Mending broken ties

Coincidentally, today’s prompt has been a recurring conversation at my place the past couple of weeks. Mom has been whispering secrets in my ear every evening, haha. Secrets to her do not mean secrets to me. It is funny, but I have an amazing ability to not break into laughter as she tells me old stories that I knew ages ago. πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ I’m a very good keeper, but had to throw something into the conversation in return, so I whispered some things back. Tsk, moments later, I hear her whispering to my other aunt over the phone, “so many of them still keep in contact with her.” Ah well, that so explains why she’s the last to hear secrets. πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€

Yups, we were just on the phone this morning, arranging my trip to a certain bigger island to just chill, do my hair, my brows, enjoy some massage, some trekking, and lots of bubble tea and endless flow of fried chicken. Yups, and I was messaging her son to sort out my logistics issues of which simcard to use and which airlines to fly. Shrugs. Ironically, my mom made me meet her other son over the weekend when he came over to visit the double Os (Oliver and Oscar), saying that us siblings hardly meet. It is rather sweet, because my cousins lived with us when young, so my mom has always considered them my siblings rather than just cousins. The truth (she does not realise?) is, some ties don’t get strained, especially innocent guileless ones. My sis and I still “take care” of them, but now in a different way from how we did when they were “little”.

The feud lies in the generation before ours. We watched, we saw, we felt, but I doubt we ever truly understood. Maybe we understood from their perspectives, but there was definitely a higher order that everyone is just slowly starting to uncover only now. Hence all the recent whispers about mendingΒ brokenΒ ties. As kids, we did not judge. Yet, as kids, we did not understand, and all these subconsciously affect each and everyone of us in the way we have to tenderly tiptoe the world today.

What I learnt from these decades is that ultimately, there is Justice, and there is Truth. Maybe sometimes it just takes darn long to come to light.

Oh. And also that my mom’s really funny. Or maybe she is just guileless in a different kind of way. πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€

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