Why I Don’t Like PDA

It was Christmas dinner with my brother’s extended family.  He somehow managed to stand next to me while I was chatting away.  I looked at him and nodded.  A moment later, there was a discreet nudge at my knee.  I looked at him again to see if this was really happening.  And it was.  We stood there, our bodies in contact.  No one in the room seemed to notice this PDA.  I decided to raise the stakes and moved my hands slowly up and down his back.  He looked at me and we connected. 

He must have sat at the other table during dinner. No one  seemed to notice us, if they did, they were probably too stunned or polite to say anything.  After dinner and while the tables were being cleared, everybody dispersed.  He sat down beside me and lowered his head to my knee, nudging ever closer to my ahem…  His curly hair was soft to touch.  After a few more minutes of this, he went away again.  I was hard  mesmerized.

Dessert was cake and ice cream.  But it had an odd smell.  Then I realized what that smell was.  It was his scent.  I could smell it each time I raised the fork to my mouth.  It was all over my hands and sleeve.  Dog breath.  Stupid dog –  you some breath mints if you’re going to do anything with your mouth.  After I got home, I could smell that dog all over my jeans and shirt.  I stripped off all my clothes and threw it into the washing machine.  From now on, no more PDA with dogs. 





Healthy Procrastination

I decided to clean my room and then I figured I should clean my condo.  It’s a thankless job and I hate cleaning.  But it’s just to messy.  I got sick of cleaning so I decided to workout instead.  I went to the small gym in my condo.  It was a brief workout.  My muscles trembled, my lungs burned, my head started to spin, my butt started to quiver and my heart started to pump like crazy.  While doing a set of squats, I ripped my boxers.   

At the gym, I could see how badly I got out of shape.  I should eat properly too.  Maybe I’ll make some curry chickpeas w/ veggies and brown rice. 

Now I’m too tired to shower.  I stink from the sweat.  My arms are too tired to type.  If 20 hot naked Asian guys show up, I would be too tired to do anything.  But if they do show up, maybe I can get them to finish cleaning my condo.

Au Revoir

I held his hands and told him what an awesome dad he was.  I thought he moved his fingers a bit.  I watched as his breath grew shallower and slower.  I yelled for my siblings to come to the room.  We watched him take his final breath and said our goodbyes.  Just moments before I thought I could sense my mom but maybe it was my imagination.  He wasn’t in pain or discomfort.  We made sure the there were enough meds.  He had his last rites just hours before.  Our house is just a modest home but to him, it was his castle.  He loved it and died there. 

Goodbye dad, I love you.  We’ll miss you.  Give mom a hug from all of us.  I’m happy that you’re with her now and free of the pain and suffering from your illness. 

Looking for Minor Victories


It’s been awhile since I’ve posted anything.  It’s partly because I don’t really have anything good to write about.

These past few years, the long, dark days of winter have dampened my mood.  I’ve also gotten way out of shape.  When I’m stressed, I tend to eat more.  When I’m at my dad’s place, I snack like crazy.  It doesn’t help that my sister leaves a lot of junk food around.  Dinners there are usually take out food.  No one really has time to cook.  I downloaded a fitness app only to find out how far out of shape I’m in.  I don’t sleep enough.  I know I’ll pay dearly for this.

My dad’s health is declining rapidly.  We used to celebrate minor victories.  He ate well.  He slept well.  He had a bowel movement.  There wasn’t any pain.  It’s hard to find those minor victories now.  I stayed over the other night.  I told my sister to go to bed and she did around 1 AM.  My dad called out frequently when he is asleep – not deep sleep.  I had to keep checking to see if he was really calling out or just talking in his sleep.  He did wake up a couple of times and I gave him some water.  I would hold his hands to give him some assurance and told him to rest and go back to sleep.  I think the hardest part is watching him grimacing in pain when he is being changed.  I finally got to nap for an hour around 4.  My sister woke up a few times to check.  She eventually got up around 5.  It’s like this for her every night.  I left the house just as the rush hour started.  When I got home, I fueled myself with caffeine to get me through the day.   My brother came over later that day with food.

Is this heroic? No.  I’m just doing my bit to help.  I have no idea how previous generations handled all of this.  How do the people living around the poverty line manage with elder care and dementia?

Writing is one of the few things that keep me sane.  I wish I had more time for this.