Don’t Ask Me to Remember Your Name

 Don’t Ask Me to Remember Your Name

By Fong Muntoh

Let the moment speak for itself.

Some days, our seniors remember names, faces, even stories from decades ago. Other days, everything feels like it’s floating—like a dream they can’t quite hold onto.

At our senior care centre, we don’t push. We let things happen naturally.

So if you're visiting someone with memory loss, try not to ask, “Do you remember my name?” That one question, though innocent, can cause stress. It reminds them of what they’ve lost. Let the conversation unfold gently. If they remember, wonderful. If they don’t, that’s okay too.

Because connection doesn’t always need a name. Sometimes, it's enough to sit beside them. Let them talk. Let them be quiet. Let your presence bring comfort, not pressure.

Here, every photo on the wall, every song, every gentle routine helps bring some sense of time and place. Some days, that’s all they need. Familiarity—not facts.

Come visit. Not to correct or remind, but to share a moment.

Even if they can’t say your name,

they’ll remember how you made them feel.

Dos and Don’ts When Visiting Friends with Dementia

 Dos and Don’ts When Visiting Friends with Dementia

Because how we show up matters more than what we say.

Visiting a friend with dementia can feel uncertain. You want to connect, but you’re unsure how to start the conversation — or whether they’ll even remember you. But don’t let that stop you. Your presence can still bring comfort, joy, and a sense of belonging.

Here’s a gentle guide on how to make your visit meaningful — for both of you.

 

✅ DO: Come with calm and kindness

Your energy sets the tone. Enter with a smile, speak slowly and clearly, and stay relaxed. If they seem confused or unsure who you are, don’t take it personally. Your calm presence still matters.

 

❌ DON’T: Ask “Do you remember me?”

This common question can unintentionally cause stress or embarrassment. If they don’t remember, they might feel like they’ve failed. Instead, introduce yourself warmly — “Hi Aunty Mei, it’s Muntoh — I used to visit you on Sundays. I’ve missed you.”

 

✅ DO: Go with the flow

Let go of correcting or trying to orient them to “reality.” If they think it’s 1985, or talk about people who’ve passed on, follow along with empathy. You can say, “Tell me more about that,” rather than “No, that’s not right.”

 

❌ DON’T: Overwhelm them with noise or a crowd

Dementia can make it hard to process too much stimulation. Keep the environment quiet and visits short — around 30 minutes is often ideal. One or two familiar faces is better than a big group.

✅ DO: Bring simple joys

A familiar song, a favourite snack, photos from “the good old days” — these can awaken recognition and feelings of safety. Use senses: music, touch, smells — they often outlast

memory.

❌ DON’T: Talk over them or rush the conversation

Give them time to find their words. Silence is okay. Don’t fill every pause. And if they struggle, don’t finish every sentence — just be patient. What matters is the connection, not the content.

 

✅ DO: Honour their dignity

Speak to them directly, not about them like they’re not in the room. Even if they don’t respond much, they can still feel respect or dismissal. Call them by their name, and look them in the eye.

 

❌ DON’T: Focus on what’s lost

Avoid saying things like “You used to love this!” or “You were so smart.” It can remind them of their decline. Instead, stay in the present. Appreciate small moments — a smile, a nod, a shared song.

 

✅ DO: Leave your expectations at the door

Some days will be better than others. Your visit might not go as planned. But even if they don’t remember the visit tomorrow, they’ll still feel the warmth today.

 

A final thought...

Dementia may take away memories, but not the need for love, connection, and dignity. Your visit, your voice, your hand held in theirs — these things matter more than we can measure.

So show up with heart. Even when words fade, love remains.

When Someone Tells You They Have Cancer: Dos and Don’ts

 When Someone Tells You They Have Cancer: Dos and Don’ts

Because the first response matters.

It’s one of those moments that can catch you off guard. A friend, colleague, or family member sits you down and says, “I’ve got cancer.” The air shifts. Your heart tightens. You want to say something helpful — but the words don’t always come easy.

Here’s the truth: You don’t need to say something perfect. You just need to be human, present, and kind. But there are some things that help more than others — and some things that, although well-meaning, can unintentionally hurt.

Here’s a simple guide to walk with grace in a moment that really counts.

✅ DO: Just listen

Sometimes the best thing you can do is say less and listen more. Let them share whatever they feel — fear, anger, confusion, even humour. You don’t need to fix it. Just be a safe space.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m here for you.”

❌ DON’T: Compare or tell stories about someone else

You might be tempted to say, “My uncle had cancer too and he...” — but pause. Everyone’s journey is different. Don’t shift the focus. Let their story be about them, not someone else’s come.

✅ DO: Acknowledge their courage

It takes strength to open up about cancer. Honour that. Even a quiet “That must’ve been hard to share — thank you for telling me” can mean the world.

---

❌ DON’T: Offer false hope or clichés

Avoid phrases like:

• “Everything happens for a reason.”
• “Stay positive.”
• “You’ll beat this, I know it.”

You don’t need to sugar-coat reality. Sometimes, it’s okay to say:

“I don’t know what to say... but I’m with you.”

✅ DO: Ask what they need

Everyone responds differently. Some want space. Some want to talk. Some want practical help. Ask gently:

“What would support look like for you right now?”

Even if they don’t know yet, it shows you care — without assumptions.

❌ DON’T: Disappear

One of the most painful things for someone with cancer is friends who vanish. Maybe they didn’t know what to say. Maybe they were afraid. Be the one who stays. Send a message. Check in. Even small gestures matter.

✅ DO: Respect their pace and privacy

Not everyone wants to talk about it all the time. Follow their lead. If they change the subject, let it go. If they tell you in confidence, keep it private unless they say otherwise.

❌ DON’T: Make it about your emotions

Yes, it’s upsetting to hear. But don’t break down in front of them or make them comfort you. If you need to cry, do it later, with someone else. Be steady — for them.

✅ DO: Offer specific help

Instead of saying “Let me know if you need anything,” say:

• “Can I drop off dinner next Thursday?”
• “I’m free to drive you to chemo next week.”
• “I can take the kids out on Sunday if you need a break.”

Concrete offers are easier to accept than vague promises.

 

❌ DON’T: Start prescribing remedies or pushing products

This one needs to be said clearly: Don’t recommend miracle cures, herbal treatments, or supplements — especially if you’re selling them. Your friend is already dealing with medical decisions and emotional overload. The last thing they need is unsolicited advice or a sales pitch.

Respect their treatment path. Let doctors be doctors — and you be the friend who simply cares.

A gentle closing thought...

Cancer strips away illusions. It brings people face to face with fear, mortality — and the true meaning of friendship.

You don’t need fancy words. You just need heart.

Be the friend who doesn’t flinch. The one who listens. The one who stays.

That kind of presence? That’s love in its purest form.

10 Things to Do to Prepare Your Home for Ageing Gracefully

 10 Things to Do to Prepare Your Home for Ageing Gracefully

Because growing older should feel safe, comfortable, and empowering — right at home.

Many of us say the same thing as we grow older: “I want to grow old in my own home.” And it’s a beautiful wish — to stay in familiar surroundings, with memories in every corner.

But staying at home as we age doesn’t happen by luck. It takes foresight. It takes a bit of planning. And sometimes, it means letting go of how things used to be, to make space for what’s needed now.

Here are 10 practical, thoughtful things you can do today to prepare your home for the years ahead — so it continues to serve you with safety, comfort, and dignity.

 

1. Declutter with Purpose

Over the years, we gather things. Lots of things. But clutter becomes a safety hazard as we age — a tripping risk, a cleaning burden, or simply visual overwhelm.
Start slowly. One drawer, one shelf, one room at a time. Ask: Do I still use this? Does this still bring joy or function?

Letting go of stuff makes space for safety and serenity.

 

2. Ensure Good Lighting Everywhere

Ageing eyes need brighter light. Replace dim bulbs with brighter, warm-white LED lighting. Install nightlights in hallways, bedrooms, and bathrooms.
Natural light is great for mood and health too — so keep curtains light and open windows when possible.

 

3. Make the Bathroom Fall-Proof

The bathroom is one of the most dangerous spots in the home.
Install grab bars near the toilet and in the shower. Use a non-slip mat inside and outside the shower. Consider a shower seat or handheld shower head.
Raised toilet seats can also make a big difference.

 

4. Reconsider Slippery Floors and Rugs

Polished tiles, loose rugs, and glossy wood can turn hazardous with even a small spill.
Replace rugs with anti-slip mats, secure edges with tape, or better yet — remove them altogether.
Opt for anti-slip coating or vinyl flooring in wet or high-traffic areas.

 

5. Widen Pathways and Remove Obstructions

Walkways should be clear and wide enough for walking frames, wheelchairs, or just safer movement.
Shift furniture to open up space. Avoid sharp corners where possible, and consider padding or rounded edge options.

 

6. Install Easy-Access Storage

Bending down or reaching up too high can be risky. Reorganise cabinets and shelves to keep daily items between knee and shoulder level.
Use pull-out drawers or baskets so you don’t have to dig deep into dark corners. Label everything clearly, especially if memory starts to fade.

 

7. Switch to Lever Handles and Easy Fixtures

Twisting knobs gets harder with arthritis or hand weakness. Replace doorknobs and taps with lever-style handles.
Install rocker light switches or smart lighting systems that work by voice or app — small changes that reduce daily frustration.

 

8. Secure the Staircase or Consider Alternatives

If you have stairs, install sturdy handrails on both sides. Use anti-slip stair treads.
Eventually, you might want to move your bedroom downstairs or consider a stairlift — not tomorrow, but keep the option open.

 

9. Plan for Emergency Response

Have emergency contacts listed clearly and visibly — not just in your phone, but on paper near the phone or fridge.
Consider a medical alert device or smart home assistant that can call for help with voice commands.
Check that your house number is visible from the street — emergency services shouldn’t struggle to find you.

 

10. Create a Comfort and Joy Zone

Ageing is not just about preventing falls. It’s about creating comfort, too.
Set up a favourite chair with a good reading light, soft blanket, and a cup holder.
Have music easily accessible, photos that warm your heart, and maybe a small indoor plant to care for.

 

Bonus Tip: Start the Conversation Early

Preparing your home is part of preparing your life. Talk to your children or trusted friends about what support might look like in the future — whether it's home care, part-time help, or moving into assisted living when the time comes.

 

Growing Older, Growing Wiser

Your home should grow with you — not work against you. These changes don’t need to happen all at once. But each one is a step toward staying independent, safe, and in control of your space and your story.

You’ve taken care of your home for years. Now, let it take care of you.

10 Things To Check to Ensure Healthy Ageing at Home

 

10 Things To Check to Ensure Healthy Ageing at Home

Because staying well means staying one step ahead.

Ageing at home is a growing trend — and a deeply personal choice. It's familiar, comforting, and filled with memories. But staying healthy at home takes more than just a safe environment; it also means paying close attention to our bodies and minds as they change with time.

Many health issues in older adults don’t come with loud alarms — they creep in quietly. That’s why regular health checks are so important. They give us the chance to catch problems early, manage chronic conditions better, and enjoy a better quality of life.

Here are the key health checks every older adult should consider regularly to ensure healthy ageing at home:

 

1. Blood Pressure Checks

Why it matters: High blood pressure often has no symptoms but increases your risk of stroke, heart attack, kidney disease, and dementia.

What to do: Check your blood pressure at least once every 6 months, or more frequently if you’ve been diagnosed with hypertension. A home blood pressure monitor is a great investment — easy to use and helpful for spotting trends.

 

2. Blood Sugar (Glucose) Monitoring

Why it matters: Diabetes is common among older adults and can silently damage nerves, eyes, kidneys, and the heart if unmanaged.

What to do: Do a fasting blood sugar test annually — or more if you’re already diabetic or prediabetic. Ask your doctor about your HbA1c levels too, which gives a better long-term picture.

 

3. Vision and Eye Health

Why it matters: Diminished vision increases fall risk, affects reading and independence, and could signal more serious conditions like cataracts, glaucoma, or macular degeneration.

What to do: Get a full eye check once a year. Even if you think your glasses are fine, some changes are subtle and best caught early.

 

4. Hearing Tests

Why it matters: Hearing loss can lead to social isolation, depression, and even cognitive decline. Many older adults wait too long to seek help.

What to do: Get your hearing checked every 1-2 years. If people keep telling you you’re turning the TV too loud — take it as a cue!

 

5. Bone Density Scan (DEXA)

Why it matters: Osteoporosis is known as a “silent disease” until a fracture happens. A simple fall can lead to a broken hip, which affects mobility and independence.

What to do: Women over 65 and men over 70 should have a bone density scan. If you're at high risk (family history, underweight, or long-term steroid use), consider checking earlier.

 

6. Cholesterol and Heart Health Screening

Why it matters: High cholesterol increases risk of heart disease — and you won’t feel it creeping up.

What to do: A simple blood test every 1-3 years is enough. If you’re on medication or have risk factors like family history or diabetes, do it more regularly.

 

7. Cognitive Function Screening

Why it matters: Memory lapses can be normal with age — but consistent forgetfulness, confusion, or changes in language or judgment may indicate dementia or other cognitive conditions.

What to do: Early screening tools like the MMSE or MoCA can help detect changes. Don’t wait until there’s a crisis — speak to your doctor if you or your loved ones notice changes.

 

8. Dental and Oral Health Checks

Why it matters: Oral health affects more than just your smile — it's tied to heart disease, diabetes, and even pneumonia.

What to do: Visit your dentist at least once a year. Dry mouth, gum disease, or loose dentures can cause issues with eating and nutrition.

 

9. Cancer Screenings (Depending on Age & Risk)

Why it matters: Early detection saves lives. Screening recommendations change with age and personal risk.

What to do: Ask your doctor about relevant checks — like colonoscopy, prostate exams, breast exams, or Pap smears — based on your age and health history.

 

10. Functional and Mobility Assessment

Why it matters: Your ability to move safely — climb stairs, get in and out of a chair, walk without unsteadiness — is key to staying independent at home.

What to do: A physiotherapist or geriatric doctor can assess your balance, strength, and gait. Early intervention can prevent falls.

 

A Proactive Approach to Ageing Well

Ageing doesn’t mean waiting for problems to appear. Healthy ageing is about staying one step ahead. Regular health checks help us stay in control — not just of illness, but of our choices, our lifestyle, and our future.

These checks aren’t just about numbers or charts — they’re about peace of mind. They help you continue doing what you love, living where you love, and enjoying the people you love.

Growing older at home isn’t just a hope — it’s a plan. And a good plan starts with good habits.

 

HEY Seniors, Ease Off the Advice Pedal

 TITLE: HEY Seniors, Ease Off the Advice Pedal

By Fong Muntoh

We seniors love to say, “I’ve been through it. I’ve got experience to share.” But let’s be honest — how often does that line truly land with today’s younger generation?

We may believe our stories are gold — and in many ways, they are. We survived tough times, made hard choices, and came out with battle-worn wisdom. But here’s the hard truth: the next generation isn’t exactly waiting eagerly by the rocking chair for our life lectures. They’ve got Google, YouTube, Reddit, and TikTok. Every piece of advice we think we’re uniquely offering? It’s already out there. Indexed, hashtagged, commented on, and likely debunked.

Our “experience” used to be currency. Now, it’s nostalgia. And nostalgia has a short shelf life in a world that updates every 10 seconds.

The issue isn’t that we’re wrong — we might be right. The real issue? They just haven’t lived long enough to care yet. Wisdom only sinks in when life gives it context. Until they feel the sting of their first heartbreak, the regret of an unspoken apology, or the quiet joy of choosing peace over pride — our advice is just noise.

You can’t teach lived experience. It has to marinate.

And honestly, didn’t we do the same? How many times did we brush off our elders with a polite nod, only to realise years later that they were right — painfully, beautifully, maddeningly right?

But that realisation was ours to earn. Just as this new generation needs to earn theirs.

So instead of trying to hand down life like a manual, maybe it’s time we step back. Let them make the mistakes. Let them fall. Let them get up with scuffed knees and bruised egos. That’s how they’ll write their story. Not as a copy of ours, but as something entirely their own.

We’re not irrelevant. We’re just… background music now. A steady hum of support, not a booming voice of instruction. When they’re ready, they’ll ask. And when they do, that’s our cue to speak — not to lecture, but to reflect. Not to control, but to companion.

Until then, maybe our wisest move is to simply smile and say,

"You’ll see. And when you do, I’ll still be here.

Grace That Leads – My Journey in Aged Care

 Title: Grace That Leads – My Journey in Aged Care

If you asked me 25 years ago whether I would dedicate my life to aged care, I would have probably smiled politely and said, “That’s not for me.” But today, as I look back at every decision, every challenge, and every quiet miracle that has unfolded along the way, I see one thing clearly—it was never just my plan. It was God’s grace, every step of the way.

Many think aged care is about systems, operations, or policies. But I’ve come to know it as something deeper—it’s ministry. It’s service. It’s love in action. And none of it, I repeat, none of it would have been possible without the hand of God guiding me through seasons of doubt, moments of weakness, and times I simply wanted to give up.

There were days when financial strain made the future uncertain. There were times when criticism hurt more than I admitted. And there were nights I stayed up wondering if I was really making a difference. But God never left. In every stumbling block, He provided a stepping stone. In every shortfall, He sent unexpected provision. When doors closed, He opened windows I never saw coming.

From the smallest acts of kindness by a caregiver to the big decisions involving centre operations, I’ve learned that aged care is sacred work. It is holy ground to serve those in their final season of life with dignity, patience, and love. And for me to be part of this—still standing after all these years—is nothing short of a divine appointment.

I don’t write this blog to boast about accomplishments. I write this to testify:

Without God, I would not have taken the challenge.

Without God, I would not have stayed the course.

And without God, I would never have grown through it all.

So today, I give thanks. I give glory.

To the One who saw this journey long before I did.

To the One who equipped me when I felt unqualified.

To the One who still walks with me every day in the halls of Komune Care and beyond.

This journey isn’t just about aged care.

It’s about obedience. Faith. And grace.

And I pray that as long as I serve, my work will reflect His heart.

Amen.

Living the Last Days and Years Alone

Living the Last Days and Years Alone
By Fong Muntoh

No one teaches us how to grow old.
And even fewer speak about growing old alone.

Not everyone has children. Not every child comes back. Some spouses go too early. Some friends fade quietly with time. And one day, you wake up and realize the silence in your home has become your closest companion.

In aged care, I’ve seen it.
The brave ones who still smile.
The ones who say “I’m okay” when asked, even though they miss conversations, shared meals, or someone who remembers their birthday.
And I often wonder: what keeps them going?

Maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s strength.
Or maybe, deep down, they’re still waiting for something—even if they don’t know what it is anymore.

Living alone in the later years is not just about being physically by yourself. It’s about carrying memories with no one left to share them with. It’s about celebrating your own birthday with a slice of cake you buy yourself. It’s making medical decisions alone. It’s falling sick and hoping someone, somewhere, will notice.

But this isn’t a piece about pity.
This is about quiet courage.

There is dignity in choosing peace over pity. In continuing to water your plants, take your walks, wear your favourite blouse even if no one will see you. There is grace in finding joy in radio music, afternoon light, or the neighbour’s cat that visits once a week.

If you are reading this and living these years alone, I want you to know—your life still matters. You are still part of the fabric that holds this world together. You have stories, wisdom, and presence that carry weight.

And if you’re caring for someone in this stage of life, pause and sit with them—not just physically, but emotionally. Let them tell you the same story twice. Let them ask you about your day. Let them feel useful again.

Because loneliness in old age isn’t always about being forgotten. Sometimes, it’s about being left unseen.

So today, if you know someone living their final years alone—reach out.
And if you are that someone, know this: you are not invisible. You are deeply, deeply seen.

Menjalani Hari dan Tahun Terakhir Seorang Diri

 Menjalani Hari dan Tahun Terakhir Seorang Diri

Oleh Fong Muntoh

Tiada siapa mengajar kita cara untuk menua.
Dan lebih sedikit lagi yang berbicara tentang menua seorang diri.

Bukan semua orang dikurniakan anak. Tidak semua anak akan kembali. Ada pasangan yang pergi terlalu awal. Ada sahabat yang perlahan-lahan hilang bersama masa. Dan pada suatu pagi, kita sedar bahawa kesunyian di rumah telah menjadi teman paling setia.

Dalam dunia jagaan warga emas, saya melihatnya.
Individu-individu tabah yang masih mampu tersenyum.
Yang menjawab “saya okay” bila ditanya, walaupun hati mereka rindu pada perbualan, makan bersama, atau seseorang yang masih ingat hari lahir mereka.
Dan saya sering tertanya—apa yang membuat mereka terus bertahan?

Mungkin kerana kebiasaan. Mungkin kerana kekuatan.
Atau mungkin, jauh di dalam hati, mereka masih menunggu sesuatu—walaupun mereka sendiri tidak pasti apa lagi yang ditunggu.

Menjalani hari-hari terakhir seorang diri bukan hanya tentang fizikal yang bersendiri. Ia tentang membawa kenangan tanpa sesiapa untuk berkongsi. Ia tentang menyambut hari lahir sendiri dengan sepotong kek yang dibeli sendiri. Ia tentang membuat keputusan kesihatan sendiri. Ia tentang jatuh sakit dan berharap ada seseorang, di mana-mana, yang akan perasan.

Namun, ini bukan tulisan tentang simpati.
Ini adalah tentang keberanian yang diam.

Ada maruah dalam memilih ketenangan berbanding rasa kasihan. Dalam terus menyiram pokok, berjalan perlahan, memakai baju kegemaran walaupun tiada siapa yang melihat. Ada keindahan dalam kegembiraan kecil—muzik di radio, cahaya petang, atau kucing jiran yang datang melawat seminggu sekali.

Jika anda sedang membaca ini dan menjalani tahun-tahun akhir seorang diri, ketahuilah—kehidupan anda masih bermakna. Anda masih menjadi sebahagian daripada benang kehidupan yang menyatukan dunia ini. Anda punya kisah, kebijaksanaan, dan kehadiran yang membawa erti.

Dan jika anda menjaga seseorang di fasa ini, duduklah bersama mereka—bukan sekadar secara fizikal, tetapi secara emosi. Biarkan mereka ulang cerita yang sama. Biarkan mereka tanya tentang hari anda. Biarkan mereka rasa berguna sekali lagi.

Kerana kesunyian di usia tua bukan semata-mata kerana dilupakan. Kadang-kadang, ia kerana tidak dilihat.

Jadi hari ini, jika anda kenal seseorang yang melalui tahun-tahun akhir seorang diri—hulurkan tangan.
Dan jika anda adalah orang itu, ketahuilah: anda tidak hilang dari pandangan. Anda sedang diperhatikan dengan penuh penghargaan.

Kadang-kadang, kesunyian di usia tua bukan kerana dilupakan. Tapi kerana tidak dilihat.”

Bila Tiada Apa-Apa Rasa Seperti Segalanya

 Bila Tiada Apa-Apa Rasa Seperti Segalanya

Oleh Fong Muntoh

Ada hari yang datang tanpa bunyi.
Tiada emosi besar. Tiada keputusan penting. Hanya… udara. Namun, ada satu beban halus yang menekan dada, seperti selimut yang tidak diminta.

Hari ini, hari itu.

Tiada apa yang salah, tapi tiada apa juga yang terasa betul. Saya jalani rutin seperti biasa—balas emel, senyum pada wajah-wajah yang dikenali, berjalan di koridor pusat jagaan seperti selalu. Tapi dalam hati, ada satu kesunyian yang berdengung.

Dan saya sedar—hari-hari begini bukan kosong.

Inilah detik-detik di antara. Jeda di antara satu ribut dan yang berikutnya. Mata badai emosi. Bila segala-galanya di dalam diam, tapi berjaga. Rasa segalanya, tapi digelar “tiada apa-apa.”

Dalam dunia penjagaan, kepimpinan, dan kehidupan sendiri—ada hari-hari di mana kita memikul perkara yang tidak kelihatan. Kita serap keresahan orang lain, soalan mereka, kekecewaan kecil yang tak pernah disebut. Kita tahan perasaan sendiri, tunggu masa yang lebih sesuai untuk meluahkannya. Dan dalam proses itu, kita hilang jejak pada apa yang kita benar-benar rasa. Sehingga kesunyian itu menyapa, dan kita terpaksa menghadapinya.

Dan tidak mengapa.
Kadang-kadang, diam itu adalah cara jiwa menarik nafas.

Jadi hari ini, saya izinkan sunyi itu wujud.
Saya biarkan ‘tiada apa-apa’ itu hidup.
Kerana mungkin, dalam detik paling sunyi, kita paling dekat dengan kebenaran.
Kerana mungkin, bila tiada apa-apa rasa seperti segalanya—itulah hakikatnya.

When Nothing Feels Like Everything

 When Nothing Feels Like Everything

By Fong Muntoh

Some days arrive without noise.
No big emotions. No decisions to make. Just... air. And yet, the weight of it presses softly on the chest, like a blanket you didn’t ask for.

Today is one of those days.

Nothing is wrong, and yet nothing feels quite right. I move through the motions—respond to emails, smile at familiar faces, walk the corridors of the care centre like I always do. But inside, there’s a strange silence. Not numb, not sad. Just a stillness that hums.

And I’ve come to understand—these are not empty days.

These are the in-between moments. The pauses between one storm and the next. The eye of the emotional cyclone. When everything inside you is quiet, but watching. Feeling everything but calling it “nothing.”

In caregiving, in leadership, in simply being human—there are days where we carry invisible things. We absorb others’ worries, questions, small disappointments. We hold back our own, waiting for a better time to speak them. And in that process, we lose track of what we’re actually feeling. Until the stillness catches up to us, and we’re forced to notice it.

And it’s okay.
Sometimes stillness is just a soul’s way of breathing.

So today, I allow the quiet.
I let the nothingness be.
Because maybe, in the quietest moments, we are closest to truth.
Because maybe, when nothing feels like everything—it actually is.