Ironic. Days like these, I don't feel young at all. Childhood might as well have been a million years ago.
We're bringing Daddy to the hospital, yet again. He hass contracted a fever and is now hiccuping uncontrollably. The last time this happened, his heart had water in it. Mummy's not feeling well enough to take care of him since she herself had been having difficulty walking and going around with her bad heart.
I didn't know life could be this .... challenging.
Thing is, I suspect this is my fault. During one of those potent nights when I was an adolescent, when no one knows what god might be listening, I remember wishing for a life made un-boring. I was struck with ennui -- the stable, predictable days I've been living wasn't providing me much fodder for real writing.
And just like magic, Daddy quit his job, both parents got sick (which has never quite ended since then), and everything in my life went topsy turvy.
Hmmm... I hear very adult minds out there proclaiming my statements illogical, childish, and overlaced with magical, superstitious thinking. Don't worry, my adult brain says I'm being silly too. But the child that my soul is keeps saying, here's a lesson for being careful what you wish for.
I only ask for one more potent night, to make a wish again. I will not ask to reverse my former wish. A boring life would kill me now if it comes around again. Everyone's got their problems, and I, who unfortunately grew up with the lot of them, must also deal. All I wish for now is the capacity to grow further and to persevere.
All I wish for now is the rock solid fortitude of mountains. The silent strength of stones.