Die a thousand deaths, live a thousand joy

Martin Jalleh once told us parents that by virtue of us being parents, heaven is a confirmed ticket. You see, in order for us Christians to be taken to heaven, we need to die. And as parents, we have to die again and again. I am not talking about the deaths determined by whether our heart is beating or we are breathing.

It is about the self sacrifices we had to put up with. How we have to place ourselves second when it comes to our children. Martin gave a very simple example. Let’s say he is eating with his son. And if his son eyes the piece of steak belonging to Martin, he would, as a father gave it to his son although he wanted to have it himself.

We parents know what it is like, right? That we have to detach our own needs and wants and give and give and give. Just a while ago, my little boy asked me why I gave birth to him last. I joked that he was a slow swimmer so he arrived last. He gave a pout and said, “No….you don’t love me, so that’s why you take so long to born me.” You can never win a six years old in argument so I decided to let him has his ways.

That makes me think, though. He does have a point. The one born earlier already had more years of being loved. So, it does make the one who was loved less in terms of numbers of years. less loved. Get what I mean? Do we love someone more simply because we love for a longer time? Or does love have the same intensity, regardless of time?

Today, I have a few minutes to spare before I picked my son. So, I went to our chapel to have a few minutes of quiet reflections. I sat there, staring at Christ on the cross. I like the dying Christ than the resurrected Christ in our cathedral. The one in the chapel is a dying Christ, with His arms spread wide and nailed to the cross. The head hung low and the ribs jutting out. It spells agony, pain, trouble, desperation, helplessness, weakness and more.

So, I was talking to my imaginary friend, Christ on the cross. Why lah, life has to be so bleh sometimes. I am not talking about my own but generally, for all of us. And the wooden statue explains it. Life is like that. There is only one way about it, i.e. to keep living.

Oh the photos…am I distracting you with profound thoughts and bimbo pics? I do? I hope so. Because life is only worth living if we put ourselves first. Of course, life is about serving. But no one can give unless they have enough to give.

For moms like us, I guess, we need to keep ourselves really happy before we can actually give. So, yes, that clears my guilt trip. I have plenty of make-up, skincare, accessories and stuffs that I don’t really need. They make me happy. And when I am happy, I make my kids happy.

I have so many pairs of earrings, I dare not count them anymore.

My still work-in-progress, yet to find a nice computer table for my laptop working corner.

You know what, moms? Some of the most spirited, happy, contented, fun, joyful women I met are those who have lots of make-up, earrings, clothes, shoes and handbags. For example, the Auntie S I adore has matching clothes, shoes and accessories all the time. She is twice my age but she lives life to the max.

Today, I figure….Life is only worth living when you live it fully. Wonderful what 20 minutes of quiet reflections can do for the soul.