I’m currently at a loss for words to press (get it?) and I’m impossibly lethargic today, of all days. Maybe cos words lead to conversations which then lead to questions that I can’t or don’t want to answer, so let’s just leave it at that. Had enough of them during Eid, the famous one being “why don’t you want to have kids?“; I swear that topic came up six times in a span of two houses. Cue my mom swooping in to announce for everyone to record down the time and date that I state my reason, because in her words, “we’ll see who’s the one who pops out with the most children and who comes calling me for help.”
No, mother, I beg to differ. At most, I’ll just adopt, but most chances are I’ll be the first of your daughters to have her tubes tied.
But maternal issues aside, Eid was extremely bleak this year as expected. Starting it with a hangover was already the wrong step to begin with; that’s 7 weeks of sobriety down the drain which I think was quite the achievement (the 7 weeks I mean) hey? Broke a decade worth’s of traditions too, and we only went to two houses instead of the usual three.
So sue me if I reiterate my growing dread of this period of supposed celebration. I’m not a kid anymore; there are no green packets to look forward to. My palate disagrees with local food, and it didn’t help that both houses served the same dishes.
Should I ever hold an open house during Eid in the future, I will make sure my guests are served sushi. Or sashimi. Or maybe even escargot cos they’re really nice once you get past the squishy part.
Even the place I used to look forward going to has lost it’s spirit. The only good thing about this Eid was the short catching up I had with the cousins I grew up with, and then some in-laws. Dug out old family secrets, confessed the recent going-ons.
I missed her this Eid. I’ve missed her each year.
I still miss her everyday.