It was a room lined with tiny beds for young patients. The air conditioned room had emitted warmth with occasional laughter of children from family visits. I occupied the bed right next to the door feeling groggy and uncomfortable from the relieving of anesthesia after a long night sleep. The thought of death had probably never occurred to a child though there were bound to have risks. Instead, I was feelings sulky about hospital food and how tasteless they were. I came out alive and I was one step closer to living a normal life- fewer medications, more treats and more play ( though the thought of more studying slipped my mind then).
And then my mum presented a sealed cup of ice cream on the table in front of me. It was my first treat after the draining operation. My eyes lit up instantly and enjoyed the ice cream treat a little more than usual. It felt like eating ice cream in winter but more than that it was a treat which worked better than all medication. :> What caught me off guard even further was a toy laying in a separate compartment below the ice cream. I was never quite a hello kitty fan from the start but it didn’t matter because it was a pleasant surprise and a decent toy ( unlike kinderjoys nowadays). Just like a rebellious kid, the ice cream became my lunch and not one scope of the porridge which the hospital provided enter my mouth. I was even more proud upon the realisation my mum was witnessing all these.
A normal chocolate ice cream coupled with an extra tinge of surprise became my most memorable and happiest meal midst the string of fuzzy memories in my mind. Because that seemingly trivial treat signaled a mother’s warmth and a completion of my hurdle in life.