When she was bedridden and could no longer speak, he went to her bedside every night. He read to her, told her about what he has been up to that day and read her her favourite poems.
I’m sure he did not think it was reporting to her. But it came from within, a genuine way of showing that he really wanted to share his life with her, and only she shall be the witness of his life, through the many public moments and the private ones.
I think that’s what makes a relationship work. Each person knows the other so well because they allow each other to do so, not giving any excuse for misunderstandings.
While watching a tribute to her on TV, there was a moment that I felt defined their relationship in that 10 seconds. Halfway through an interview with the media, Mrs Lee stood up and (I think that’s what it was) using a piece of post-it or paper, was trying to wipe Mr Lee’s perspiration off his forehead. He wasn’t ashamed of her, and he wasn’t angry. Instead, he smiled and said “she’s my director” when she was done.
Seeing them like that gives me hope that you can still find your soul mate. But at the same time, I fear. Because more often than not, you hope too much and it will never come true. And I shall be the only one left disappointed and bitter.
But, this is not about me. I salute her – for her strength, for her love. I think she’s every woman. And I do wish to grow up like her.
_____________________ on other thoughts i had yesterday….
Sometimes when things get hard, you just want to forget them. I try so hard not to think about things that have been difficult for me and obsess myself with finding new happier memories just so I can push those unhappy ones deeper within myself and hopefully never ever re-opening that box of horror. But just can’t wait for the day that I can be OK enough to just live with it. Because as they say what doesn’t kill you make you stronger. I wish I can live my life with both the happy and unhappy moments and still be able to smile and know that it’s OK.
But right now, I’m not there yet. Right now, I still want to bury them so deep that no one will ever know I even cried before. (although that’s really hard to achieve).
Who am I kidding? Every little thing can remind me of things / people that I’d rather not remember. It’ll be nice to have someone to hold my hand through these. Thankfully, I have my sister, my best friend.
but tomorrow, i’m running away.
