Reflections: Changes
Lots of things swimming in my head. Not exactly happy about it, but well, it’s inside there.Guess all these mulling in the head started with the wedding. Yes, wedding.
Went to my ex-colleague’s wedding yesterday. Went for the church ceremony in the morning, and then went for the dinner at a hotel restaurant.
Alone.
We were a gang of four, ex-colleagues of a fiasco of an educational institution, which shall remain nameless, for it doesn’t really bear mentioning. However if I hear anyone considering sending their child there, I will pull out the red STOP sign in a flash.
As I was saying, we were a gang of four. Two boys, two gurls. The other gurl got married. Actually she was already engaged to her fiance for four years. And she did tell us before that we were invited to the wedding, whenever it happened. Well, it finally did. And I was so looking forward to it.
But I went alone.
One boy decided to head off overseas for a part-holiday and part-work thing. The other boy and I already knew, before he gathered the guts to tell the other gurl, one week before he left.
The other boy had to bail 5 days before the big day, because his grandfather passed away, after fighting a long hard spell of some illness.
And so I went alone.
And never felt so alone in the church, sitting in the pew, with tears tickling my throat at the beautiful ceremony, at the sacred vows spoken in front of God and family and relatives and friends, at the sorrow that I had no one to share it with.
And never felt so alone in the restaurant, sitting at the table, no one else in sight at my table, drinking my tea, thinking what a wonderful cosy restaurant they had picked, with some relatives and their squealing children already present, with me wondering when the dinner will start, and wishing that I had someone to talk to about this wonderful ex-colleague of ours, about how she was finally settled.
We, the gurls, were terribly disappointed that the boys could not make it. I imagine she was disappointed because she said she had only invited a handful of her friends, because her friends, she admitted, the ones who really mattered, were only a handful, and then only less than a handful could make it.
But the way I see it, the one who should be sadder, was me. At least, when she turned around to smile at her friends, she could see me and tell herself, thank God she’s there. But I sat there, even sadder, because there was no one there with me. It is sadder for the only one of the gang who made it. And I hope, that if I had the fortunate event of walking down the aisle, that my gang can make it there, ALL TOGETHER, and witness the happy occasion, and make laughter and inside jokes about and with each other, even if the bride or the groom are really the main butt of the jokes.
But I met an interesting fellow at my table. No, not a potential. It doesn’t always have to be that way. Anyway, he is the fiance of the bride’s boss and they are currently pursuing a long-distance relationship, which in my mind, is pretty stupid and difficult. No telling who can do what on the other end. But I digress.
My point is this, he’s a herbalist. A self tutored one, not trained or certified. He had interests and dabbled in it, and managed to work out a pretty successful mail-order herbal business with a couple friends, while maintaining a day job as a building contractor. When I mentioned that I was working in a health magazine, I could literally see the wheels of profit spinning in his eyes. He said that if I had the interests and the desire, I could make something out of it, and also, with the finessing of the distribution list from my company, I could make more. But he was quick to say that I had to juggle the ethical part of that. But he said he was willing to recommend me to go to the US for training. Yet the one things always standing in my way of dreams is money.
Nevertheless, it got me thinking. How coincidental that at a point where I am reanalysing my life in terms of career and self attainment, that I should be given choices to make a career change, some degree of tentative and shaky self-employment, and a potentially lucrative side job. All of which are terrifying on their own. And I still haven't made any pre-conclusive decisions or progress yet.
Then there’s this slight incident on the home front. My mom has a bad case of tennis elbow. The doctor’s orders are to avoid carrying heavy things and cooking for the next three weeks, if she wanted to make a clean recovery with no fear of reoccurrence in future. And the first thing that went through my mind was that I would have to be home more often to help out. And I felt walled in. Trapped. Here I am, trying to avoid being home too early and so avoid conflict, and yet here is this situation that calls for me to be home more often, which means lots more chances for conflict.
It sure bites.
It’s not that I don’t want to be home to help out. I just don’t want trouble. I know I don’t help out enough at home. Maybe she’s right. She’s accused me often enough that I don’t treat the home we live in as home. She’s complained enough that I don’t do enough around the house. Perhaps she’s right in that I don’t really treat it as home. I don’t feel comfortable. I don’t like feeling daily that I have to be careful, to not step on her toes, to not irritate her by not washing the dishes the way she wants them to, by not hanging out the clothes to dry the way she wants them to, by not cleaning the floor the way she wants them to.
Maybe I’m meant to live that way. But I still think I wanna break down that wall and make a path out of those bricks. I ain’t gonna stay walled for long. I refuse to be.
posted by Jennirhiow @ 12:46 am
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