An onslaught of upheavels and emotions. My heart felt like it was going to burst right out of my chest. I felt claustrophobic. I needed to get out of my home/condominium, and be out in the open.

It was late, sometime after midnight. I was having difficulty sleeping. My mind was all over the place, and I felt desperate. Slowly but surely, I managed to calm myself. A long, rambling speech about the practicalities of life helped to some extent. I told myself to be sensible, and to be an adult. Hmm. It was the night before sister number 3’s early morning flight last Sunday.

Before that it was sister number 2. In late November, I sent her and husband off to India after their stopover in KL from Sydney. They used the layover to visit our mum and brother number 1. The thought that I’ll not be seeing her on her return flight to Sydney because of a shorter transit in KL, made me feel tumultuous. Plans changed. Sister number 2 and husband were back in KL for brother number 1’s wake and funeral. Sending them off a second time recalled unsettled emotions.

And, before that it was, and still is brother number 1. The sadness was/is pervasive. I think about him. Remember him. In my head. Talking about him, however, is difficult. With my mum, and family. I get tearful. They get tearful. The commiseration of our mutual and genuine loss. I didn’t think I’d feel so sad or forget how to feel not unhappy. 

Back to last Sunday, I knew my heart wouldn’t physically explode out of my chest. Neither would it break even though I felt like it might. Sister number 3 arrived on Nov 5, a week before Deepavali, as part of her annual pilgrimage for the celebration. A little late this year as she had to attend to her husband’s medical needs and hospital appointments. Todate, she has diligently kept to her promise/arrangement with our mum to help bake and cook for the festival.

Her original trip was from Nov 5 to Dec 5. This is true. During one of our visits with brother number 1 in the hospital, he asked sister number 3, who was far from ready to go home, to stay until Dec 16. He actually said he would speak to her husband. Under the circumstance, the decision to defer her return flight was the right one as brother number 1 passed away on Dec 5.  

Sister number 3’s presence meant/means a lot to me. I was/am grateful to her on so many levels. Before she arrived, my visits to brother number 1 were limited to once a week. Yes, I know. There is Kalyani. Contrary to perception, Kalyani doesn’t work 24×7 although my mum requires 24×7 support and care. Kalyani does three days and three nights of 12 hours each. That’s 72 hrs. A week has 168 hrs. I do the balance. When brother number 2 isn’t available – he’s schedule is from Saturday morning to Sunday midday – I do four nights and three days.

The short of it is I used to drive or take the LRT to visit brother number 1 on Thurs or Fri. When I drove, he’d ask me to leave before 4.30pm to avoid the traffic jam from either the hospital or Subang Alam to KL. When I took the train, he’d say I could leave a little later so I could hang out with him. That’s so Gunda. Intrinsically a good ‘anna’.

Because of sister number 3, I was able to see more of brother number 1, particularly when it mattered the most. She and I spent the good part of many days buying lunch/food, medicines, when needed, travel and be with brother number 1 and his family. We’d talk and have a laugh depending on how he felt on the day. Our visits were so frequent that we probably saw the insides of the LRT and MRT trains more than we did anything else together. During the rides, we spoke mostly about brother number 1, his family, and our family. It worked for me because Kalyani cared for our mum when we were both out during the day. When Kalyani clocked out, sister number 3 took over, and spent the evenings/nights with our mum, instead of me. I went home to my husband. 

Sister number 3 also gave our mum and me the strength and support to face brother number 1’s deteriorating disease, and passing. She was a great source of comfort to both of us. But, she too was equally distraught and sad. And, as much as I didn’t want her to leave, I knew she had to go back. To her home. To her husband, who loves her dearly. To her different life and lifestyle in England. Hopefully, her heart will deal with and feel a little better with distance.