Tuesday, 2 September 2025
This morning started with a bowl of pure happiness: bubur sumsum made by my mom. Creamy, soft, topped with a drizzle of melted palm sugar. It’s basically comfort in a spoon. Honestly, it tastes like the kind they serve at fancy hotels for breakfast, except this one comes with an extra sprinkle of motherly love. And apparently, it’s ridiculously easy to make: just a bit of rice flour, a pinch of salt, stir until thickened, and done. A practical recipe that could even be a little business idea for my kids when they’re abroad. Who knew that something so simple could feel so luxurious?
Now, let me confess something: I’ve been walking around for days with glasses that only have one functioning arm. Yes, you read that right. Out of two pairs of reading glasses I own, both broke in exactly the same place: the left side. Which, of course, reveals one of my secrets: I always sleep on my left side. Saturday, I stopped by the optical store to get a replacement, but they didn’t have the right stock. So I resorted to Shopee and played a guessing game with sizes. Miraculously, out of the two I ordered, one fits perfectly. Bonus: it folds into this tiny little thing like a Transformer. Now let’s hope it survives my bedtime habits.
And then there was the case of the missing SilverQueen. The mystery had us all laughing. Last Saturday, my mom bought three bars for her three little grandchildren. Somehow, one went missing. The youngest grandchild sweetly offered to share with the only boy cousin. Later, just as we were leaving, one bar reappeared and was handed to my husband. But when we got home, it was gone again... apparently left in the fridge at the old house. We shrugged and moved on. Then today, while my daughter was rummaging through her bag, she suddenly pulled out one more SilverQueen! Turns out it was actually meant for my mom’s grandson. Family drama, chocolate edition. The sweetest part? My daughter shared her part with me, letting me satisfy my inner child’s longing for that legendary, nostalgic long-live SilverQueen.
Speaking of nostalgia, I’ve also been craving old-school bread with Blueband margarine and Ceres chocolate sprinkles. It was my childhood lunchbox staple, thanks to my mom. Back then, not every kid could bring bread with margarine and sprinkles to school. It was considered luxurious! There’s even a meme that says if you brought that to school, you were definitely from a rich family. The truth? My parents weren’t rich. My mom just worked hard to make sure her kids ate well.
My kid, on the other hand, has been craving garlic butter bread. So, I ordered four kinds online: French baguette, Bandung-style bread, Malaysian roti john, and classic toast. She was so excited she waited until the delivery arrived before heading back to the dorm. Just before dinner, the package came, and voilà ! She made me both butter-sprinkle toast and garlic butter bread. Both were delicious, though in different ways. Isn’t it funny how food connects generations? My mom used to give me sprinkle bread, and now my kid made exactly the same with bonus baked garlic toast for me. Full circle, with extra carbs.
Today also brought a thoughtful package from my sibling: Albuminos, a supplement made from snakehead fish (ikan gabus), known to be excellent for post-surgery healing. Rich in albumin, glycine, zinc, and all that science-y stuff that helps wounds recover faster and boosts the immune system. I felt so cared for. Sometimes love arrives not in words, but in little boxes of capsules.
Later in the evening, my mother-in-law called. She’s the chatty extrovert type, always the first to reach out, whether to update us on property matters or chat about politics. Quite the opposite of my mom, who’s introverted and rarely calls first. I see myself somewhere in between: rarely reach out first, but ready to talk when I feel safe and connected.
By the time I finally got to bed, I was greeted with fresh sheets, thanks to my trusty “Cleansheet Ranger” (yes, we have a nickname for the household hero who changes sheets). There’s something so comforting about crisp, fragrant sheets. Oh, and here’s a secret: the trick to keeping fitted sheets from running all over the place? A little tool my husband discovered. Who knew marriage perks include hacks for bedding?
As I lay down, I thought of this line from The Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu: “Joy is much bigger than happiness. While happiness is often seen as being dependent on external circumstances, joy is not.”
And it’s true. Joy isn’t always about grand achievements or dramatic breakthroughs. Sometimes it’s a bowl of bubur sumsum, glasses that (finally) fit, garlic bread shared with your child, or a phone call from someone who cares enough to check in.
Look for joy in the humble moments, honor the people who make them possible, and pass on that care in your own way.
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