I still remember the day when I got the call from my mum in 2014. “Son, your father just had a stroke”, her shaking voice reverberated throughout the first few seconds. “I don’t know what to do”.

I was still in university in the United States, and it was the middle of winter. I suggested that I go back but my family insisted I don’t. The flight ticket was expensive, equivalent to about 2 months of an average monthly salary in Malaysia.

Looking back now, I make it a point that have regular lunches with my mum and how it has made my life richer. A bit of a leap but let me explain how it transpired for me.

Here’s the Context

My mum and dad worked very hard throughout their lives for good reasons. Times were tough, they had to work day and night to make ends meet.

They aimed to support all their kids throughout until they worked, and there were 3 of us. 3 rascals wreaking havoc at home and in school. McDonalds were a luxury back then. A drumstick of chicken for our birthdays only, while they eat remnants of chicken breast, feet and necks.

It’s fair to say, that they did their best to both support and spend time with us. And when they retire, they hope that they will be able to relax and enjoy more of their family lives with us and our kids (mostly our kids).

When my dad had the stroke, he was half-paralyzed and couldn’t talk. My mum had to take up the role of primary caregiver for him and let me tell you, it’s much harder on the caregiver in terms of mental and physical strain.

I know because I have done it when I graduated from university. I took care of my dad for 6 months full-time, and boy, never in my life, have I respected the caregiver profession even more.

Day in and day out, my thoughts revolved around handling and managing the needs of my father. From the endless physiotherapy sessions to bathing him, to equipping the house with disabled-friendly equipment.

I only did this for 6 months. Mum has done this for almost a decade since then. It’s not easy. It’s not glamorous.

It’s tiring. Mentally and physically.

I quit my stable job to pursue my own business … and spend more time with my parents/mum

My dad’s 70, and my mum’s 67. It’s a miracle that my dad has survived since a decade ago. Doctors gave him about 4–5 years after he got the stroke. But he has defied it and is decently healthy.

Meanwhile, my mum has health problems but she is healthy. But my thoughts have always come to a crossroads where I feel like time is becoming more precious to them … and to me.

I have seen a lot of my peers talk about “We must pursue a worthy career, climb as high as possible, earn as much money as possible. Then we would have lived a worthy life”.

And I have done that, for the last 8 years of my career. I have achieved a lot and worked in wonderful places. My parents are happy about it but I find myself increasingly disillusioned with this philosophy and way of life.

It feels like I am trapped. Trapped in the eternal prison of striving for more achievements and material possessions. And increasingly, I feel like a prisoner in my mind and body. Unwilling to let go of the endless pursuit or rat race.

My thoughts went to my parents. Since moving out, I have only seen them maybe once every two weeks. I know my mum’s struggle to be the primary caregiver, and also her longing to spend more time with her children.

As her health declined more due to old age, I thought more and more about what I could do. It also coincided with the time that I was getting more disillusioned with working in corporate. The absurdity of working for companies that only cared about topline revenue and bottom-line profits.

“Am I going to work like this? Working on pleasing people that I don’t care about, and for something as cold as profits in favour of time with my family?” I figure for myself, that I am going to regret this when my parents are gone from my life in the future.

It made me cry. It made me strong enough to embrace the uncertainties of self-employment (which until today, I don’t earn much) and choose to spend more time with my wife and family.

Every 2–3 days of the week, I will have lunch with my mum

And this happened mostly on weekdays. On the weekends, I will also bring my wife to have tea time and dinner with the whole family.

I will start the day by having breakfast with my wife (sometimes I cringe her out by uploading TikTok’s that say “breakfast with wife”), then make my way to my mum’s house. I will fetch my dad to his physiotherapy session, and my mum will sit in the backseat of the car.

Then, I will help her do most of her errands such as buying vegetables and meat from the morning market, shopping for everyday things, and everything in between.

After that, we will sit down at one of the coffee shops and order ourselves a cup of coffee and a simple meal to go along with it. She always insists that she pays for it (she’s very quick to pull out money every time and I have always lost this eternal battle).

She will always start by either 1) saying that the coffee is great and 2) what should she eat. To which, I will always reply, “You will always get the same thing, either mixed rice or soup, low carbs, high on vegetables and protein”.

Then, she will smile and do just that. We will talk about Dad, extended family’s troubles, nostalgic places and events, and even the gossip for the week.

And then about 30 minutes of this, I will whip out my laptop to work on things and she will go on her social media to watch the millions of shorts and content that she has grown to like.

I am not saying this is perfect, as I think I should be spending more time but it’s something that I have come to accept. That I still need to work on my own business consistently. After all, I am not earning much yet.

She understands that and always encourages me to work on them.

In some ways, I probably did this more for myself

I am going to be honest. I have fears. A lot of them. Fear of regretting that I didn’t do my best to help my parents. Fear of not spending enough time with them. Fear of regret in general.

It’s not to say I am a big help to them. She still has to manage my dad’s schedule, do most of the groceries, and do most of the house chores.

All I am doing is just helping her out with the morning routine and having lunch with her. And sometimes, I will be in a bad mood and snap at her — which are things I regret.

I probably am doing these things to feel like I am doing something for her and Dad. In the grand scheme of things, I could never repay everything that they have done for me.

But regret is a strong feeling. I don’t want to lay in bed one day when my parents have passed and think “I should have done that. Why didn’t I?”

It will probably kill me.