Growing Old

Something within tells me I'm about to encounter one of the biggest crossroads of my life. I know not what, I know not when, only that it is soon, and it will come.

I've been trying to fight the voices around me, they no longer tell me that I cannot make it any longer, they've been trying to make me feel guilty. Am I to feel guilty for evil thoughts that seep through my head and into my conscience? Am I to feel like a sinner when my thoughts go haywire?

There are things I crave for, things that make me vulnerable. As the days go by, I'm no longer the actor, I've become the reaction. I'm beginning to shun small talk, even conversations with friends. It's terrible that nothing excites me any more. I don't look forward to the future, when I will grow up and grow old.

I walked my grandma back to her place after the toilet renovations were over. 5 years ago, the time taken to walk from my house to hers was only 5 minutes, now it's nearly 45 minutes. I feel her feeble hand grasp mine, occasionally letting go. Her body is filled with perspiration, even though she had taken a bath at my place. She can't speak anymore, but we all know she still likes sweet desserts, and have provided her maid with enough money to get her towhuey from the hawker center downstairs.

But as we were walking home, a fear gripped me. I don't want to grow old. If being old means being led by the hand, being fed, being bathed, being treated like a child...

Suddenly, the future doesn't look so bright any more.



But I do know one thing. If the future doesn't come, then I might never have the chance to see you and hold you in my arms.



Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come. -David (Psalms 71:18)