K is for Kelly

I never really liked attending funerals.

I don't know why but attending one makes me take a long, hard look at my life and make me face up to my feelings that I've suppressed deep down inside.

Today, I attended my sis's god-grandpa's wake. We paid our respects and went by his coffin and take a look. It felt so unreal. He didn't even look real anymore, it's as if it's a wax figure of him lying in the coffin. I know he has been embalmed but... I don't remember grandpa ever looking like that.

I feel scared. How many more decades do I have with my parents (mainly my mum) around? When their time has come, will I be ready to let them go? These thoughts make me feel vulnerable, scared and helpless because I can do nothing to make time stop. I've always felt like I'm their little girl eternally, and I've never really grown up. When I see stray strands of grey-white hair slowly flourishing on my mum's head, I get worried. I only know what I can do now is to spend more time with them, let go of any resentment I have of them and build a close relationship. I don't want to regret that I didn't spend enough time with them and have very little knowledge about their lives when the time comes...

What am I doing with my time now? What's my life's purpose? Am I living it to the fullest? Or am I just another boat sailing in the sea with no destination in sight and letting the wind in the sail take me wherever it takes me?

Excuse me while I am in deep thoughts... Superficial and frivolous entries will come when I'm feeling like myself again.