The Water Flow

One of the jobs mom wanted me to do was to buy her a new garden hose. "The one we bought last year is all twisted up and water won't come out," she said, "It had been working fine until two days ago and suddenly, water just stopped coming out."

I examined her hose. It folds at several places. But when you untwist it and turn the water on, the hose should straighten out. I asked mom to turn the water on so I could try the hose head. She said the water was already on. I squeezed the lever on the hose head. No water came out. Nothing was obstructing the hose though it looked very limp. Maybe water was not coming from the tap, I thought.

I examined the tap. I tried to turn the water off. The knob wouldn't budge. I fiddled with it, then suddenly, it turned. The sound of water hummed from the house. I squeezed the lever on the hose head. Water came spraying out.

I looked at mom with one an arched eyebrow. She looked back at me with disbelieve. "You turned the water on?" she asked.

"Yes, other wise, water doesn't come out."

"Why was the water turned off? I never turn the water off. Someone must've turned it off without telling me." As she said that, the middle of the hose bulged up and started squirting. There was a leak there. The hose connector at the tap also picked up a furious little squirt.

"It must've been spraying like that and your tenant or your neighbour must've turned the water off and really tightened the tap."

I disconnected the hose from the tap. The sealant tape on the coupling was all shredded. Mom mumbled and bemoaned about faulty hose and tap. I put new sealant tape on the tap spout and reconnected the hose to it. I turned the water on and squeezed the hose head. Water sprayed without leaking at the coupling.

"Wow, you really know what you are doing," mom said, clearly impressed. But the middle of the hose was still squirting. "Can that tape fix that hole?" she asked.

"No. You need a hose mender. It's like a clamp that joins two pieces of hose. I will have to cut your hose. I will get a mender and come back to fix it. I've done it many times." I've done it exactly once. But see how the offer to fix things for her just poured out of my mouth before I realized I would have to make another trip back.

But you know, I left mom thinking I'm a water whisperer.

It dawns on me why I do things for her even though I don't always feel like it. That's how I keep regular contact with her to make sure she's alright. It feels limited and a poor form of filial piety to share just the occasional meal with her. This way, we are incorporated into each other's lives in a real, practical, and meaningful way.