I love you, Ma Ma

I love you, Ma Ma. I love you. I know she can hear me even though she was not exactly looking at me. I know she can. Her grip on my hand seemed weaker than before. I so much so wanted to tell her how much I enjoy my current job and how much so I detest working long hours. Tell her about the things she has done for me as a child. How I love the vegetarian meal she prepared from scratch. How she would do my hair like a princess. How she would pick me up from school during my lower primary days. How aromatic the coffee she used to brew.And the many occasions where she would stuff some money in my hands to buy things for myself as a teenager. How I enjoyed staying overnight at her place including my brothers and cousins. Time is running out. My vision is blurred now with nothing but tears...