A Gentle Wake-Up Call

Yesterday was a very eventful day for my parents and me.

The day started as usual, with Mum and me attending our personal training session at the gym. It was our 20th and final session. I thoroughly enjoyed every workout, although "enjoy" doesn't mean it was easy! Every session was physically demanding and often painful, requiring plenty of determination. Looking back now, I can genuinely feel how much stronger I've become. Exercises that once felt impossible or extremely difficult have become so much easier. That's a really rewarding feeling. 💪

Even though our personal training has ended, Mum and I will continue going to the gym to enjoy the unlimited group classes, including Zumba, yoga and strength training.

After the gym, we drove to Falim to meet Dad's siblings, who had come to Ipoh for lunch. Before we left, I offered to drive because it was quite a long journey, about 40 minutes. But Dad insisted on driving. I can never win that argument, so I let him.

We had a wonderful lunch together with my aunts and uncles. The food was delicious, but even better was the chance to catch up and spend time with everyone.

After lunch, I once again offered to drive home, but Dad refused. By the time we reached Ipoh, it had started raining and the roads were slippery.

To be honest, whenever Dad drives nowadays, my anxiety level shoots up. At 83 years old, his eyesight, reflexes and judgement are understandably not what they used to be. Sitting in the passenger seat, I often find myself stepping on an imaginary brake with cold sweat or instinctively telling him to slow down, brake, or pull back to the left.

As we reached Ipoh Garden, it was still raining. Suddenly I felt the car was moving too quickly. I told Dad to brake... but it was too late.

He couldn't stop in time and our SUV bumped into the back of a Honda hatchback.

The Honda's rear bumper was dented, while, quite unbelievably, Dad's SUV escaped without a single dent or scratch.

Dad immediately got out to speak to the other driver. For a split second, I thought he was comedian Harith Iskandar because he looked so much like him! 😄

The gentleman, who happened to be Indian, was incredibly polite, calm and understanding. There was no shouting, no anger and no hostility. Later, I spoke to him over the phone, and he was just as pleasant. I felt so terribly sorry that we had caused him so much inconvenience.

After that, we headed to the police station to lodge a report for the insurance claim. Unfortunately, the reporting system went down, so we waited nearly two hours before the report could finally be printed.

After discussing the pros and cons of paying for the repairs ourselves versus making an insurance claim, we decided to claim the insurance. This means Dad will lose his No Claim Bonus (NCB) and will also have to pay a RM300 traffic summons for causing the accident.

It was a stressful and traumatic day for all of us, but I kept reminding myself of one important thing: it could have been so much worse.

I'm deeply grateful that no one was injured. I'm also thankful that I was there to help my parents with the police report, liaise with the insurance company and communicate with the workshop.

What a day it was! Life can change in the blink of an eye, and moments like these remind me that the safety of everyone involved is far more important than damaged cars.

I told Dad that perhaps this accident was a gentle wake-up call from God. Thankfully, it wasn't a serious one, and no one was hurt. I said that from now on, whenever we're travelling a longer distance—whether into town or out of town—I hope he'll let me do the driving. At 83, there's no shame in letting your daughter take the wheel. In fact, it would give Mum and me much greater peace of mind. ❤️

Watch the video here >> https://www.facebook.com/reel/3592338244256473

Mum's Health Scare

Earlier this week, my mum gave us quite a health scare.

It started with her having a tummy ache that lasted for more than two weeks. Late last week, she went to the clinic for a checkup and had her stool tested. On Monday, she returned to see the doctor and the results showed there was blood in her stool.

Naturally, we were very worried. Dad quickly brought her to see her usual surgeon to arrange for a colonoscopy the very next day.

On Tuesday, the three of us went together for her procedure. It was a very anxious wait for all of us, because blood in the stool is never something to take lightly.

Thank God, after more than an hour of waiting, the doctor reassured us that the colonoscopy showed no signs of malignancy. We even got to see the video of her colon — it was clean and clear, with no lumps or obstruction. We were so relieved and thankful.

After the procedure, we went for a simple meal together. Mum had fish porridge, while Dad and I shared roast duck and roast pork wantan mee. Somehow, food always tastes extra comforting after a scare like this.

Moments like these remind us not to take our health for granted. I’m truly grateful for this piece of good news, and I pray we won’t have to go through another scare like this again — for my parents or for myself. 🙏

You can watch the full video on my Facebook page — do follow me there for more little updates and moments from our family life ❤️

Growing Old Together: The Small Changes I Have To Make

Living with parents in their 80s teaches you something no book or motivational quote ever can.

It’s not the big, dramatic sacrifices.

It’s the tiny, everyday adjustments that slowly become your new normal.

And strangely… you don’t even complain. You just adapt.

Food, for example, used to be simple. Now it’s thoughtful.

Vegetables are often steamed or cooked until very soft because my parents don’t have strong teeth anymore. Mum has gum problems too, so everything has to be gentle on the mouth. What used to feel “overcooked” now feels like comfort food.

Meat has to change as well. No tough cuts, no chewy bites. Everything needs to be tender, slow-cooked, or shredded. If it takes effort to chew, it’s off the menu. Cooking isn’t about taste first anymore — it’s about whether they can actually eat it comfortably.

Mum has chronic digestive and stomach issues, so heavy, spicy and sour food can make her miserable for hours. We rarely eat deep fried food these days. Our meals are lighter, simpler, plainer.

Funny enough, my taste buds changed along the way too.

Fruits don’t come sliced on a plate anymore for my parents. They go into the blender. Apples, pears, papayas — smoothie form is just easier. No biting, no chewing, no struggle. Just sip and enjoy. The house sounds like a juice bar every evening when mum makes her smoothie.

Even snacks are different. Hard nuts are out. Walnuts are in — the softest, easiest, and healthiest option for them. Grocery shopping has turned into a quiet calculation of “Can they chew this?”

But it’s not just food.

Safety becomes part of daily life.

Indoor slippers can’t be left lying around carelessly. One wrong step could mean a fall. The floor can’t be too wet after mopping. Even cleaning products have to be chosen carefully — no strong perfumes or harsh disinfectants because Mum’s asthma and lungs are sensitive. I have to stop using strong smelling cleaners downstairs as my parents are downstairs all the time now. I ‘stay’ upstairs and the nice-smelling cleaners are now for upstairs use.

Things I never used to think about… now I notice automatically.

And walking — something so simple — has changed too.

I used to walk very fast. Everywhere. I’m the type who zooms from point A to point B without thinking.

But when I’m with Mum, I slow down.

Way down..

She has to be extra careful with every step. She fell several times over the past few years and broke her right shoulder and wrist, injured her head and broke her teeth. Since then, every uneven tile, every curb, every staircase feels like a potential danger. I match her pace now, step by step, holding her hand, sometimes almost shuffling.

Dad, on the other hand, still walks surprisingly fast for his age — which somehow makes me even more nervous. I’m constantly watching him, worrying he might trip or lose balance. It’s funny how parenting quietly reverses like that. They used to worry about me falling. Now I’m the one worrying about them.

Even the ceiling fan has rules.

Speed one only.

Because of Mum’s chronic lung issues and asthma, strong wind makes her uncomfortable. Meanwhile, I’m sweating buckets thanks to perimenopause and our lovely 38°C weather. Some afternoons feel like I’m slow-roasting indoors.

But still… the fan stays at speed one.

Because her breathing matters more than my comfort.

All these little adjustments might sound restrictive to some people.

But to me, they feel like love in its most practical form.

Not grand gestures.

Just small, quiet choices every single day.

Cook softer. Walk slower. Mop carefully. Sweat a little more. Rearrange your life gently around the people who once rearranged theirs for you.

And truly — I have no complaints.

At their age, time feels different.

Their presence feels like a luxury.

Every morning I see them at the dining table, every simple meal we share, every small conversation — it all feels like bonus time. Extra chapters I didn’t know I would get.

I thank God for giving them such long lives.

And I silently hope for a few more years… maybe more birthdays, more slow walks, more speed-one fan days.

Moving back to my hometown to be with them is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Because one day, these inconveniences will disappear.

And when that day comes, I know I’ll miss every single one of them.

Simple and soft dishes that my 83-year old dad cooked for us: steamed okra, steamed red spinach, air-fried salmon with homegrown rosemary, chicken feet from soup (collagen for their joints), yacon and radish soup, beet root + corn soup, stir-fried yau mak veggie with red yeast and garlic, and steamed white pomfret with red dates, goji berries and ginger. Very simple yet delish and nutritious dishes.