> >>> Old Age, I decided, is a gift

> >>>
> >>>
> >>> I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have
> >>> always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my
> >>> body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I
> >>> am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks
> >>> like my mother!), but I don't agonize over those things for long.
> >>>
> >>> I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving
> >>> family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've
> >>> become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become
> >>> my own friend.
> >>>
> >>> I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making
> >>> my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but
> >>> looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be
> >>> messy, to be extravagant.
> >>>
> >>> I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before
> >>> they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
> >>>
> >>> Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer
> >>> until 4 AM and sleep until noon?
> >>>
> >>> I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60&70's, and
> >>> if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love .... I will.
> >>>
> >>> I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging
> >>> body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to,
> >>> despite the pitying glances from the jet set .....

> >>> They, too, will get old.
> >>>
> >>> I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is
> >>> just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important
> >>> things.
> >>>
> >>> Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not
> >>> break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even
> >>> when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are
> >>> what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never
> >>> broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being
> >>> imperfect.
> >>>
> >>> I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning
> >>> gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep
> >>> grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died
> >>> before their hair could turn silver
> >>>
> >>> As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about
> >>> what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even
> >>> earned the right to be wrong.
> >>>
> >>> So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I
> >>> like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but
> >>> while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could
> >>> have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert
> >>> every single day. (If I feel like it)
> >>>
> >>>
> >>> FRIENDS FOREVER!

Don't leave home without it...

Words for the wise...

Desiderata…

Go placidly among the noise and haste

and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender

Be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly;

and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;

for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your career, however humble;

it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs;

for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;

many persons strive for high ideals

and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.

Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love;

for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,

gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit, to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the Universe; no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,

no doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,

and whatever your labors and aspirations,

In the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham and drudgery and broken dreams,

it is still a beautiful world.

Be careful.

Strive to be happy.

Watching his Barney programs everyday, Kimo's favourites continue to be the ones that talk about ABCs most.

He also refuses to sit down and watch the telly; preferring to stand the whole 30, 45 or 60 minutes of his shows.

Voyeuring life through a 2-year old...

As a mom to a fast-growing 2 year old, I sometimes wonder, if I am treating Kimo a little too "adult" for his age. For instance, I tell him to go and put on his shoes (as if he knows how to do it), which of course, he takes his shoes and asks one of his parents to put it on for him. Or, I tell him that he is okay and that hah, he will be fine, after falling absurdly down or off wherever he was at. You know, seeing him "adult" like that, or rather, being "a big boy", and hence, he should let go things of his baby-hood days, i.e., crying on end, or whatever it is reminiscent of a baby.

But just yesterday, a moment happened to me. That crystallized in meaning quite rapidly and thus, became significant, in which, today, I found myself treating Kimo with a little more patience for his baby-to-toddler phase.

Yesterday, at the playground, Kimo excitedly approached two young children, ages about 8 and 6. These kids were playing at the slides. Kimo waved and communicated in his baby-talk. The kids, one girl and one boy, were aware of him but paid him no mind. For the obvious reasons, that Kimo was simply too young to befriend, and that the slides were more inviting than attempting to decipher Kimo's gibberish. Perhaps, the more practical reason, that their mommies and daddies were sitting close by and had probably warned them about a thousand times not to talk to strangers. Okay...

But then, they began to talk between themselves and this is what I heard...

Boy: "What is wrong with his eyes?" "They look funny"
Girl: "Juling bah tu" [Cross-eye, don't you know?]

I didn't attempt to insert myself as the third conversant in their talk. But as it was already getting quite dark (and that Kimo had pooped in his diaper!), I had planned on going home...just before the children started talking about noticing Kimo's eyes.

So, as I ushered Kimo home, I encouraged him to wave goodbye to the "abang" [big brother] and "kakak" [big sister] that he had looked excitedly at and hoped for some playtime company. Kimo's small goodbye waves were returned by the abang. But the kakak said to the boy, "Eee, takut sia mata dia" [Eee, I am scared of his eyes.]

Back home, I got Kimo out of his soiled diapers and proceeded to the nightly routine of putting him to bed - without a single thought crossing my mind of what transpired at the playground.

This morning, there was a "different-ness" about how I wanted to have my day play out, and end. It was to be Kimo-centred, with a trip to the hair salon and have the auntie there trim Kimo's sides and back. Kimo's hair appears somewhat unevenly left-back to his right-back side due to the uneven structure of his head due to the 'flat-on-your-back' days at the NICU. So, hair-growing, at least for Kimo, was dependent on how I, the mom, saw his hair "appearing" more evenly or not from day to day. Even if this meant, letting his hair grow out and him looking less appealing.

But today, I thought and decided, without a moment's hesitation, that Kimo was to have a haircut deserving of how good his handsome little face is. To have a haircut to not just to be done with the eventual weekly/monthly hair-trimming but to make a statement, that of his bigboy-ness, and indeed, to buoy up, his mom's spirit. Because I believed that by looking a bit more appealing, people can sometimes forget how less appealing some parts of you are...

Essentially, in life, Kimo will have to learn to deal with his squint, and how his squint affects how others feel about him, his squint, and indeed, about their own feelings about how something looks funny and scary.

But for now, just like today, the adults, who got the free gift of living life all over again through the eyes albeit the non squint-free eyes of a 2-year old, must protect, respect and celebrate all that the 2-year old stands for, now and in the future... So today, Kimo got more hugs than spanks, more talking to than talking down-to, more attention than mis-attention...