I was 24 when I lost my mother. lost isnt exactly the most appropriate word. its more of like she was taken away from me. to tell the truth, I have yet to come to terms with the fact that she's no longer with me, alive and breathing. 

she was always the only one I could speak to in my family. all her scoldings and reprimands and tough love always had a touch of softness with it. she was the only one that ever mattered to me. I had all these great and fabulous dreams of me coming good and bringing her to places she wanted to go, letting her enjoy her later life, taking care of her just as she did for me. and now, all these are just that, dreams. nothing more. 

she was a simple housewife for almost all of her married years, sacrificing her lot to take care of us. later on, she even took on a job as a cleaner to help with the household when times went bad. she was only starting to enjoy life in the sense of having friends, doing stuff she wanted to do, when she was taken away. and all this while, I was buried in my work. when I left for work, she's already left the house. when I get back, she's sleeping. 

one reads in the news, sees the television on reports on how Singapore's healthcare is world class. bull shit, thats what I say. it is so fucking world class that it couldnt even save my mom. its not like she's got some terminal disease or stuff like that. its just some fucking pneumonia. thats the problem, just some pneumonia, no rush about it. fuck the healthcare system. 

end of it all, fuck me. the last few weeks of her life, and her son didnt even have the time for her.