Today, I’m going to share my fun (read: exhausting) experience as the caregiver of Ibu! And let me tell you, it took every ounce of energy and emotional resilience I had to sit down and write this. But here we are. So, buckle up, because this ride is wild.
Okay, quick context: Ibu has been unwell for more than two years. No need for specifics, but let’s just say if she actually listened to people (especially me), she’d probably be on the fast track to recovery. But, nope! She’s stubborn, and honestly, I don’t even know what else to say about her ego. It’s like I’m fighting a never-ending boss level in a video game that I didn’t sign up for.
I guess Ibu’s still in her denial phase. It’s been over two years since she first got sick, and honestly, I don’t think she’s ready to admit it. Like, I get it. No one wants to say, “Hey, I’m sick now, and I need help.” But come on, we’re way past that. We’ve been to the hospital, we’ve seen the doctors, and the situation is pretty clear. Yet somehow, she still acts like nothing’s wrong.
It’s wild, honestly. Some days, I think she just doesn’t want to admit it to herself because that would make it real. I think it’s that pride, you know? The pride of someone who used to run a whole household, work a full-time job, and never need anyone to do anything for her. She’s just not ready to let go of that. I guess that’s just part of the process, right? The denial. But it’s hard. Hard for me to watch her push herself too much, hard for her to accept that she needs to slow down.
Oh, and before you ask—yes, I do have brothers, but you know how brothers are… They’re just there, doing brother things. I don’t know, man, they’re clueless half the time. It’s like they exist in a completely different universe where house chores magically do themselves. So, yeah, I’m not exactly holding my breath for any help from them.
Now, let me just say this: being the only daughter in the family? HATE IT. With a passion. I feel like I’ve been cursed to juggle 100 different lives all at once. You know those video game characters that do everything – cook, clean, fight bad guys? Yeah, that’s me, but with house chores. And it’s not fun. I was not prepared for this. I’m only 19! (Wait, I’m not even 19 yet!) Here I am, trying to adult my way through this chaos, and I am straight-up crying every single day.
I’ve got friends, sure. But do you think they’d really get what it’s like to cry over the exhaustion of cooking, sweeping, and being a human alarm clock for an elderly person who refuses to listen? Nope. I don’t think so. They’re out here stressing over exams or, like, boys or something, while I’m on my hands and knees scrubbing toilet floors, mentally debating the meaning of life.
Let me tell you, when Ibu got admitted to the hospital, being the youngest among all the seasoned adult caregivers was pretty depressing. All these 35+ year-old daughters who looked like they had it all figured out, handling their stuff like pros, and then there’s me: trying not to burst into tears while struggling to figure out how to navigate all this without losing my mind. Sometimes I wonder, shouldn’t I be crying about flunking an exam or getting ghosted by a guy? But noooo, I’m out here crying because I’ve been sleeping on hospital floor for 10 days straight. I have no space for myself, and it’s just exhausting.
Oh, and don’t even get me started on the classic comment from Ibu’s friends when they come to visit: “Wah, dah boleh kahwin dah. Pandai masak semua.” Like, excuse me, if being able to cook and clean means I’m ready for marriage, then no thanks. I am NOT signing up to be someone’s personal maid. Hard pass. And then they throw in the whole “be patient” advice. Ugh, I really can’t stand hearing that! Maybe it’s because it feels like I get it all the time, and it just adds to my frustration. I know they’re trying to be supportive, but it makes me feel like a bad person for not handling everything with grace. Sometimes, I just wish they could understand how overwhelming this really is.
To cope with the madness, I started making vlogs of me cooking and baking–just to make it feel less overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not out here posting them, because let’s be honest, my cooking journey isn’t exactly influencer material and no one needs to listen me ranting about how tired I am in the background. But, you know, it helps me feel less like I’m drowning in house chores. Oh, and dancing! Yep, I dance while sweeping just to keep my sanity intact. It’s the only way I’m surviving.
Now, if you know Ibu, you’d know she’s one of the most diligent, fussy people on this planet. She sweeps the house every. single. day. without fail, even when she’s working 8 to 5. And, apparently, that means I’m expected to do the same? Um, no thanks, I’m tired. I’m emotionally drained after pushing myself to the limit in college, and now, being home is no walk in the park either. But I’m here, doing it anyway because… what choice do I have?
Oh, and let me tell you about the time I got scolded because one of Ibu’s plants died. I used to love plants, but honestly, Ibu has way too many! I even asked my brother to help take care of them, but he kept putting it off—ugh, I wish I could put off cooking for him! So, of course, the plant ended up dying. I get it; when you’re sick, everything feels more intense. But crying over a plant? Really? In the end, Ibu just asked the pekebun to handle it. Kan senang.
Sometimes I don’t want to say it, but the house does stress me out. The pressure is real. It’s tough though, you know? The house can be overwhelming sometimes. It feels like there’s no time for me. I just want five minutes of peace where I don’t have to think about laundry, or whether I remembered to give Ibu her meds. Some days, I wonder if the walls are closing in. Other days, I just cry it out and call it a win. But at the end of the day, I push through because what else can I do?
Now, I know this sounds like I’m complaining (okay, I am complaining), but hear me out. I’m learning things I never thought I would at this age. I’ve learned patience (well, mostly), and I’ve learned how to be adaptive. I’ve learned to find joy in small things and to appreciate the strength it takes to care for someone you love. I’ve learned that daydreaming about being married to a charming guy while scrubbing the toilet actually makes the chore a little less awful. And I’ve learned that sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is laugh–even if it’s at how ridiculous everything seems.
And let me be real with you all for a second: I wasn’t always this involved. Ibu did everything when I was growing up. So now, it feels like life is giving me a crash course on adulthood, whether I’m ready or not. But deep down, I know this is for a reason. Maybe it’s shaping me to be more responsible, more empathetic, and maybe, just maybe–more appreciative of everything Ibu did for me. Yeah, yeah, that’s what I’ll tell myself, even though it hurts along the way. Right now, I’m lying in bed, exhausted to my core, but you know what? I don’t care. I did the house chores, and I’m making sure Ibu’s health is priority number one.
So yeah, if you’re ever feeling like your life is too chaotic, just remember that somewhere out there, I’m probably crying over a pile of laundry or trying to convince Ibu to please take her medication. Anyway, make dua for Ibu, please. Not just for her health, but for her strength to get through this.
s o y a w r i t e s 