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2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008 and all years to come 
Mood:
don't askTopic: Everyday life (weirdness)
Last night there was another crisis. After another one of her futile attempts to mellow me up she broke down and cried. Next thing I know she’s gone down, and a minute later she comes back to the room, turns on the light and stands there with a small knife, the kind you use to peel your apples (or any random similar fruit). She gives me the suicide thingy, asks me to tell her how to slide her wrist, cause she “can’t live without me”. Gita wakes up as well, but fortunately she is still a bit sleepy. I pull wheeping Wiwik out of the bed room, hissing to her to go down the stairs. Then I go back to the bedroom. Don’t worry sweetheart, mommy is crying cause she hurt herself when she just slipped on the stairs, just go and sleep first sweety.Subsequently I go down to deal with matters there. I try to muffle her sobbing so Gita won’t hear, but eventually I put an end to it. Listen, I tell her while I firmly hold her face. Do you realise that just now you were standing there with that knife, claiming you want to kill yourself, in front of a little girl that will turn 6 tomorrow. I point out that she has a major responsibility on her hands. A responsibility that neither ex-hubby or I didn’t want, but rather couldn’t have cause she claimed her rights as a mother. A responsibility where handling knifes and talking suicide don’t fit in. If you ever, ever, cause our child a major trauma by doing similar things, I will never forgive you. And as far as things between us are concerned, let me tell you one more last time that the only connection between us is that you’re the mother of our child, and nothing more than that. That means you don’t need to expect anything from me and you know very well the reason being that half a year ago you blew 6th chance in line in your traditional cruel ways. Having said all that I manage to settle things down.The next morning, when one child after another appear, the house slowly turns into a zoo. Some parents stay around for the first 30 minutes, and I’m subsequently introduced as either “a friend from Malaysia” or indeed as Gita’s father. MMhhh that’ll raise some confusion. Later that afternoon we leave to attend a service in a kind of an Indonesian church. The people there, I must say, are indeed a truly warm and loving kind of people. The funny thing is that without any prior information, one of the church leaders who comes up to us, directly assumes I’m Gita’s father and his first remark is how remarkably her face resembles mine. My next surprise comes when the service actually starts. Everything is in Indonesian, but I can understand it very well. They speak about going about in life in honesty and sincerity, and I can see how Wiwik is so totally absorbed in the prayers and the songs, up to the point where tears roll down her face. It puzzles me enormously how she can be so devoted, while to me she is, in daily life, still so far away from the true meaning of her religion, in view of her failure to practice things such as honesty and sincerity towards the people who try to be good to her.
Posted by RonRon
at 22:01
Updated: Saturday, 7 June 2008 00:34
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Updated: Saturday, 7 June 2008 00:34
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