present hope

On Saturday I took my mom to the hospital for a minor hand surgery. To kill time, I took Murakami and Claiborne/Haw with me and headed for some coffee. My dad was outstation and called several times to check. I finished my caffè latte, several chapters and more short stories. More people filled in, every greeting of good morning turned into good afternoon. My dad called five times and I was still waiting.

I picked her up hours later. It was a really minor surgery, she said.

The next day, I found myself waiting for the vet to come take a look at Mia (my dog). She hadn’t touch her breakfast/dinner and she was shivering. The vet dispensed some fever medication and painkillers. He also took a blood sample from her. He told me to wait for his call to confirm what’s going on.

It started to rain and Mia was getting restless. She hates the rain. So we sat in the porch together. When it thundered, she got up and walked in circles only to resign under my bench again. The vet finally called to say that he may have detected an early stage of pyometra. Things are uncertain at this point, but we still had to wait until the rain is over, wait for the calm.

This morning she threw up a piece of mushroom stem. I don’t know how or where it came from.

I’m still waiting.

It’s easy to understand/see that waiting is the fuzzy period between now and later. Like the end of a television transmission, it’s all static until dawn. But I think my waiting is between now and now. I’m surprised by hope.



  1. “waiting is the fuzzy period between now and later”.

    nicely put. but what do u mean “between now and now”?. also, which Murakami did you bring?

  2. i think that hope isn’t necessarily about the future, but it also speaks about the present. hope gives me strength to live in the present, in the now. so my waiting isn’t about hoping for something good to happen tomorrow, but knowing that good happens now. my dog is still with me albeit a little unlike herself. this is her now, with me. (sorry if it makes no sense to you…)
    i brought murakami’s blind willow, sleeping woman.

  3. in that case. hoping in the now makes perfect sense. i hope(in the now) ur dog will be herself again.

    murakami is weird sometimes. but a nice kind of weird i guess. how’d u find urs?

  4. thanks :)
    i like his short stories… blind willow, sleeping woman has a good collection of them.

  5. sakatsu

    hi… just a note while i’m visiting your blog. nice photos; i like the old school feel and i like what captivates your eye. may be one day i will need such talented eye.

  6. Was watching yr sentul clip. Makes me miss M’sia la…*sobs* a video strip on state college would look like college, nice houses (with trees in between), followed by forest & cornfields and hills and forest intersperse with cornfields and hills… chipmunks and squirrels would pop out frequently. :)
    I can’t believe i’m saying this, but i miss the city ! the skyscrapers, the activities, people, shopping…

  7. exactly the same impression i got when i saw it el’z! nice one rachel. somehow the vid’s gone now.

  8. chihui: sorry i haven’t had the time to reply your email(s)! you should go visit new york and drop by stinky chinatown… exit the subway station and you’d be greeted with pirated dvd vendors. very kuala lumpur :)

    nik amir: thanks. the video is still there :)

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