A beautiful Monday morning, with rain of course. Cool
breeze. Not sure how Aizat’s wife is doing, but pray that she is well. She had
been admitted to the hospital and quarantine for 5 days for suspected H1N1.
Yesterday night was sad. I came back from PJ with mom and
Connie from sending the church guitar for repair and to pick up the book Connie
had ordered from MPH. All I (and we) can hear while reaching the door gate is
my granma’s screeching and loud voice with a pinch of sob in her voice. She was
scolding my father, as she was alone at home and she wanted to talk to someone.
But my father didn’t answer her at all.
I do not the history behind the story. Why had this
happened? What has my father done that my granma dislike (I hate to use the
word hated) my father so much. And why my father dislike my grandma so much.
But props to my father. I would have expected otherwise. He kept his cool and
not a word came out from him. It must has been hard for him. Because I see me
in him. Man of little voice. Have patience. But at times just do not know what
to do. The best is being quiet.
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