OakMonster’s Den

What I wrote to my brothers:

I dreamed a lot last night. But one of the last thing was that I was home for Onk’s wedding.

Don’t laugh.

Who am I kidding. Laugh away!

That’s the gist of the dream because it was all quite a bit mumbo jumbo. Something including the fact that dad’s was the only working shower in the house, that Ake still lives in his room and I am in mine, that we have a hot tub in the backyard (where I ended up having to take a bath in because daddy was STILL in the shower).

And that I was setting two seats for the parents, poignantly missing mom.

I didn’t wake up crying, but I did cry promptly after I woke up.

I miss her something fierce today.

I guess I have been missing her for a bit since Mother’s Day a few days ago. Just didn’t have time to process it all. I have been so busy with everything and at some point I was trying not to feel it, occupying my time and my thought with something else.

You can only fight it for so long.

I have cried today. The hollow feeling in my chest is there. And it is just weird how your “heartache” could physically manifest.

Since I mentioned Mother’s Day, the hole in my chest has just been sitting there. That day, the office had that event at the Sony lot so I was preoccupied with a lot of things. Partly, I didn’t want to have time to dwell on the fact that I was missing my mother.

I kept pushing that through the week, busying myself with work and with Celeste’s going away. Losing one of my good friends at the office, although just across the street, is hard too. The dynamic of our little fun corner is already a little off, and now the glue is gone. It’s going to be interesting adjusting next week.

Friday night, I swore I didn’t want to do anything else. I left work on the early bus, feeling completely spent. I didn’t want to ride a bike to get dinner, but I made myself ask Brandon if we could. I didn’t want to sit and watch TV for the rest of the evening, but I couldn’t get myself to do anything else. All the while, I didn’t want to admit that my heart was aching and that there was a gaping hole in there.

Saturday came, as if he knew something was wrong, Brandon plotted out the day full of activities and I, not wanting to acknowledge my feelings, went with it. We got my bike fixed (the back fender was loose when I took a spill last week), bought a new door handle for my car (plastic is so old and brittle it broke off in Brandon’s hand), got pampered (Brandon got a 30-minute massage next door because the kink in his neck wouldn’t go away while I got a pedicure and extra long foot massage), and picked up groceries (made this awesome Spanish garlic chicken thing–will blog on Hmm…Food…Good soon).

But this morning, I wasn’t so lucky. The dream pretty much topped off the “I miss my mom” tank and spilled over.

I cried. Brandon held me for a while. Then he brought all of the stuffed animals in the room over to hang out with me, a “group hug” from my soft and fuzzy friends, not unlike how I used to do when I was a kid. I made me cry more but at the same time very comforting.

Mom’s first anniversary is already a few days away. And I am already a mess.

I was wondering why I woke up singing “Que Sera, Sera.” It’s one of my mom’s lullabies.

Today is Thai Mother’s Day.

The first without mom.

Here’s a red gerbera daisy instead of your favorite red rose, mom. Hope you like it.

I am sad to inform you that my cousin May and her partner Eva lost to the Singaporean team. Eva also lost women’s single earlier, so the US Badminton girls are all out of the running.

ETA: USA Network is now re-broadcasting May’s match with commentators. Of course, I was waiting to hear how badly they would butcher May’s long last name, Mangkalakiri. That’s pronounced Mang-ka-la-kee-ree, folks.

But the commentator went crazy there with. Mang-gala-CARRY.

Carry? Really?  How did the “I” become “A”?

The former USA Badminton president is the one going with the safe way, having known May, calling her May instead of trying the last name.

I am also sad to inform you that Thailand’s golden badminton girl also lost her match against China. It was expected that China would mow her over, but she actually won the first match and gave that lady the run for her money before losing.

Also in the news, the two hopes of Thai female weightlifters were quickly squashed. Not to mention that while one of them was competing in Beijing, her apartment in Thailand was gutted, killing her two dogs. Talk about a tough day!

Brandon and I watched the Korean swimmer kid redeemed himself from having disqualified as a 14-year-old. Remember the kid that fell in before the start? Yep, he’s not only back, but won the first ever swimming medal for South Korea. And it’s a gold. I was screaming for that kid.

More fun than watching Michael Phelps actually competing was watching his reaction during his first medal ceremony. The U.S. national anthem came on missing a few notes. At the end of the first verse, there was an awkward skip and it started over again. Brandon thought I was losing my mind, but I was singing along in my head there. I KNEW there was an extra verse in there. That little glitch didn’t register on Phelps’ face.

However, as we approached “o’er the land of the free”, the music suddenly was cut off. The camera was up close on Phelps. One second after that, he burst into laughter, along with the crowd–President Bush and the family included.

That, my friend, was an awesome Olympic moment. He sure as hell is not going to mix that one up with all the other medals he could be winning in this game.

Sunday. Justin graduated from medical school and Olaina finally became a doctor’s wife.

Monday. Brandon set off to Pennsylvania.  It was his dad’s birthday.

Today.  Brandon’s grandfather passed away.  It is also Brandon’s little niece Cheyenne’s birthday.

Tomorrow. Brandon’s niece Lauren graduates from high school.

The funeral is set for Saturday afternoon.

It’s a heart wrenching week all around for Brandon.  I am all this far away and my heart is heavy for him.  I want to be right over there and just hold the man for a little while, the way he was there to hold me when I came home the day mom died.  This is what it means that you want to be with someone so badly it physically hurts.

I did look into a flight out of here, but Brandon insisted that I stay put.  They can’t possibly add another body into grandma’s house at this point.  And another body is just going to be too many cooks in the kitchen.

Please continue to send more love and good mojo to Brandon and his family.  I really appreciate it.

I KNEW it was too good to be true when Athena started to hang out with us, when she comes running to me when she hears the jangles of the keys, when she sits purring on our floor begging us to rub her belly and every elsewhere on her fluffy black coat with a twinge of orange tabby pattern.

I don’t think it wouldn’t have been a big deal if the manager lady found Athena napping on the wicker chair, but the food and water bowls set the woman off.

According to the girls, the lady lost her shit and threatened eviction if the girls don’t get rid of the cat in 24 hours, traumatized the hell out of one of the housemates.  Mind you, the cat is not even inside the house.

At the prospect of sending her to a local shelter, we have a mental picture of this roaming garden kitty sitting miserable in a pen, possibly waiting to be put down.  We panicked.

I contacted my fellow cat lovers and did a quick research, and managed to find the girls some contact info for cat rescues and no-kill shelters in the area.   But I am hoping to find someone who would want to take her home right away.  (Anyone?  Anyone?)

Before I left to go to dinner tonight, I stopped over at the fence.  Athena came trotting over, meowing.  Not a second after she “marked” me, she was purring.  I damn near cried.  I rubbed her all over and even hugged her goodbye.

Just in case tomorrow never comes.

Only if we have our own backyard to keep her.  The timing is soooo off for this clandestine meeting.  She is perfect.  Well, a little nutty but understandable for a cat who has been outside on her own.  But we love her for that too.

I already miss the damned cat.  She’s not even mine, really.  I think Brandon is dealing with this loss in his own way too.

I hope that I get to see her one last time before she leaves permanently.

It’s beautiful outside.  So Cal is having a summer weekend again.  Brandon is out and about.  But here I am at home.

I told you my boss has this coughing cold, right?

Of course, I caught it.

I was at the office until 9 p.m. last night with a cold in development.  I was staying late in hopes that I would get most of the prep work for the Wednesday conference done so I don’t have to go in today or on Monday.  I don’t really remember eating the giant cobb salad Brandon brought home for me.  I however remember taking the last shot of Nyquil and went to bed.

Woke up nice and icky, my friends, and effectively got myself out of going back to the office today.  But that also put me out of going to Mazing Amy’s going away party.  That part totally sucks.

Because the cold is sitting pretty on my chest, I am blessed that I can taste my food.  And taste I can.  Especially when I am craving food as if I haven’t eaten in days.  I had soup. I had salad. I had apple fritters.  Along with all of that is the main stay of the day of green tea and Airborne interspersing with Tylenol and Mucinex which Brandon went out and got for me this morning.  God bless my husband who just came off of a case of strep throat himself.

Uh-oh.  I’m sweating.  I think the fever just broke.  That’s good sign, right?
I need a bath…

*sigh*

Greg–you know him on here as Cool Cat VP–passed away last night of pancreatic cancer. We were alerted to his conditions a few weeks ago, about as soon as he heard the news himself. It swooped in fast and took him away even faster.

Once again. I. Fucking. Hate. Cancer.

And just last week, the office put together a memory book for him and his wife. I bought a leather-bound album and all of us fill it to the brim with pictures with Greg and without Greg, pictures of our pets and kids, and note cards of messages.

I wrote something like this:

A man who can rock a pink shirt like nobody else’s business. A colleague who always there to listen and who can talk you in and out of doing anything. A friend who never says no to good company even when he would just sip seltzer. The person everyone wish they have the privilege to know and love like we have.

We miss you, Greg. We always will.

Our meeting with the producers for our Big Gala ran late yesterday and therefore I missed my bus.  I bummed a ride with the Producers, husband and wife team who live a few miles from me, and the Video Guy.

Of course, we chat all the way home about this and that and those.  And it came down to where I came from and who all else is back home.

“My dad and my brothers are still in Bangkok,” I said.  And then we launched into another conversation.

But when I said it, it was a strange thing to say.  My dad and my brothers.  I was hoping that the lack of mom mentioned in that would blow over.  But it didn’t.

“So, where is your mom?” the Producer Wife asked eventually.

This marks the first time I had to tell someone, “My mom passed away in August.”

And it was the weirdest thing out of my mouth.

So far, I have only been around people I know.  And people I know already knew.  The new friends I made, El Heffe and Lee, were there when it happened.  And the newest drinking buddies I made at a recent outting need not get into personal stuff.

I realize this is going to be the first of many times I will have to say “My mom passed away in August [this many years ago]” down the road as I meet new people along the way.

Definitely a growing pain all human has to experience sometimes.  But it’s not easy when it’s this fresh.

I have put together all the information about my mom on the page “In loving memory” on the sidebar under “the Whole Story”. You can go over there to get all the info you need.

My mom had always valued education. Aside from the Red Cross, this was another cause she supported. As a matter of fact, a monk turned up one night at the wake. Apparently, my mom had paid for his ordination 10 some years ago when she and the aunties stopped at a countryside temple. He saw my mom’s funeral announcement in the papers and came to pay his respect. But I digress.

My dad used to teach at a university. He has some contacts there to explore the opportunity to set up a scholarship for architecture school in my mom’s honor. This is definitely something I can get behind.

Now, back to life without mom.

It seems we all have survived our first night of “normal”. My dad, my brother and his girlfriend had dinner at the house. The first home cooked dinner since I got back. Dad watches the news after dinner and heads back to the office. Onk is back in his true form and already sneaked out of the house after sending off my any-day-now sister-in-law. Me, at the computer, blogging away…at dad’s office instead of my own. Ake still has a few days left on bereavement so I don’t know what he’s doing.

The only thing missing from the routine is mom.

Dad and brothers used to visit mom at random time during the week.  Ake swung in at lunch.  Onk’s schedule varied.  And dad usually went before dinner (which these days is served around 8 p.m.) or sometime in the afternoon on his way back from meetings.  And when I was here, I was there from morning until night, pretty much.

After her death, everyone still had a schedule to keep: work during day and be at the temple by 6:30 for the wake.  Then the cremation and the scattering of ashes, still mom’s events although the schedule was different.

The wake was like a transition period.  A bit of a built-in adjustment courtesy of our traditions.  Or maybe it was just 8 more days of denial.  Frankly, part of me felt like mom wasn’t really gone during those evenings at the temple.

The cremation hit me like a brick.  Leaving the spot in the Gulf of Thailand where we “scattered” mom’s ashes (more like sinking the water soluble urn, really) hit me like a Mack truck full of said bricks.

Pueng, our faithful maid, is not taking all of this very well.  We almost had to drag her away from the crematorium as she went back in there to be right by the “oven”, refusing to leave mom’s side.

I think we all try to get her to move on along like the rest of us are by keeping her busy and putting some normalcy back into her life.  Having me home right now is giving her one more person to take care of.As for Kob, the caregiver, the person who was there as my mom drew her last breath, heads back out to her home town for a few months before returning to city for the next job.  What a job to have, to care for the sick, got all attached to them and have them die on you.  I really believe hospice nurses and caregivers, like Eve being created from Adam’s rib, are born with bits of angels in them.

*

I woke up this morning and found myself missing my mother.

I pulled her clothes out of the closet in dad’s bedroom today.  Some of the pieces I remember well.  Some of them I haven’t seen before.  Funny how I don’t miss her while I  am elbow deep in her clothes, breathing in her scent, but a walk passed the picture frames she had set up so long ago brings tears to my eyes.

But holy crap, that was ONE half of a closet and I have easily 2 garbage bag worth of stuff.  And I haven’t even empty out the drawers yet.  The other 2 closets are packed the same way.  Pueng has a lot of work ahead of her, bringing all of that downstairs tomorrow morning before Aunty Sida gets here.  Me and my dearest Aunty are so going to have fun swimming out of my mom’s clothes tomorrow!

See what I mean right there?  We are moving on along here.  And we are missing her in all sorts of different ways.

My dad told me he misses mom most in the morning for some reason, not in the evening when he used to visit her.  I told him it’s because now there is nobody to push him to get ready and go out the door on time.  And while I’m here, I’m the one doing that job.  I caught myself sounding exactly like my mother this morning as we were late getting out the door to go to his doctor’s appointment.

That Mack truck of bricks will probably come to dad the day after I leave.  And probably going to hit Pueng too.

It seems my presence here is just another built in step to ease people’s pain.  I just stepped in to fill the void left by mom right now at our house.

But once I’m gone, I wonder how this place would be like.  And how empty I will feel being all the way over there.

*

Oh, and I just realized that I haven’t written about how mom passed away yet.  That’ll be later.  Right now, I’m going to upload a few more pictures to the album and head home to bed.  Good night, y’all.

Well, I posted this same thing a few other places already so I’m not going to do it again. But just keeping you guys on the loop here.

August 12 was Thailand’s mother’s day and the Queen’s birthday. From what I know of mom’s conditions, I didn’t call her but I call home and talked to my dad.

“It was right for you to call here,” dad said. “She’s no longer ‘here’ with us.

But your mother’s day card got her in the middle of the week though. I showed it to her and she did look at it. I think she got it.”

Mom apparently mentally checked out when she had blood infection a few days ago. Fever spikes and what not. Jaundice indeed is setting in. Her eyes are yellow and her face is slowly going the same way.

The final prognosis confirms my internet research on liver failure. If it’s the liver alone, we have about a month. But all the complications, infections and other things, we could be anywhere between now and then.

My dad further informs me that he and my brothers, knowing what my stand is on the issue as well, decided on DNR–do not resuscitate–order. If she goes, she goes. No CPR. No “Clear!” No tubes. No putting her on machines to wait for me to get there. None of that.

If she goes, she goes.

And it’s between now and four weeks from now.

It was a miracle I could concentrate at work today. It’ll be more of a struggle as the days go by, but I have so much to accomplish just in case I have to run out the door. At least I’m occupied.

As for now, I want to go to sleep. And boy oh boy do I want that sleep. I want to just get there and stay there until I have to go home.

Like Olaina and Justin went through a few months ago, the death watch has begun for my family.