death by paper cut

{July 28, 2006}   joy luck club

initial rant:
i have a problem communicating my needs. i hate having to ask for help, or to ask to be noticed. if you see me, you see me and know what i’m struggling with, what i might need a hand with. You don’t need to ask if i’m ok, or if i need any help. dispense with the formalities and just get on your knees to scrub along side with me. if you don’t see me, you just don’t see me. its intuitive, its obvious, can’t you see?

after dwelling in own self-pity, i realised that it was in fact self-pity which i once observed in my own mother. my mom has 5 other siblings – 3 brothers & 2 sisters. my grandma lives with us. other than the fact that she needs constant medication and check-ups at the specialist, she is general good health and spirits. these medical check-ups at the specialist however cost quite a bit and it irates me that my uncles do not share the financial burden. they claim that they are in financial difficulties, even after purchasing a new car and returning from a holiday. even if they are in financial difficulties, its not a good enough excuse, how much damage can a hundred or two dollars a month do to these middle-income earners at CPF maturity?

i asked my mom why she doesn’t insist that they contribute, and her reply was that if they sincerely cared, they would have voluntarily made the contribution and commitment, there isn’t a need to ask. so she continues to make do with what she has and continues to bear and grit with it.


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