Hi all,

I wrote my first blog in August with the intention of describing how "almost everything about my life has changed in the last five years."  But I got stuck on the work theme, which actually wasn't all that evident after I re-read my entries.

Plus, I wasn't able to keep to my self-imposed schedule for writing my blog: an ambitious bi-monthly cycle is what I had in mind. That obviously didn't work out.

Having said that, I will say that everything that changed in my life was/is: work, home, eating, responsibilities, free time, friends, how I perceive and deal with the elderly and the sick, and me.

Work now is not only a means to earn money but also a source of personal satisfaction; home is where I sleep, work and eat; eating is something I do out of necessity; responsibilities are now sometimes more than I feel I can handle because they are 90% parental; free time is precious; friends are those who can still bear to listen to me talk about my parents, who've stuck by me for better and for worse over the last five years, and who can empathize with what I'm going through; the elderly are to be cherished and listened to - we can learn so much from them; the sick are to be cared for with love, empathy and patience.

I am not the same person I was five years ago. Then, I was single, independent, free to do what I wanted when I wanted. Today, I am responsible for my mother and my father (legally and emotionally), they depend on me, and my thoughts and actions revolve around them. Their needs come first, although there are days when I want to be selfish and think only of me. Those are the days when I will most likely get a phone call saying my dad fell or my mum threw up three times. So thoughts of me fly out the window and I go back into caregiver mode.

My salvation are sleep and books. They are my way to retreat from the realities of this world. I also think it's how I've maintained my sanity.

Today, my father sits more than he walks, naps often, sometimes feeds himself, sometimes gets fed by the sitter, doesn't like to wear his denture, has only six teeth left (and I'm doing everything I can to ensure those teeth stay in!), has a private sitter eight hours every day to look after his needs, and most times doesn't react when a family member comes to visit: that could be my mother, me or my oldest brother. My other brother and sister visit once, maybe twice a year. They spend lots of time with my dad when then come, but are not sure either whether he recognizes them. My sister figures he might smile at her only because he thinks she's me, since we look so much alike (our voices, especially, are nearly identical).

My mum is the cat with nine lives. I think she has about five left. Whenever she falls, literally or figuratively, she will get up again. She is optimistic, if she thinks she's failing at something, she will try and try again, she is brave, she is a fighter. She's my hero.

Today, my life is theirs. I know that they devoted their lives to us from the time we were born. It's "pay-it-back" time now, as far as I'm concerned. It's not always easy -- I get frustrated, depressed, angry, fed up, wish to escape to a deserted island for six months or more. But as long as they are living and breathing, I will do what I can to make their lives pleasant, pain-free, and worth living.