat hantar mereka dekat pintu hospital saja.

Jadi begitulah cerita kami Februari tahun ini berbanding tahun lepas.
Nanti la cerita yang lain pulak.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Sarah Kay: If I should have a daughter






If I should have a daughter, instead of Mom, she's gonna call me Point B, because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me.

And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands, so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say, “Oh, I know that like the back of my hand.”

 And she's going to learn that this life will hit you hard in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach.


But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.


There is hurt here that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or poetry.


So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn't coming, I'll make sure she knows she doesn't have to wear the cape all by herself.


Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal.


Believe me, I've tried.

“And, baby”  I'll tell her, “don't keep your nose up in the air like that. I know that trick; I've done it a million times. You're just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house, so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place, to see if you can change him.”


But I know she will anyway, so instead I'll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby, because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can't fix.


Okay, there's a few heartbreaks that chocolate can't fix.


But that's what the rain boots are for.


Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it.


I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass-bottom boat, to look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind, because that's the way my mom taught me.


That there'll be days like this.


♫ There'll be days like this, my momma said. ♫


When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises; when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape; when your boots will fill with rain, and you'll be up to your knees in disappointment.


And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you.


Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's swept away.

You will put the wind in winsome, lose some.

You will put the star in starting over, and over.

And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.

And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty damn naive.

But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar.

It can crumble so easily, but don't be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.

“Baby,” I'll tell her, “remember, your mama is a worrier, and your papa is a warrior, and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more.”

Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things.

And always apologize when you've done something wrong.

But don't you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.

Your voice is small, but don't ever stop singing.

And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street-corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.
 
Hell yeahhh, they should meet your mother!