Weekend
by Jun
26/03/2010
From the lobby of an economy class hotel in Melaka, i write in short sentences.
My grandmother is in the hospital.
From what little i know, she suffered a stroke.
From what i have seen, she’s dying.
From memory, she used to be a large smiling old woman.
Now, she’s stuck in a hospital bed.
She’s stick thin.
She can’t speak.
And i don’t know if she can hear me when i speak to her.
I think so, because of the very slight nods she gives me in response.
She has not been eating much, just milk.
I thought i saw my father’s eyes redden.
Only once before i saw him cry.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.
I don’t even want to take pictures.
Right now i don’t feel anything.
I’m just looking at all these.
I just need a smoke.
-
27/03/2010
From the lobby of an economy class hotel in Melaka, i write in short sentences.
I shaved.
We went to visit my grandfather’s grave this morning.
I took pictures.
Then in the afternoon, we visited my grand mother in hospital.
Situation hasn’t changed very much,
Her hand moved to cover her mouth when she coughed.
That could be taken as a sign of improvement.
We all care for her.
But we all look like we’re waiting for her to die.
We all sit around the ward, and take turns to talk to her.
I didn’t take pictures in the hospital.
I wanted to, but didn’t.
Then we went shopping at Jaya Jusco.
My father bought a pair of yellow shorts.
My mother bought a leg shaver for five dollars.
I bought a roll of film.
And a battery for my camera.
My sister bought a pack of chewing gum.
Then we went to the hospital again to visit.
Then we went to visit a nursing home.
On the way back to the hotel, i took pictures from inside of the car.
Of people, and the streets.
The internet access here doesn’t work very well.
Going home tomorrow.
-
29/03/2010
From the confines of my room, i write short sentences.
She’s getting better.
She says she feels better.
My aunts say it’s because we visited.
She says she’s feeling hungry.
But the doctors say she can’t take solid food.
I helped cut her fingernails.
I nod at what little she manages to say.
Even if i can’t hear her frail voice.
We should really stay by her side.
But we have to go back to work.
I have to back to work.
So we all go back to work.
My father’s car broke down.
My uncle sent me to the Johor checkpoint.
I had no money on me.
My sister bought my dinner and bus fare home.
Tomorrow’s another monday.
Wait, it already is.
