Stingy

Mom always says that I’m stingy. Her actual word is thrifty, but I know she means stingy. Sometimes she calls me stingy without even saying the word. Well, whose fault is it anyway? When I was in elementary school, who gave me a meagre pocket money? Who never allowed me to buy anything from the school canteen? Who, every month or so, said that she needed money and would be very happy if I could help her? (Like a good little moron that I was, I gave my savings to her. Shame on you, Mom. Tsk...tsk...tsk...)
She was right, though. I am thrifty. Borderline stingy. More and more so. My motto on books is, Never buy what you can borrow. If you can’t borrow, buy second hand. And since I came to Sydney, I’ve grown from books to many other second hand things. The first one was a reading lamp ($6). Then a CPU tower ($ a hundred something). Then a hat ($3). Yes, I was worried about lice, so I soaked it for several hours in detergent. And more books (Adrian Moles Diary (60 cents)). But my biggest testament of stinginess is a coffee table that I picked up from the side of the road nearby. Hey, it was in good condition and the owner didn’t want it anymore (I asked, hehehe…). It is now sitting proudly in the living room, with the $6 reading lamp perched on in. Hmm… I think the lamp is a bit overpriced.

For Yani

(Image from Wikipedia)

Before I knew Yani better, there was an incident about her that I remember. We had a very strict new coordinator. Yani was working in admin downstairs. One day she made a mistake, and our boss went down to reprimand her. I must admit, our boss could be a dragon lady at times. I don’t know what was said to Yani, but upstairs we heard that she fainted during or after the encounter. Later we found out that she was born with a heart defect.

When Yani moved upstairs, I got to see the real Yani. She was always cheerful. Always had a big smile on her face. When she spoke it was always with a childlike expression and enthusiasm.

Yani shared a story with us. She and her husband had been trying to have a child for several years. Since the office consisted of moms and grandmoms, they eagerly gave her all kinds of advice. Some serious ones and some very funny ones which I can’t repeat here for the adult content of the advice. I was actually a little worried because of her heart problem, but she surprised us all. A few months later she declared that she was pregnant. I don’t know which advice was accountable for that. But the mommies teased her endlessly about it.

The pregnancy went smoothly and months later we visited Yani at hospital where she gave birth to a healthy, cute baby.

That was the last thing I remember about her. She moved to another branch, and I moved to Sydney. More than three years passed. Then a friend told me that Yani had cancer. That it had already reached stage three. That she was skin and bone and hollow cheeks. And today Yani passed away. I remember her as young and full of life and courageous and that’s the way I will always remember her.