I checked my budget, my savings and found that I had emptied every penny out of my pocket. I was penniless. Renovating the house was not an option. So, against the advice of everybody who loved me, I stubbornly shifted in. Living in denial, I kept telling myself, “Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine. You just have to save up and renovate it bit by bit,”
“I love this place. I can live with it.” I told myself, constantly repeating it like a mantra in my head.
As I lied to myself, as with everybody else, I never once set foot into any of the rooms because the moment I stepped onto the parquet, I could feel the creepy crawlies climbing up the skin of my neck. In fact, I had to wear slippers around my own house because every cupboard, every window, had a hole in it, screaming, “Termites! Termites! Scram! Scram! Scram!”
My mom almost cried her heart out when she saw what a pathetic state I was living in. Broken windows, broken tiles, broken pots, and broken window panes. All leading towards only two things- broken home and broken hopes.
In any culture, I believe, everybody wants things to be perfect. If it’s not, we’ll always want to fix it and make it right. Restoring things to its original condition, is somehow within the core of our human nature. And well, what can I say about mothers? No matter how much we hurt them, they still treat us with such delicate care, patiently waiting for us to regain our conscience, searching for our own true selves.
So, despite my shouts and protests, my mom put her foot down. “Jean! Renovate the house. Don’t worry about the money. Let’s use the savings that I have for now.” And without waiting for my answer, she immediately set about contacting contractors to provide the quotation for the full set of renovation works specified.
Me, on the other hand, being as stubborn as a mule, protested vehemently. Refusing to accept reality. Until today, I strongly believe in financing all renovation works from my source of funds, even if it meant digging deep into my pocket. I dislike the idea that I was depending on my parents or their handouts. If I am able to do it, I feel a great sense of achievement.
But, since we live in an Asian society, parents always have the last say. Ultimately, I gave in. I moved out of my house once again and stayed with my aunt and her family for five weeks!
“I love this place. I can live with it.” I told myself, constantly repeating it like a mantra in my head.
As I lied to myself, as with everybody else, I never once set foot into any of the rooms because the moment I stepped onto the parquet, I could feel the creepy crawlies climbing up the skin of my neck. In fact, I had to wear slippers around my own house because every cupboard, every window, had a hole in it, screaming, “Termites! Termites! Scram! Scram! Scram!”
My mom almost cried her heart out when she saw what a pathetic state I was living in. Broken windows, broken tiles, broken pots, and broken window panes. All leading towards only two things- broken home and broken hopes.
In any culture, I believe, everybody wants things to be perfect. If it’s not, we’ll always want to fix it and make it right. Restoring things to its original condition, is somehow within the core of our human nature. And well, what can I say about mothers? No matter how much we hurt them, they still treat us with such delicate care, patiently waiting for us to regain our conscience, searching for our own true selves.
So, despite my shouts and protests, my mom put her foot down. “Jean! Renovate the house. Don’t worry about the money. Let’s use the savings that I have for now.” And without waiting for my answer, she immediately set about contacting contractors to provide the quotation for the full set of renovation works specified.
Me, on the other hand, being as stubborn as a mule, protested vehemently. Refusing to accept reality. Until today, I strongly believe in financing all renovation works from my source of funds, even if it meant digging deep into my pocket. I dislike the idea that I was depending on my parents or their handouts. If I am able to do it, I feel a great sense of achievement.
But, since we live in an Asian society, parents always have the last say. Ultimately, I gave in. I moved out of my house once again and stayed with my aunt and her family for five weeks!
No comments:
Post a Comment