The Verge of Gratitude

Yesterday was a blur. As I wake up today, I can’t decide if it was a good day or a bad one. Now that I feel better, I suppose I’ll just remember it as fine. Actually, it was great, but I wasn’t feeling well. (I still am unwell, and am on medical leave while writing this.) My colleague, Sarah, gave me paracetamol in the afternoon after confirming that my skin was warmer than usual.

Fever Drama

During my college years, I loved getting my friends to check if I was sick so I could skip classes, perhaps. Most of the time, I wasn’t actually sick. Syarifah, who spent the most time with me, knew this well. “She gets a fever every day,” she’d say to others, half-jokingly, while placing a hand on my forehead. I was much more dramatic back then compared to now.

H’s Pre-Birthday

Yesterday, however, I was genuinely sick, not just pretending. I felt even worse just before H’s birthday eve celebration. We still managed to have dinner and cake at Secret Recipe at Wangsa Walk Mall after getting a balloon each. I bought a pink birthday hat for H, hoping she would feel extra special. The kids were in their dirty after-school clothes—H with her yellow hijab and A in soiled white school shoes.

Little Things That Matter

The kids had a good time, and everyone was happy. I remember H’s excitement as she unwrapped the gift I picked for her from Toys “R” Us.

“Oh my dod menann aaah annah tute wat es dis,” almost uncontrollably.

(Oh my God mainan* aaah Hannah suka* what is this?)

A, meanwhile, was impatiently trying to help her see what was inside. We had their father on a video call to witness her blowing out the candles.

Love, a Beautiful Chaos

It wasn’t perfect, but I had a few moments of bliss before the highlight of the event ended. The kids started running around the restaurant, and I worried we were disturbing other diners. I didn’t have the energy to control them and rehearsed responses in my mind if someone reacted to their behavior. Thankfully, no one did. In fact, the restaurant manager wished H a happy birthday and tried to make conversation with her. I felt relieved and tried to let go of my motherly anxiety. The kids were happy. We were all happy. I chanted that mantra in my head to calm myself, even though deep down, I was just tired and ready to burst.

Gratitude Is the Drug

We can never expect life to go perfectly as planned, yet we often harbour unrealistic assumptions or expectations. Disappointment and sadness follow when reality doesn’t meet these expectations. Lowering our expectations and embracing reality is not an overnight skill. In times like these, I find gratitude essential. Gratitude is the drug; it makes us want to be more grateful because of the happiness it brings. As I mentioned in a previous post, positive affirmations attract more positivity into our lives.

I am not perfect, and I never will be. My health isn’t perfect. The kids aren’t perfect—they are good kids but can be little tornadoes. Their daddy isn’t perfect either. The birthday dinner wasn’t perfect. This blog post isn’t perfect. But every moment in our life is beautiful and worthwhile to appreciate.

Sometimes, we are placed on the edge of gratitude and stress, teetering between contentment and discontentment. It’s okay; we are only human. We get weak and sick sometimes. But we get back up, have faith, and continue to live the most beautiful life we can.

*Mainan = toys, suka = likes