It's Come A Full Circle

This is about a chest of drawers. A chest of drawers that I had bought when we moved to Begonia Drive. Daddy had bought this house after he retired. It was another one of his upgrades and it was his final one.

Diana had gotten married and moved out. This chest of drawers was from Ikea and I bought it after I had started working for a few years. Some years later, I got married and there's a photo of this chest of drawers in one of my wedding photos.

I gave Mummy and Daddy a framed sepia photo to keep. And keep they did. Right until Daddy passed away a year ago.

After I moved out of Begonia Drive, this chest of drawers was moved to Mummy and Daddy's room and they used it. Taking pride of place was that framed sepia photo. Every time I went to their room, it was there.

After Mummy passed away, nothing really changed as far as that photo and the chest of drawers were concerned. Daddy kept them as they were. Soon after Mummy passed away, Daddy was also diagnosed with dementia too. But that photo stayed and never went away.

Daddy passed away rather suddenly a year ago - just 2 months before I was to relocate back from Hong Kong for good. Since our new flat was not ready yet, we moved into Daddy's room - which was large enough for the four of us.

So the chest of drawers was mine to use again. This time, I had my boys and the chest of drawers were used by them. In one of the drawers were all the birthday cards and red packets that Daddy received for his 80th birthday, just a little more than a year ago. I clearly remember opening his ang pows and birthday cards and letting him know who they were from.

Although he was tired after his big birthday bash, we chatted for a long time about his younger days when he had finished his studies at RI. He had talked about how he had applied to work for Guthrie but eventually ended up working at Shell - where he worked for more than 30 years until he retired.

It would have been more than 25 years since I first bought the chest of drawers. And that framed sepia photo is still in the room, where Daddy had left it.

So it's come full circle. And tomorrow I will be leaving it behind again, in Mummy and Daddy's room, as I move to my new place just a short walk away. It had been my wish to live near Daddy so that I could spend more time with him in his final years. But that is not meant to be. I missed the opportunity with Mummy and now, Daddy too.

They are with me in spirit and my wedding photo and their photos will move with me - to my new home, sans the chest of drawers.

Love Never Dies .. Reunited in Death

The first time I saw how much my dad loved my mum was when my mum passed away. For a man who, to us growing up, appeared to be a stoic, he really showed us what true love is. And when I reflect on my dad's life with my mum, I begin to realise just how much he loved her and how determined he was for her to be a part of his life.

Daddy met Mummy when she was just 15 years old. They used to meet at Tanjong Pagar railway station. Theirs was quite an unusual love affair considering that mixed marriages were so rare in those days. Although Mummy was biologically Chinese, she was raised a Sinhalese by her adoptive family. She did not speak Chinese and was a staunch Buddhist, attending Sunday school and was well versed in Pali chants.

That Daddy had married her when there was this cultural divide showed how much he loved her and was prepared to go against accepted norms. Indeed, those were the happiest days of his life. He told us that one day when he was lying on her bed, crying, a few days after her funeral, when there was a calm around the house.

When they were still courting, Daddy gave Mummy a tiny heart-shaped locket with her photo in it. Old and discoloured, my brother had kept it all these years. When Daddy was crying because he was thinking of her and how happy he had been with her, my brother took the locket out from his pocket and gave it back to Daddy. So now, wherever Daddy goes, Mummy would be with him.

When Daddy retired more than 20 years ago and bought his dream house with his retirement money, I'm sure he had planned to enjoy his retirement with Mummy. I had expected them to go on holidays, visit old friends. If dementia had not struck Mummy, I think they would be happily gallivanting and catching up with old friends.

Daddy would not leave Mummy when she became immobile and housebound. He would take care of all her needs, ensuring that she ate well, talking to her all the time. Even when she's gone, he still talked to her. In his heart, she is not gone. When he saw that our names were not inscribed in the marble slab in her niche, he felt that we were abandoning her.

On 26 April this year, four years after Mummy passed away, Daddy left us. The next day would have been their 58th wedding anniversary.

Goodbye, Daddy

On Friday, 24th April, at 8.45pm, I got the dreaded message to go home ASAP, that night if possible. This was so sudden and unexpected. Daddy had been in hospital for some tests and was discharged on Monday. On Wednesday, he had an appointment with the neurologist for his dementia. He suffered from Lewy Body dementia, something the doctor diagnosed around 2014.

And just on Thursday, he had seen the GP as he had a cough and a slight fever. That day, he was well enough to walk unaided. Just seven months ago, we had celebrated his 80th birthday and he was in good spirits and looking healthy.

I could not get a flight out that night. I spoke to Daddy and told him I was coming home soon. I arrived Singapore on Saturday on the first flight I could get and went straight to the hospital. He never awoke from his sleep and took his last breath at about 3.40am on Sunday morning.

I have been living in Hong Kong for nearly 8 years. We had decided to return home and 22 Jun was the date set. For months, I had spoken to Daddy, telling him that I would be coming home soon. But it was not soon enough.

On Saturday night, the doctor came to see Daddy and told us that he may not make it through the night. Except for my own family who were still in Hong Kong and my niece in the US, all of us stayed with him that night. We each had our private time with him.

Daddy was always very concerned for all of us. But he also missed Mummy a lot. I told him that he should let go if he wanted to, and go look for Mummy so that he could be with her. He had missed her for too long.

I had seen the signs from Mummy's passing when I spent the last night with her. Like her, Daddy also wanted to cleanse himself. A number of times that early Sunday morning, he had tried to open his eyes. He had become increasingly fidgety too, shifting his body and legs. He also struggled to say something. I don't know why, but I suggested that perhaps the nurse should check on his diapers. True enough, he had soiled himself so the nurses cleaned him up nicely.

When my two siblings went back to his room, he looked really fresh and peaceful. Everything was very calm, there wasn't any more of the laboured breathing because of his pneumonia. But his heartbeat dropped very drastically. Within 15 minutes, he took his last breath. Like Mummy, it was very peaceful when he took his last breadth.

Why, Daddy, did you not wait for me to come home for good? After all, it would have been only 2 more months.

After his funeral, I looked through Daddy's documents that he had kept in his drawer, going through all his old papers. What I discovered perhaps explained why. I found his wedding certificate. He and Mummy married on 27 April 1957. He passed away one day before their wedding anniversary.

Daddy, you are in a better place right now. After Mummy passed away, you told me and Victor that the days you courted her were your happiest days. I hope you will find her in your next life. After all, both your and Mummy's ashes are now one and we have released you both together at sea so you are now united in death, as you were in marriage.

Goodbye, Daddy. I miss you so much.

Mummy's Memorial Photobook

It's taken a long time to complete Mummy's memorial photobook to mark her first anniversary. More than two years have actually since passed. I was not happy with the first one that was done and it took me a while to get it redone and to find a printer. Finally found an online service based in the US. So Melissa will bring the printed copies home.

It's been a bittersweet project as I cried so many times all over again. I'm glad it's now completed and hope that everyone likes it. Am really excited to see the final printed copy!

So click here for a preview. If anyone wishes to purchase additional copies, do so directly at www.blurb.com.

A Year Has Passed

This time last year, I was in Singapore as Mummy was in hospital. At 1858 hours today, it will be exactly a year since she took her last breath.

In her memory, we have put together a photobook,capturing her life from a little girl, to the time she met Daddy at 15 and ultimately in what I believe were here happiest days, as a grandmother.

It was a difficult project, as it brought back all the tears. But it was worthwhile and a good way to keep our memories of her alive. But more so for the younger kids to know her since they did not really have that chance.

Mummy, you are in our thoughts always and I still wait to hear your voice again. And that laughter of yours, which I really miss.

My Mother's Daughter

It's 3 months since Mummy passed away and we have just performed the dharna to transfer merits to her. During the prayers, all the tears and sadness returned.

In these 3 months, I find myself  looking for ways to keep her memory alive and close to me. Strangely, one of the things that I have been doing is to look inwards at myself. What have I inherited from her? How am I like her? I am, after all, my mother's daughter.

I have always felt that I looked like Mummy. But all the photos that I had seen did not show that. Even worse, the joke in the family was that I was adopted because I didn't look like anyone! Well, my feeling was proven right when I saw an old photo from my aunt. When I first saw the photo that my brother had posted on Facebook, I thought it was one of our old family photos. I thought the girl in the photo was me. But it was actually Mummy when she was a teenager! (And my brother insisted that he inherited her stance.)

So what else did I inherit from Mummy? There is always this debate about Nature vs Nurture. How much of what we are is taught and how much is innate? Is it only wishful thinking that I inherited Mummy's traits -  resourcefulness, creativity, efficiency, cleanliness, intuition, love for children and cooking? Mummy was all that and more.

Everyone knows how well Mummy cooks and raves about her cooking. Even today, when there's a gathering, we reminisce about her cooking. She cooked without a recipe and relied on her taste buds. Everything was 'agak agak'. Such was her talent and skill. Some things cannot be taught. Mummy definitely did not go to cooking school. She probably did not even help out in the kitchen. In fact, when she was young, she was so pampered that she would not have to wash dishes and got pretty much her own way.

Oh, the  things that Aunty Wimala told me when she was with me by Mummy's side at the hospital. Mummy was very defiant and loved to dress up. Once, she wanted to put on her new high heel shoes to school. But Grandma forbade her. So she put on  her usual white canvas shoes. But once she was at the bus stop, she would change into her high heel shoes and walk the rest of the way to school.

In my head, I can hear Mummy say "Shut up lah". That's what she used to say to Aunty Wimala when she was upset. Uncle Cyril also gave a hint of what Mummy was like when she was young. She liked  wearing her dresses short. Looking at all her old photos, you realise that Mummy was a real fashionista.

Mummy certainly was a free spirit and spoke her mind. I think that being pampered when she was young, she was used to getting her own way. As a mum, she was the best. No doubt about that. As Reverend Bhante said at the dharna on Saturday, mums are always special. No one will be able to cook like mum - nothing else tastes the same or as good as mum's cooking. And it's because of all the love that goes into the cooking. She doesn't cook for herself; she cooks for us. How true! I can't find anyone who cooks like Mummy. And I miss her and her cooking so much.

After the prayers, my son JJ came up to me and said that my cooking is the best. Yup, it's true, mum's cooking is always the best. Thank you, Mummy, for passing so much of yourself to me.

Till We Meet Again

Mummy passed away on Tuesday evening, 28 June, 4 days after I arrived from Hong Kong. I don't know if it was because she finally got to see me and my sister, who came home from the US the day before. It had been a long, torturous journey for Mummy, living with dementia that kept her trapped and unable to speak. Dementia struck her in her fifties, at a time when she should have been enjoying her life's rewards.

My sister arrived from the US on Monday night and we went to see her that very night. That was the night before she died and I spent that night at the hospital with Mummy. I didn't think about it then but I think the first sign that she was getting ready to leave us was when she threw up her night feed. She was not able to keep any food down after that.

On the evening that she passed away, I had arrived with my sister and dad to see her. I noticed how fresh she looked. My brother, who had just seen her less than an hour ago but had left for work, had noticed that her eyelids were open just that little bit and not shut tightly like before. And the morning before, she had coughed up a lot of phlegm. Again, something she had not been able to do before. 

Her death was so peaceful that I did not even know that she had taken her last breath. That day, we we supposed to discuss with the doctor how to care for her at home. It had been everyone's wish that home would be where she should  take her last breath. However, shortly after we arrived at the hospital, the doctor checked on her. Shockingly, he told us things were not looking good and that she only had a few hours left. While we knew this day would come soon, we did not expect it to happen so soon. There were things I still had not done.

I had asked the doctor to try to keep her breathing for another day so my kids would get one last chance to see her. When that was not possible, I asked for just a little more time so my brother could come back from work.  But it was not meant to be. Her body just could not take it anymore. I did manage to get my kids to speak to her on the phone from Hong Kong. I hope she heard them.

Of the three of us, I think Mummy always felt my brother needed more attention. She was always worried about him, even crying for him everyday when he went into NS. And I think that she took her last breath even though he was not at her side because she had already seen him just a while ago and she knew that she need not worry about him anymore. My brother has done her proud, raising a fine family (one of his sons is in NS and was commissioned as an officer one week after her funeral; his other son, a keen photographer, is studying for his degree) and taking good care of her and my dad.

Strangely, after she took her last breath, her complexion changed and became very smooth and soft to the touch. She smelled so good and fresh too.

I had wished for a long time that she would be released from her suffering so that one day I would be able to talk to her, to hear her voice again. Until today, I still have not heard her voice and wonder when that would be. I miss hearing her voice so much.

I tell my kids not to leave room for regrets in their lives. Because I do have regrets and regrets haunt you for a long time. I regret not spending more time with her, talking to her while she still could. I regret not holding her more often and telling her how much I loved her. I regret all those lost years when I was so preoccupied with my own life and new family. I regret that my kids did not get to know her or get the opportunity to be pampered by her as she loved children so much.

I don't think that anything we do will ever be enough for all that she went through for us. Everything she did, she did for us. My only consolation is that we gave her the Buddhist rites that she would have wanted. Raised as a staunch Buddhist, Mummy had always found comfort in the priests' blessings. On Sunday evening at the hospital, she received blessings from a priest that she had known for many years. Right after she passed away at the hospital, he was there again to bless her.

I don't know how long the pain of losing her will last. We all grieve in our own private way. I think about her everyday and cry for her still. My dad looks at her photo and talks to her. He too, never stops thinking about her. Neither do the rest of our family...Mummy remains in all our thoughts.

Buddhists believe that when a person dies, they will be reborn. Every night during her wake, there were prayers where we chanted prayers and transferred merits to her, providing for a more auspicious rebirth in her new existence. As the priest said, being the good person that she was, she already had earned merits for herself.

Impermanence alas are formations,

subject to rise and fall.

Having arisen, they cease;

their subsiding is bliss.

As water raining on a hill

flows down to the valley,

even so does what is given here

benefit the dead.

As rivers full of water

fill the ocean full,

even so does what is given here

benefit the dead.

Mummy never enforced her religion or beliefs on us. But she did bring us to the temple often and we could see how dedicated she was. Her passing has made me understand her faith a little better and has made me want to know more.

My wish now is that we will all be together again in our next life. And I am still waiting for her to speak to me.