La verdad, no lo se.

Dear Zach,

For the past few days, my home has been a busy hub hosting for friends and relatives to visit my mum who is bed-ridden now. Most of the relatives were coming outstation purposely to visit her for one last time. Although my mum could not recognize some of them, she still managed to open her eyes, staring at them, as if she recognize them, but barely able to speak. When she speaks, she speaks too softly, out of breath. She can barely move now due to pain. Pain is her best companion now til death do her apart. My dad has hired a day-carer to bath and change and feed for her. My dad had had enough of everything as if wishing my mum to leave the world as soon as she could, rather than seeing her suffering day by day, dying internally. Although the cost of hiring a carer was expensive, it was a price my dad willing to foot and wanting my mum to rest in comfort and peace. 

My aunt came to my room yesterday and asked.

"What is your plan after your mum died?"

It is a question, no doubt, I have been asking myself since years then and til now. What is my plan? 

To be truthful, I do not know, I said. 

I am in my 30s. No job prospect. Had a very interesting work background for a year in 2019. Learnt a bit and pieces of everything - I am jack of all trades, master of none.

I used to be passionate about something. Tried pursuing it. Somehow of being passionate about something does not guarantee you a financial security. Then, my passion died. Never thought of it again. 

As much as I wanted to tell my aunt about my plan. I couldn't. Usually, I would have came up with something. This time, I told her, "I really don't know."