Yesterday, I found out a piece of very disturbing news. Someone whom I called a friend - and who introduces me as a friend had been doing rather unexplainable evil things. When I say evil - it isn't black magic or anything like that. It is just doing something without a conscience. The persons who told me this were, in their words - "royally screwed over" by this friend of mine. And the question then became - "how the hell can you be in business with her??"
For those of us in the business line, there will be once or twice in which we might be screwed over, whether it be by a supplier, a client (most common :P) or even your own partner. I run my businesses rather conservatively and whilst I bulldoze forward with innovative ideas or sought out a niche market - these are often calculated risks.
I had known this "friend" - and for simplicity sake, let's call her S.O. - for awhile now. Thus, I know her character, her attitude, her behaviour, but I had never known her to screw a friend over. Alas, people change, as they say. You may wonder - why was it that I believed the story of the "persons" who told me about S.O.'s evil deeds? That's because they've happened to me too - in the course of the business partnership. But remember - I take calculated risks in my businesses and I try never to put myself in a precarious position.
So "why the hell am I still in business with her?" I reflected on this question yesterday. I realized that perhaps, I've turned a blind eye to what S.O. was doing all these while and just manoeuvered my way around the 'screwing attempts' because I want to see the good in someone (plus, I'm rather skilled in the manoeuvering :P). But I think what it really was - was that, I refused to believe that someone who calls you a friend would even think of screwing another friend over! And then, I admit - I refused to believe nor admit that I had perhaps made a very wrong decision embarking on this particular business partnership.
Sometimes, I'm rather idealistic when it comes to "friends". I really don't believe a "friend" will screw you over for pittance. But apparently, they do. Hearing what happened to the "persons" who told me their story yesterday, I realize, perhaps, it is now time to open my eyes and accept, as well as admit my mistake. It seems rather clear to me that for a "friend" to be able to screw you over, that friendship is meaningless to him or her. And as such, it is rather pointless that I keep running away from this fact. But I do count my blessings that I had been smart enough to wriggle my way thus far out of any precaurious situations.
I have a number of businesses and all with different partners. I think the ruling point in any partnership is TRUST. Yes, we may all have our differences and we may have major disagreements and we may be bitchy or cross, or have PMS or different moods - but most importantly, NEVER SCREW YOUR PARTNER OVER. That's a big no-no in my books. I believe that of myself and therefore, I believe others will not do that to me. It may be a pain in the ass to adjust yourselves in the partnership, to be patient, to swallow one's pride, to synergize your strengths and weaknesses - but as long as you don't get screwed over, it's fine. I'll put up with that anytime (tiring as it may be!).
While I go lick my wounds now, I shall endeavour to keep this in mind - not to let this one mistake, affect the rest of my business partnerships that does not require me to "bend over" - and for this, I'm a million times thankful and grateful.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
My Dad
(a working draft of my novel : "Growing Up A Chinese Daughter")
My Dad is almost like 2 different persons to me. One who was Hitler when I was schooling. And the other is Dad the Joker and one who has mellowed with age. But undoubtedly - the number one hero in my life.
He was definitely a man of few words then. When my friends came over - they secretly called him "Cannon Face" and we would all laugh about it. There was a period of a fair few years, in fact, throughout my high school and college days where I did my best to steer clear of him. Looking back, you know, it was just the trials and tribulations of growing up, immaturity and both parties having to learn how to deal with each other. I shan't get started on the numerous "why are you so old-fashioned?!" arguments. Of course, there were also the problems with 'boys' during my student days - and then later on in my adult life - the problem with the 'lack of boys' who might lead to marriage :P
Despite all his flaws, setbacks, bad examples and imperfections - why was it that I still gave him the "hero" title? Well, you see, my Dad was what the Chinese said : "Stubborn Mouth, Soft Heart". He was the go-to person for troubles of any kind - except the female ones. I remembered one of my first bad car accident - I called home, and Mom picked up the phone. I had to pretend that everything was ok and asked for Dad instead. You see, if I told Mom, she would just have a heart-attack and faint. But Dad - he came right over and the first thing he asked me was "Are you hurt?" (as opposed to "Did you kill anyone?" :P) And then, confirming that I was really okay, he went ahead to settle the problem at hand.
Another very early childhood memory was when I was still in pre-school. My chocolate and candy ration was frankly, quite miserable, bordering on abuse :P So, what I resorted to was stealing the candies and chocolates when nobody was looking. One afternoon, while Mom & Dad were watching TV, I went about prowling for my chocolates in the fridge. And of course, God punishes all those who do bad things. In my haste, my elbow hit the eggs and *crack* *crack* - two eggs fell and I was almost going to wet my pants with fear. But I had no choice - I went out to the living room and put on my best scared, pitiful face and announced that I broke some eggs. Dad came into the kitchen with me and saw the mess and asked me what happened. I kept quiet and started crying instead. He went about cleaning up the mess and then I picked up the courage to tell him in between sobs.... that.... I.... was.... trying ... to get... to ... the jar of chocolates .... at... the back.. of.. the fridge. Guess what he did? He fished out that jar and pulled out two pieces of chocolate for me! And then he said "Next time when you want something, ask for it, ok?" Ohhh, I see. It was that simple. And then I was confused because later on, in Hitler mode - what I asked for - I never got anyway :P
Oh, I have to tell you about my first ever ice-cream. Dad taught me how to eat an ice-cream. Well, actually, he SHOWED me how to eat an ice-cream. Well, we were still staying in Kepong Bahru then and Dad took me to the park and bought me an orange ice-cream. I was so excited! I had seen how other kids ate ice-cream - just lick it! Soon enough, the ice-cream was melting all over my fingers and hand and Dad, he took the ice-cream from me and said "Haiya... this is how you eat it, you see?" Lick, lick, bite, bite... he finished my first ice-cream.
Dad is in every way a problem-solver. I have never seen him in panic-mode ever. Whilst Mom and sometimes, myself would be "OMG! OMG! There is smoke coming out of the bonnet!!" and our first instinct would be for our brains to die-out for about ten seconds and our second instinct would be to call Dad - if it were Dad, he would be, in a cool, calm and collected manner - going through these exact motions : "Oh, there seems to be a problem. What can I do to get myself out of this situation - firstly, immediately. Secondly, long term solution." There was never a period of panic or brain-freeze. His philosophy was simple : "If the sky does fall down, use it as a blanket". I try to follow this philosophy of his too - but sometimes, Mom's genes are pretty dominant in me :)
The other thing about my Dad was his "never say die" attitude. Most of his skills - for cooking, for electronics, for woodwork, for plumbing and even for computers - were something he learnt on his own through trial and errors. The problem-solver in him will never admit defeat - if a problem cannot be solved. He would always say "How can it be possible that this cannot be solved?" - even if it took him days to figure out a roof-leak problem - he'd get to the bottom of it. The computer - from MS DOS to Microsoft to the internet dial-ups, later on to WiFi, and then Yahoo, and then Google and then Facebook - he sat down and figured it all himself. Such was his perseverance. For me, sometimes, it drives me crazy when I am unable to solve a problem - be it mathematical or plumbing works. So how? Call Dad.
One thing that always left me in awe of him was his ability to tell someone off in a way that made the other person kneel down for forgiveness. (Mom always said he should've been a lawyer and I should've followed suit :P) There were many other stories from his days as a normal school teacher to his days as a Headmaster. But I remember two such occurences. The first one was when after retirement, he went to teach in a private school (thereafter advising everyone who would listen to never ever send their children to a private school) and he scolded one of his students for making noise in the class. The very next day, the mother of the boy - who was a lawyer, came after my Dad and started shouting at him in the school's stairways. My Dad said "If you have a problem, please look for the Principal. I do not appreciate you shouting in public this way." Which she did and demanded the idiot principal reprimanded my Dad. Dad was summoned to the principal's office, in which ended with the mother coming out of the office in tears and sending an apology hamper to my Dad the next day AND even bought him hi-tea at Equatorial Hotel! Apparently, my Dad told her off for being such a bad parent and pointed out the fact that him teaching her son some manners was not wrong and in fact, not even his duty.
Second incident - a very, very recent occurrence - a month ago, my Dad walked the dog and he decided to take a new route. It just so happened that the Idiot who was staying at the corner house saw my Dad and started shouting at my Dad to stop bringing our dog around his 'area' because it was making his dog bark. At first, my Dad just ignored him. And then, when Idiot's wife started in on the verbal abuses as well, my Dad said some harsh words and left, fuming. He got home and related what happened to my Mom and my brother who happened to be around. My brother - who is very similar to my Mom in this aspect (chicken!!) decided to go over to Idiot's house... to do what? To apologize on behalf of my Dad! My God! Despite the sincere words of apologies from my brother, Idiot was still very temperamental. My Dad of course, did not take it sitting down. Once again, he shelled out his affinity to tame even the wildest animal. This time, it resulted in the Idiot apologizing profusely to my Dad. If my Dad had persisted, Idiot would've apologized to our dog even :P When my Mom related this incident to me, we were both laughing - because we surely felt sorry for whoever stepped onto my Dad's 'tail'. It's like - of ALL the people you want to verbally abuse, you picked MY Dad?? You were just asking for serious trouble, mate!
My Dad was a purveyor of the "no-nonsense" concept - meaning - do not give him nonsense. He simply will not take it. However, one can easily sit down and have a man-to-man discussion with him and he would be willing to budge (depending on his mood, though or your ability to create a perfect argument platform & strategy). I happen to be a fighter-cock like my Dad, as opposed to my peace-loving Mom. As kids, we were never brought up to be bullied nor to be pushed-overs. We were taught to fight for what is right and not to take nonsense hurled at us sitting down. Of course, this has gotten me into loads of trouble before since I have yet to master the art of "taming the beast" like my Dad, obviously has. I seriously need to brush up on this skill since I definitely have a lot of sharp things to say to a lot of people who deserves it :P
Dad rose through the ranks - from an ordinary non-graduate teacher, to Senior Assistant III, II, I and finally, got the big promotion to be a Headmaster. As a Headmaster, he was always sent to some C-grade public schools with the objective of making it A-grade. Once A-grade was achieved, he would be sent to yet another C-grade school to do the same thing. But you see, teaching wasn't his passion and he got into it because he thought he had no other options! Yet, he strived to do well in a field that he wasn't even liking - whereas our generation were forever talking about doing something that we like and pursuing our passion, etc, etc.
For this, I truly admired his perseverance : when you set-out to do something, you better do it well, or else, don't do it. One has to understand though, my Dad is a perfectionist. Whether it be a chart that he was drawing for school time-table or painting the walls in the house - if the chart appeared slightly off-centre, he would start a new one, or if the painting didn't look tidy, he would re-paint the walls all over again. Back when he used to cook for us, he even shaped the carrots and cucumbers to make them look good (he always says that he should've been a chef). In a way, I'm a little anal like him. I hate when my powerpoint presentations are not aligned meticulously. I hate when my staff pass me some half-ass, not-well-thought-out proposals. If you want to do something, you better do it well. Or else, don't do it. This, I took it along with me to pass my UPSR, SRP and SPM with flying colours (where on result announcement day, my Dad bought me my first lobster thermidore dinner!), later on, in college and university on scholarships and then later on - with my career and yet later on - with my triathlon races. Sure, I may slack off every now and then, and for sure, I wasn't exactly at the top of my game in every aspect - but I do know one thing - I always give it my 100% and sometimes more.
My relationship with my Dad really soared the year I was in Australia. Because I was a million miles away and often homesick (which was so unexpected since I thought I was dying to get out of the house!), I wrote home very frequently - often carrying tales (and photos!!) of my drunken nights and Mardi Gras experiences. Since I was really nowhere near enough for them to wallop the shit out of me, I wasn't afraid to tell them my "activities". And you know, I figured - they were the ones who insisted me coming over (because I had initially gotten a job offer with one of the 4As agency in town), so I shouldn't get into too much trouble with them. And for some reason, the generation gap between us narrowed. For me, it was like a whole new understanding between us.
When I was so often homesick in my first trip living abroad, whenever I called home, Dad would tell me to get off the phone. He would say "Just get yourself used to it and enjoy! Stop calling home!" I suppose, he wasn't very happy with the fact that I called collect either :P But that was Dad - he encouraged us and gave us the courage to go out and see the world - on our own. Go out there and experience the world. He totally wanted us to be independent (of course, now he regrets saying that I am just too independent and too bloody courageous for my own good). When I was posted to Jakarta in the midst of the racial massacre, Mom was ill with worry at me taking up the post, whilst Dad was like "Good. Go! It'll be a good experience for you!" He was more interested in my negotiated pay package :P
With his confidence - I went to Jakarta - where I had one of the worse overseas work experience of my life. Bombings, riots, curfews, but I wasn't afraid. Because in my mind - I thought - Dad wasn't afraid to let me come, so it's all good. HOWEVER, when the Indonesian political scene took a turn for the worse - my Dad actually started getting worried. And when he got worried - I got worried! When he said "Get on the first flight home," in one of the text messages, I knew - shit, I was in trouble. I had to get out! This was one of the only occasion where I ever saw Dad getting frantic. Mom panicking - that's normal. When Dad panics, people - we're in Code RED!!
Now, let's talk about Dad - the Joker. My Dad is one of the biggest prankster that I know. He would hide behind doors, walls, curtains, whatever he could find and jump out to scare the bejesus out of me or Mom. Of course, the Joker in him had to hide while Hitler was trying to discipline the children :P But the Joker came out after I started my adult life - as I said in earlier chapters - my parents were a bit weird. They never spoilt us as kids - always ruling with the cane - but only when we started working were we well and truly spoilt. Ahh,... maybe it was better this way. See? I turned out alright :)
When I was two years old, Dad fed me with his home-made belachan. The stinging spiciness made me bawl and he grabbed my Mom's glass of water (she used to keep a glass of water in the fridge - a very ugly green glass) and added hot water to it and made me drink it to ease the chilli-pain. Surprise! Surprise! After I recovered, I wanted more of them spicy stuff immediately. And to this day - people say I eat food with my chilli. Not the other way around. Dad calls me crazy - Sheesh, he should just ask himself WHY.
Anyway, yes, so there had been many times where I would chase him around the house because I want to pinch him for scaring the crap out of me. Sometimes, Ah Por would make a comment that I should be respecting my elders and not be violently attacking my Dad. But this was how our bond had evolved - we have become chummy-chummy pals :) And it is something I truly, truly cherished. We even smoke together now (ssshhhh!! OMG!)When he was not trying to play a prank on me, we would both gang-up to play a prank on Mom. Mom was always a good sport, but sometimes, she does get mad and then Dad would be in more trouble than I (hahaha). When he discovered the joy of the "Talking Alarm" in the Nokia mobile phone, immediately, his cheeky mind went scheming. Once, he purposely set the alarm for 6am and hid the phone in the kitchen. Needless to say, my Mom jumped out of her skin when a voice from nowhere was announcing "The time now is six o'clock."
My Dad really loves to kid around and he very often gets on my Mom's nerves. My Mom usually made him breakfast of bread and peanut butter or jam. He disliked this but because of his diabetes, he had to be careful with his diet (he got into diabetes trouble when the year I was in Australia, he apparently waited till Mom went to sleep and then ate chocolates and ice cream every night for supper while watching TV!!). He would bite the bread and shape them into something - sometimes, it was a boy looking over a wall, sometimes, it was a dog barking. My Mom didn't find this amusing. But he would laugh because he had succeeded in annoying her!
He was of course, elated when I finally decided to get married. When Kah Mun, my best friend who was my bridemaid in Bali told me : "So, Richard must be the happiest man in Bali right now," ... I said "No, no! My Dad is the happiest man in Bali!" When Kah Mun looked confused, I explained to her that my Dad had been waiting for this day to come for the last 10 years or so. I think the part about him sighing every so often and laments that his friends were enjoying grandparenthood should be kept for a whole chapter by itself. But he always said he's happy to be "rid of the responsibility" and now I am someone else's responsibility. Hahaha. I do not believe him.
Well, there were many a thing which the family wanted me to do for my wedding and in a way, I kinda didn't get a 100% of the wedding that I truly wanted. I voiced out my frustration in an email in which my Dad actually responded (he never really writes anything - too lazy) in a long reply mail - to sum up, he said he definitely wanted me to have the happiest wedding of my life.
And then when I had my KL reception and my Ah Por said she didn't want to come because her legs were giving her trouble - the only person I knew to call was my Dad (told you, he was the go-to person in troubles like these!). I called him in tears, sobbing and telling him that Ah Por wasn't going to come for my wedding (I had initially threatened that if both my Grandmas didn't show up for my KL reception, I wouldn't either :P) - and you know, even through the phone, I could sense my Dad's utter dilemma, I could hear his heart aching for me, over the situation. He had a crying bride in his hands! (or he could just be worried that I would do a no-show in KL - which I was fully capable of :P). But remember what I said about my Dad being a problem-solver? And exactly as per the role of my hero, he made arrangements so that Ah Por came for my KL reception. I was elated! And he truly lived up to his words - that he wanted me to have the happiest wedding of my life.
One of the "symbolical rituals" in a Chinese wedding ceremony was the father of the bride sheltering the bride out of the house with an umbrella. Whilst I modernized my wedding and scrapped away all these rituals, I was glad my Dad insisted on doing this - and carrying the umbrella all the way to Bali even. For this ritual symbolized that the Father, will forever be protecting the daughter, no matter what. That umbrella went missing for a few minutes - which sent my Dad into a frenzy, searching for it. I cannot remember who was responsible to help him keep the umbrella - but had the umbrella really gone missing that day, I think that person would be dead meat.
Life for me, wouldn't be the same without my Dad being around and like for every other person I love, I pray that he be around forever and ever and ever.
My Dad is almost like 2 different persons to me. One who was Hitler when I was schooling. And the other is Dad the Joker and one who has mellowed with age. But undoubtedly - the number one hero in my life. Let's talk about my Dad - the Hitler. In the "Hitler Home" - it was always his way or the highway. Even if Mom said yes, I could go to a friend's party but Dad said no, then the outcome was that I wasn't going to the party. The cane was one of his ruling devices. When I didn't come back from school with an "A" on my exam papers, whack-whack-whack on my palms. Oh - but if he didn't like the fact that my shorts were too short, he'd send Mom to do the dirty job. The Thomas Cup 1992 Finals - we were watching the Foo Kok Keong vs Alan Budikusuma match. I irritated him when I told him to stop making comments about the players. He sent me to my room. Boy, was I fuming! But, as he was so engrossed in the game, I was watching from the staircase landing :P There was also once when he was gambling (yes, my Dad was an avid gambler. WAS being the keyword) and forgot to pick me up from my tuition class. When he finally came, I pulled a face and then as usual - Hitler struck. Dad was never in the wrong.
He was definitely a man of few words then. When my friends came over - they secretly called him "Cannon Face" and we would all laugh about it. There was a period of a fair few years, in fact, throughout my high school and college days where I did my best to steer clear of him. Looking back, you know, it was just the trials and tribulations of growing up, immaturity and both parties having to learn how to deal with each other. I shan't get started on the numerous "why are you so old-fashioned?!" arguments. Of course, there were also the problems with 'boys' during my student days - and then later on in my adult life - the problem with the 'lack of boys' who might lead to marriage :P
Despite all his flaws, setbacks, bad examples and imperfections - why was it that I still gave him the "hero" title? Well, you see, my Dad was what the Chinese said : "Stubborn Mouth, Soft Heart". He was the go-to person for troubles of any kind - except the female ones. I remembered one of my first bad car accident - I called home, and Mom picked up the phone. I had to pretend that everything was ok and asked for Dad instead. You see, if I told Mom, she would just have a heart-attack and faint. But Dad - he came right over and the first thing he asked me was "Are you hurt?" (as opposed to "Did you kill anyone?" :P) And then, confirming that I was really okay, he went ahead to settle the problem at hand.
Another very early childhood memory was when I was still in pre-school. My chocolate and candy ration was frankly, quite miserable, bordering on abuse :P So, what I resorted to was stealing the candies and chocolates when nobody was looking. One afternoon, while Mom & Dad were watching TV, I went about prowling for my chocolates in the fridge. And of course, God punishes all those who do bad things. In my haste, my elbow hit the eggs and *crack* *crack* - two eggs fell and I was almost going to wet my pants with fear. But I had no choice - I went out to the living room and put on my best scared, pitiful face and announced that I broke some eggs. Dad came into the kitchen with me and saw the mess and asked me what happened. I kept quiet and started crying instead. He went about cleaning up the mess and then I picked up the courage to tell him in between sobs.... that.... I.... was.... trying ... to get... to ... the jar of chocolates .... at... the back.. of.. the fridge. Guess what he did? He fished out that jar and pulled out two pieces of chocolate for me! And then he said "Next time when you want something, ask for it, ok?" Ohhh, I see. It was that simple. And then I was confused because later on, in Hitler mode - what I asked for - I never got anyway :P
Oh, I have to tell you about my first ever ice-cream. Dad taught me how to eat an ice-cream. Well, actually, he SHOWED me how to eat an ice-cream. Well, we were still staying in Kepong Bahru then and Dad took me to the park and bought me an orange ice-cream. I was so excited! I had seen how other kids ate ice-cream - just lick it! Soon enough, the ice-cream was melting all over my fingers and hand and Dad, he took the ice-cream from me and said "Haiya... this is how you eat it, you see?" Lick, lick, bite, bite... he finished my first ice-cream.
Dad is in every way a problem-solver. I have never seen him in panic-mode ever. Whilst Mom and sometimes, myself would be "OMG! OMG! There is smoke coming out of the bonnet!!" and our first instinct would be for our brains to die-out for about ten seconds and our second instinct would be to call Dad - if it were Dad, he would be, in a cool, calm and collected manner - going through these exact motions : "Oh, there seems to be a problem. What can I do to get myself out of this situation - firstly, immediately. Secondly, long term solution." There was never a period of panic or brain-freeze. His philosophy was simple : "If the sky does fall down, use it as a blanket". I try to follow this philosophy of his too - but sometimes, Mom's genes are pretty dominant in me :)
The other thing about my Dad was his "never say die" attitude. Most of his skills - for cooking, for electronics, for woodwork, for plumbing and even for computers - were something he learnt on his own through trial and errors. The problem-solver in him will never admit defeat - if a problem cannot be solved. He would always say "How can it be possible that this cannot be solved?" - even if it took him days to figure out a roof-leak problem - he'd get to the bottom of it. The computer - from MS DOS to Microsoft to the internet dial-ups, later on to WiFi, and then Yahoo, and then Google and then Facebook - he sat down and figured it all himself. Such was his perseverance. For me, sometimes, it drives me crazy when I am unable to solve a problem - be it mathematical or plumbing works. So how? Call Dad.
One thing that always left me in awe of him was his ability to tell someone off in a way that made the other person kneel down for forgiveness. (Mom always said he should've been a lawyer and I should've followed suit :P) There were many other stories from his days as a normal school teacher to his days as a Headmaster. But I remember two such occurences. The first one was when after retirement, he went to teach in a private school (thereafter advising everyone who would listen to never ever send their children to a private school) and he scolded one of his students for making noise in the class. The very next day, the mother of the boy - who was a lawyer, came after my Dad and started shouting at him in the school's stairways. My Dad said "If you have a problem, please look for the Principal. I do not appreciate you shouting in public this way." Which she did and demanded the idiot principal reprimanded my Dad. Dad was summoned to the principal's office, in which ended with the mother coming out of the office in tears and sending an apology hamper to my Dad the next day AND even bought him hi-tea at Equatorial Hotel! Apparently, my Dad told her off for being such a bad parent and pointed out the fact that him teaching her son some manners was not wrong and in fact, not even his duty.
Second incident - a very, very recent occurrence - a month ago, my Dad walked the dog and he decided to take a new route. It just so happened that the Idiot who was staying at the corner house saw my Dad and started shouting at my Dad to stop bringing our dog around his 'area' because it was making his dog bark. At first, my Dad just ignored him. And then, when Idiot's wife started in on the verbal abuses as well, my Dad said some harsh words and left, fuming. He got home and related what happened to my Mom and my brother who happened to be around. My brother - who is very similar to my Mom in this aspect (chicken!!) decided to go over to Idiot's house... to do what? To apologize on behalf of my Dad! My God! Despite the sincere words of apologies from my brother, Idiot was still very temperamental. My Dad of course, did not take it sitting down. Once again, he shelled out his affinity to tame even the wildest animal. This time, it resulted in the Idiot apologizing profusely to my Dad. If my Dad had persisted, Idiot would've apologized to our dog even :P When my Mom related this incident to me, we were both laughing - because we surely felt sorry for whoever stepped onto my Dad's 'tail'. It's like - of ALL the people you want to verbally abuse, you picked MY Dad?? You were just asking for serious trouble, mate!
My Dad was a purveyor of the "no-nonsense" concept - meaning - do not give him nonsense. He simply will not take it. However, one can easily sit down and have a man-to-man discussion with him and he would be willing to budge (depending on his mood, though or your ability to create a perfect argument platform & strategy). I happen to be a fighter-cock like my Dad, as opposed to my peace-loving Mom. As kids, we were never brought up to be bullied nor to be pushed-overs. We were taught to fight for what is right and not to take nonsense hurled at us sitting down. Of course, this has gotten me into loads of trouble before since I have yet to master the art of "taming the beast" like my Dad, obviously has. I seriously need to brush up on this skill since I definitely have a lot of sharp things to say to a lot of people who deserves it :P
Dad rose through the ranks - from an ordinary non-graduate teacher, to Senior Assistant III, II, I and finally, got the big promotion to be a Headmaster. As a Headmaster, he was always sent to some C-grade public schools with the objective of making it A-grade. Once A-grade was achieved, he would be sent to yet another C-grade school to do the same thing. But you see, teaching wasn't his passion and he got into it because he thought he had no other options! Yet, he strived to do well in a field that he wasn't even liking - whereas our generation were forever talking about doing something that we like and pursuing our passion, etc, etc.
For this, I truly admired his perseverance : when you set-out to do something, you better do it well, or else, don't do it. One has to understand though, my Dad is a perfectionist. Whether it be a chart that he was drawing for school time-table or painting the walls in the house - if the chart appeared slightly off-centre, he would start a new one, or if the painting didn't look tidy, he would re-paint the walls all over again. Back when he used to cook for us, he even shaped the carrots and cucumbers to make them look good (he always says that he should've been a chef). In a way, I'm a little anal like him. I hate when my powerpoint presentations are not aligned meticulously. I hate when my staff pass me some half-ass, not-well-thought-out proposals. If you want to do something, you better do it well. Or else, don't do it. This, I took it along with me to pass my UPSR, SRP and SPM with flying colours (where on result announcement day, my Dad bought me my first lobster thermidore dinner!), later on, in college and university on scholarships and then later on - with my career and yet later on - with my triathlon races. Sure, I may slack off every now and then, and for sure, I wasn't exactly at the top of my game in every aspect - but I do know one thing - I always give it my 100% and sometimes more.
My relationship with my Dad really soared the year I was in Australia. Because I was a million miles away and often homesick (which was so unexpected since I thought I was dying to get out of the house!), I wrote home very frequently - often carrying tales (and photos!!) of my drunken nights and Mardi Gras experiences. Since I was really nowhere near enough for them to wallop the shit out of me, I wasn't afraid to tell them my "activities". And you know, I figured - they were the ones who insisted me coming over (because I had initially gotten a job offer with one of the 4As agency in town), so I shouldn't get into too much trouble with them. And for some reason, the generation gap between us narrowed. For me, it was like a whole new understanding between us.
When I was so often homesick in my first trip living abroad, whenever I called home, Dad would tell me to get off the phone. He would say "Just get yourself used to it and enjoy! Stop calling home!" I suppose, he wasn't very happy with the fact that I called collect either :P But that was Dad - he encouraged us and gave us the courage to go out and see the world - on our own. Go out there and experience the world. He totally wanted us to be independent (of course, now he regrets saying that I am just too independent and too bloody courageous for my own good). When I was posted to Jakarta in the midst of the racial massacre, Mom was ill with worry at me taking up the post, whilst Dad was like "Good. Go! It'll be a good experience for you!" He was more interested in my negotiated pay package :P
With his confidence - I went to Jakarta - where I had one of the worse overseas work experience of my life. Bombings, riots, curfews, but I wasn't afraid. Because in my mind - I thought - Dad wasn't afraid to let me come, so it's all good. HOWEVER, when the Indonesian political scene took a turn for the worse - my Dad actually started getting worried. And when he got worried - I got worried! When he said "Get on the first flight home," in one of the text messages, I knew - shit, I was in trouble. I had to get out! This was one of the only occasion where I ever saw Dad getting frantic. Mom panicking - that's normal. When Dad panics, people - we're in Code RED!!
Now, let's talk about Dad - the Joker. My Dad is one of the biggest prankster that I know. He would hide behind doors, walls, curtains, whatever he could find and jump out to scare the bejesus out of me or Mom. Of course, the Joker in him had to hide while Hitler was trying to discipline the children :P But the Joker came out after I started my adult life - as I said in earlier chapters - my parents were a bit weird. They never spoilt us as kids - always ruling with the cane - but only when we started working were we well and truly spoilt. Ahh,... maybe it was better this way. See? I turned out alright :)
When I was two years old, Dad fed me with his home-made belachan. The stinging spiciness made me bawl and he grabbed my Mom's glass of water (she used to keep a glass of water in the fridge - a very ugly green glass) and added hot water to it and made me drink it to ease the chilli-pain. Surprise! Surprise! After I recovered, I wanted more of them spicy stuff immediately. And to this day - people say I eat food with my chilli. Not the other way around. Dad calls me crazy - Sheesh, he should just ask himself WHY.
Anyway, yes, so there had been many times where I would chase him around the house because I want to pinch him for scaring the crap out of me. Sometimes, Ah Por would make a comment that I should be respecting my elders and not be violently attacking my Dad. But this was how our bond had evolved - we have become chummy-chummy pals :) And it is something I truly, truly cherished. We even smoke together now (ssshhhh!! OMG!)When he was not trying to play a prank on me, we would both gang-up to play a prank on Mom. Mom was always a good sport, but sometimes, she does get mad and then Dad would be in more trouble than I (hahaha). When he discovered the joy of the "Talking Alarm" in the Nokia mobile phone, immediately, his cheeky mind went scheming. Once, he purposely set the alarm for 6am and hid the phone in the kitchen. Needless to say, my Mom jumped out of her skin when a voice from nowhere was announcing "The time now is six o'clock."
My Dad really loves to kid around and he very often gets on my Mom's nerves. My Mom usually made him breakfast of bread and peanut butter or jam. He disliked this but because of his diabetes, he had to be careful with his diet (he got into diabetes trouble when the year I was in Australia, he apparently waited till Mom went to sleep and then ate chocolates and ice cream every night for supper while watching TV!!). He would bite the bread and shape them into something - sometimes, it was a boy looking over a wall, sometimes, it was a dog barking. My Mom didn't find this amusing. But he would laugh because he had succeeded in annoying her!
He was of course, elated when I finally decided to get married. When Kah Mun, my best friend who was my bridemaid in Bali told me : "So, Richard must be the happiest man in Bali right now," ... I said "No, no! My Dad is the happiest man in Bali!" When Kah Mun looked confused, I explained to her that my Dad had been waiting for this day to come for the last 10 years or so. I think the part about him sighing every so often and laments that his friends were enjoying grandparenthood should be kept for a whole chapter by itself. But he always said he's happy to be "rid of the responsibility" and now I am someone else's responsibility. Hahaha. I do not believe him.
Well, there were many a thing which the family wanted me to do for my wedding and in a way, I kinda didn't get a 100% of the wedding that I truly wanted. I voiced out my frustration in an email in which my Dad actually responded (he never really writes anything - too lazy) in a long reply mail - to sum up, he said he definitely wanted me to have the happiest wedding of my life.
And then when I had my KL reception and my Ah Por said she didn't want to come because her legs were giving her trouble - the only person I knew to call was my Dad (told you, he was the go-to person in troubles like these!). I called him in tears, sobbing and telling him that Ah Por wasn't going to come for my wedding (I had initially threatened that if both my Grandmas didn't show up for my KL reception, I wouldn't either :P) - and you know, even through the phone, I could sense my Dad's utter dilemma, I could hear his heart aching for me, over the situation. He had a crying bride in his hands! (or he could just be worried that I would do a no-show in KL - which I was fully capable of :P). But remember what I said about my Dad being a problem-solver? And exactly as per the role of my hero, he made arrangements so that Ah Por came for my KL reception. I was elated! And he truly lived up to his words - that he wanted me to have the happiest wedding of my life.
One of the "symbolical rituals" in a Chinese wedding ceremony was the father of the bride sheltering the bride out of the house with an umbrella. Whilst I modernized my wedding and scrapped away all these rituals, I was glad my Dad insisted on doing this - and carrying the umbrella all the way to Bali even. For this ritual symbolized that the Father, will forever be protecting the daughter, no matter what. That umbrella went missing for a few minutes - which sent my Dad into a frenzy, searching for it. I cannot remember who was responsible to help him keep the umbrella - but had the umbrella really gone missing that day, I think that person would be dead meat.
Life for me, wouldn't be the same without my Dad being around and like for every other person I love, I pray that he be around forever and ever and ever.
My Mommy
(a working draft of my novel : "Growing Up A Chinese Daughter")
You know, it is a bit of a challenge to write about my Mom and my Dad individually. Why? Because to me, despite seeing them through all their ups and downs, they are like a match made in heaven (though, I think my Mom might protest against this statement). Very literally speaking - one is half-blind and the other is half-deaf. They need each other! Although they've only had a short 6-month courtship before tying the knot, they are going to be celebrating their 34th year anniversary this December. Writing about them as a couple would probably take up a few chapters! But I did get the very best of both their genes. Thank God for that!
Anyway, I'll start off with my dear Mommy. She's been off the government work-force for the past 10 years. And since then, she's been getting younger and hippier (got rid of her 'teacher's looks' and wardrobe) and *gasp* also becoming a party animal. Some weekend nights, she'd come back at wee hours in the morning! Jokes aside, she's taken her retirement in a very positive stride. Whilst she still works as a home tuition teacher, she has been keeping herself busy with line-dancing and all the parties that come with it.
When they say that grandchildren are the grandparents' best revenge, I'm not sure how far it rings true for my Mom. You see, as far as I've known and heard, my Mom had been a very, very well-behaved child when she was young. None of those teenage rebellion or angst or going out with a string of boys. Por Por and Kung Kung never had problems with her (or not that I know of!). Unlike me, who came into this world after a five-day delay, and being a bundle of joy..... and then as I grew up, gave her an abundance of heartache and stress... and not to mention, heart-attacks too.
My Mom has sacrificed a lot for the family. She may not be perfect, but she is without a doubt, a 1000% excellent wife and mother. Dad & I usually tease her and call her the "robot" at home because she seems to work non-stop. There's always some cooking, ironing, mopping, sweeping, etc... to be done around the house. Whilst Dad is an extremely lucky husband, we are extremely lucky children because all our needs are taken care of. So much so that even after the age of 30, my brother and I are refusing to leave the nest - much to Dad's chagrin. Mom loves doting upon us - even though she complains and nags. But Dad, on the other hand, wants Mom to fully concentrate on him instead! Now that I am married and little brother is working overseas, I'm pretty sure he's enjoying all the attention from Mom :)
She always made sure we had food on the table, favourite snacks in the fridge, clean clothes ironed to perfection, clean bedsheets, clean towels, medication when we traveled, basically, everything. It's quite funny because as kids, we had to do household chores. In fact, Mom sometimes stood there with a cane and bionic eyes to ensure we didn't do a shoddy job! (and I truly resented that!) But when we started working, she somehow reclaimed all the household chores. Yippee!! But it was thanks to the years of being walloped to do proper household chores that I could live independently when I went abroad. When I was studying in Australia, I saw some of my friends struggling with their laundry - and as I handwashed my bedsheet because I didn't want to put AUS2 into the washing machine since I was on a meagre allowance - I expressed gratitude in my heart - that I knew how to do something like this (and I swore that when I grew up, I never ever want to do my own household chores :P).
Mom is the type who remembers everyone's birthday, special occasions, exam dates, school activities time-table, wake-up times (Dad, bro and I all had different wake-up timing and she was our alarm clock back then!), meal times, tuition times, homework deadlines - I'm surprised she never kept a time-table for herself back then. She simply just remembers and made sure we got everything done. In this aspect - it is where she truly spoils us, whereas Dad has a more pragmatic approach. He always said "They have hands and legs - they can look after themselves! If they are hungry, they'll fix their own meal to eat!" Mom would tirelessly chauffeur us to our school activities or friends' birthday parties while Dad would ask if we had fought with the public bus driver. If we had to walk somewhere, Mom would be heartachingly sorry because the sun was too hot, or it might rain whereas Dad would say "It builds character." So one could pretty much see - we grew up with a very good balance in our lives :)
One very funny vivid memory I have of my Mom being that 1000% dedicated Mom was when I was working as an account executive in an ad agency. My Mom was still teaching then. She was still my alarm clock, you know, even though I could very well set my own alarm clock. See, she went to school at 7am in the morning and classes started at 7.30am. I did not need to get up till 8am to get to work by 8.30am. She would sneak out from class to call me from the public phone from her school (back then, she didn't know how to use a mobile phone!) and then knowing I would fall straight back asleep, she would call me again ten minutes later to make sure I was up. Much like that "snooze" button on your alarm clock! When Dad found out what my Mom was doing (because Mom was always worried about not being able to sneak out from class), he chucked a ball. Here's what he said - "If she is late for work, then let her face the music! She has to learn somewhere and somehow!!" She continued being my alarm clock until I got posted to Jakarta :) Now, do you see how dedicated she is? If I were a mother, would I do the same? Without hesitation - NO. My convenience takes precedent :P
Mom is a worry-wart. She worries about everything and she would be extremely stressed-out if not panicked-stricken. I learnt from an early age - she wasn't the go-to person if you're in any trouble that wasn't of the female-kind, know what I mean? If you were in jail (not that I ever was!!) or in a bad accident or in trouble with the law or anything like these sorts - never go to Mom. One of the reasons my Dad wanted us to get out of the house now that we're of age was because Mom never got a good night's sleep when we were around. Even though we no longer had curfews and could very well get home whatever time we wanted, she would still worry when we were not back home. And this, greatly disturbed Dad's sleep. (I'm writing this and I am laughing). If I wrote an email back home to say that I am ill, she would worry for days too. If she didn't hear from my brother, she would worry as well. Needless to say, if I called home crying, I think she would be hospitalized!
Now, don't take that as a sign that my Mom is weak. She certainly isn't. She is a saliently strong woman. She tirelessly strives to make sure everyone else's lives are better. Sure, she complains and complains - but she never shrugs from this responsibility. She took it upon herself that it was her responsibility - and she does it to perfection. Sometimes, doing more than what is required of her - in which, my Dad would call her a "stubborn bonehead". Out of all the family members that I love so deeply, I know for a fact that my Mom is the most reliable person. Unless of course, you are being attacked by snakes - then, sorry, you're definitely on your own because my Mom would already be dead should a snake so much as look at her!
Out of the two of them, Mom is sometimes, the easier one to take for granted. Not sure why. Sometimes, things just cannot be explained! But you see, whilst she may be "half-blind", has a terrible affinity to anything to do with electronics, computers and technology (if the tire is out flat, she'll be in a real fix) and would have a seizure if the 'slithery things' got near her, she is totally independent and strong and just as much as she takes care of all of us so well, she will also be able to take care of herself. Or at least, that is the impression and perception that my brother and I have.
It is my Dad I worry about - should *touch wood* Mom no longer be around because Dad wouldn't be so well-taken care of without Mom around! Right now, all he needs to do is make a remark like "Hmmm... it is 3pm already.... it is time for what? You know?" And automatically, Mom will make him a cup of coffee. Or he would just sit at the dining table and say "Coffee time!" and magically, a cup of coffee would appear in front of "His Royal Highness" as my Mom sometimes called him. Mom knows all of our favourite foods / fruits / snacks / drinks..... but we are not very sure what she likes. She's not fussy with her food and mostly, she eats whatever we all do not finish. Except for pineapple and jackfruit, I'm not even sure what her favourite meal is! I'm sure my Dad has not a clue either :P Get this even - my Dad once commented recently when he observed me being a wife to my husband - he said "You must learn to be like your Mom, you know, take care of the husband very well." He forgets sometimes, that I am his daughter :P
We didn't come from a well-to-do family. I mean, they were both "non-graduate" government school teachers. The non-graduate part set their salary scale on a different note - one that is lower than their younger "graduate" counterparts, which I personally think is bollocks. Anyway, since I was a kid, I saw Mom as the strong family figurehead who made sure we had the best in life. I had taekwondo lessons, piano lessons, a trip to KFC or Mickey D's once in a while - you know, Mom & Dad would take us to Mickey D's and then they left us there to enjoy our burgers and fries while they went to some streetside hawker to have cheap noodles. This memory always reminds me of the sacrifices my parents had made for me. Which is why, now that I'm pretty okay with my finances, I like taking them out for meals at expensive places or with unique food experiences.
Of all the skill-sets I have today, the one that I am most thankful to my Mom for is my writing abilities (ok, some may snort at my writing "abilities" but whatever!). She instilled the habit of reading and writing in me since I was in pre-school and I've never looked back. Parents - be careful what you instil in your child as it may come back to bite you in the butt. Like the time she caught me reading my Enid Blytons with a torchlight even though I was supposed to be sleeping and in any case, was only allowed to read them after my exams. Or the times I wrote letters to my Mom because I couldn't argue with her verbally - which she commented : "I cannot write like you. Your words are sharp." Ouch.
But seriously - she would make me write about my holidays on those exam foolscap papers (which teachers do steal from school :P) and she would sit next to me and made sure I did it well and properly. Till this day, I always write about my holiday trips. My first ever article in The Star's 'Starchild' column was about Mooncake Festival and something my Mom encouraged me to write on - and then encouraged me to submit to The Star. After I finished Form Five, I was a stringer for NST for awhile and every piece that I had written - my Mom cut them out and collected them in a scrapbook. Now, I'm also a published writer with Silverfish Books. I did wonder though, if she saw my talent as a kid and decided to hone my talents, or was it just something she drew out of me?
Over the many, many years, my Mom and I have had a rather turbulent relationship. Most of the time, we don't see eye-to-eye. I hated her nagging, her rigid way of doing things, her easily-panicked ways - but most of all, I think I am baffled by how perfect and dedicated she is as a mother and as a wife! Sometimes, I just want her to go abit crazy and instead of doing the dishes, leave it in the sink for one night! (she'd rather die first than to do that, I reckon). But you know, we do share a great many happy, and I really mean, a great many laughing moments, happy moments and joyous moments together. One of the great things about her is her great sense of humour and wit. And eversince she stopped being a school teacher, she is a lot more open-minded too!
They say that 98% of females grow up to be their mothers. OMG. I do already have some of her genes in me. I'd like to think I'm hardworking like her, I'm intelligent like her and I'm strong like her. She is also very inclined towards arts, language, culture, music - which I too, follow suit. Unfortunately, I also have a very bad sense of direction like her and I hate mental calculations - just like her and we both have very bad logical-thinking sense too. If not because of the era in which I was born in, I'd probably be a technology-idiot, just like her! I suppose, when the genes were passed on, I didn't get to choose :P
But eversince I got married, I am relating to my Mom a lot more, because before this, I had only been a daughter. Now, I am also a wife and a daughter-in-law. It took a long time for me to decide to finally tie the knot because I saw the many, many, many sacrifices she had to make as a wife and as I said - the perfection in which she carries out her duties. And would I want to be a mother to further relate to her more? Read above : Grandchildren are grandparents' best revenge. The answer is NO, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
But I sure as hell hope Mom would be around forever. For so many reasons, including - importantly, to take care of my Dad! But mostly, because I know I will miss her as I always do when I don't see her.
You know, it is a bit of a challenge to write about my Mom and my Dad individually. Why? Because to me, despite seeing them through all their ups and downs, they are like a match made in heaven (though, I think my Mom might protest against this statement). Very literally speaking - one is half-blind and the other is half-deaf. They need each other! Although they've only had a short 6-month courtship before tying the knot, they are going to be celebrating their 34th year anniversary this December. Writing about them as a couple would probably take up a few chapters! But I did get the very best of both their genes. Thank God for that!Anyway, I'll start off with my dear Mommy. She's been off the government work-force for the past 10 years. And since then, she's been getting younger and hippier (got rid of her 'teacher's looks' and wardrobe) and *gasp* also becoming a party animal. Some weekend nights, she'd come back at wee hours in the morning! Jokes aside, she's taken her retirement in a very positive stride. Whilst she still works as a home tuition teacher, she has been keeping herself busy with line-dancing and all the parties that come with it.
When they say that grandchildren are the grandparents' best revenge, I'm not sure how far it rings true for my Mom. You see, as far as I've known and heard, my Mom had been a very, very well-behaved child when she was young. None of those teenage rebellion or angst or going out with a string of boys. Por Por and Kung Kung never had problems with her (or not that I know of!). Unlike me, who came into this world after a five-day delay, and being a bundle of joy..... and then as I grew up, gave her an abundance of heartache and stress... and not to mention, heart-attacks too.
My Mom has sacrificed a lot for the family. She may not be perfect, but she is without a doubt, a 1000% excellent wife and mother. Dad & I usually tease her and call her the "robot" at home because she seems to work non-stop. There's always some cooking, ironing, mopping, sweeping, etc... to be done around the house. Whilst Dad is an extremely lucky husband, we are extremely lucky children because all our needs are taken care of. So much so that even after the age of 30, my brother and I are refusing to leave the nest - much to Dad's chagrin. Mom loves doting upon us - even though she complains and nags. But Dad, on the other hand, wants Mom to fully concentrate on him instead! Now that I am married and little brother is working overseas, I'm pretty sure he's enjoying all the attention from Mom :)
She always made sure we had food on the table, favourite snacks in the fridge, clean clothes ironed to perfection, clean bedsheets, clean towels, medication when we traveled, basically, everything. It's quite funny because as kids, we had to do household chores. In fact, Mom sometimes stood there with a cane and bionic eyes to ensure we didn't do a shoddy job! (and I truly resented that!) But when we started working, she somehow reclaimed all the household chores. Yippee!! But it was thanks to the years of being walloped to do proper household chores that I could live independently when I went abroad. When I was studying in Australia, I saw some of my friends struggling with their laundry - and as I handwashed my bedsheet because I didn't want to put AUS2 into the washing machine since I was on a meagre allowance - I expressed gratitude in my heart - that I knew how to do something like this (and I swore that when I grew up, I never ever want to do my own household chores :P).
Mom is the type who remembers everyone's birthday, special occasions, exam dates, school activities time-table, wake-up times (Dad, bro and I all had different wake-up timing and she was our alarm clock back then!), meal times, tuition times, homework deadlines - I'm surprised she never kept a time-table for herself back then. She simply just remembers and made sure we got everything done. In this aspect - it is where she truly spoils us, whereas Dad has a more pragmatic approach. He always said "They have hands and legs - they can look after themselves! If they are hungry, they'll fix their own meal to eat!" Mom would tirelessly chauffeur us to our school activities or friends' birthday parties while Dad would ask if we had fought with the public bus driver. If we had to walk somewhere, Mom would be heartachingly sorry because the sun was too hot, or it might rain whereas Dad would say "It builds character." So one could pretty much see - we grew up with a very good balance in our lives :)
One very funny vivid memory I have of my Mom being that 1000% dedicated Mom was when I was working as an account executive in an ad agency. My Mom was still teaching then. She was still my alarm clock, you know, even though I could very well set my own alarm clock. See, she went to school at 7am in the morning and classes started at 7.30am. I did not need to get up till 8am to get to work by 8.30am. She would sneak out from class to call me from the public phone from her school (back then, she didn't know how to use a mobile phone!) and then knowing I would fall straight back asleep, she would call me again ten minutes later to make sure I was up. Much like that "snooze" button on your alarm clock! When Dad found out what my Mom was doing (because Mom was always worried about not being able to sneak out from class), he chucked a ball. Here's what he said - "If she is late for work, then let her face the music! She has to learn somewhere and somehow!!" She continued being my alarm clock until I got posted to Jakarta :) Now, do you see how dedicated she is? If I were a mother, would I do the same? Without hesitation - NO. My convenience takes precedent :P
Mom is a worry-wart. She worries about everything and she would be extremely stressed-out if not panicked-stricken. I learnt from an early age - she wasn't the go-to person if you're in any trouble that wasn't of the female-kind, know what I mean? If you were in jail (not that I ever was!!) or in a bad accident or in trouble with the law or anything like these sorts - never go to Mom. One of the reasons my Dad wanted us to get out of the house now that we're of age was because Mom never got a good night's sleep when we were around. Even though we no longer had curfews and could very well get home whatever time we wanted, she would still worry when we were not back home. And this, greatly disturbed Dad's sleep. (I'm writing this and I am laughing). If I wrote an email back home to say that I am ill, she would worry for days too. If she didn't hear from my brother, she would worry as well. Needless to say, if I called home crying, I think she would be hospitalized!
Now, don't take that as a sign that my Mom is weak. She certainly isn't. She is a saliently strong woman. She tirelessly strives to make sure everyone else's lives are better. Sure, she complains and complains - but she never shrugs from this responsibility. She took it upon herself that it was her responsibility - and she does it to perfection. Sometimes, doing more than what is required of her - in which, my Dad would call her a "stubborn bonehead". Out of all the family members that I love so deeply, I know for a fact that my Mom is the most reliable person. Unless of course, you are being attacked by snakes - then, sorry, you're definitely on your own because my Mom would already be dead should a snake so much as look at her!
Out of the two of them, Mom is sometimes, the easier one to take for granted. Not sure why. Sometimes, things just cannot be explained! But you see, whilst she may be "half-blind", has a terrible affinity to anything to do with electronics, computers and technology (if the tire is out flat, she'll be in a real fix) and would have a seizure if the 'slithery things' got near her, she is totally independent and strong and just as much as she takes care of all of us so well, she will also be able to take care of herself. Or at least, that is the impression and perception that my brother and I have.
It is my Dad I worry about - should *touch wood* Mom no longer be around because Dad wouldn't be so well-taken care of without Mom around! Right now, all he needs to do is make a remark like "Hmmm... it is 3pm already.... it is time for what? You know?" And automatically, Mom will make him a cup of coffee. Or he would just sit at the dining table and say "Coffee time!" and magically, a cup of coffee would appear in front of "His Royal Highness" as my Mom sometimes called him. Mom knows all of our favourite foods / fruits / snacks / drinks..... but we are not very sure what she likes. She's not fussy with her food and mostly, she eats whatever we all do not finish. Except for pineapple and jackfruit, I'm not even sure what her favourite meal is! I'm sure my Dad has not a clue either :P Get this even - my Dad once commented recently when he observed me being a wife to my husband - he said "You must learn to be like your Mom, you know, take care of the husband very well." He forgets sometimes, that I am his daughter :P
We didn't come from a well-to-do family. I mean, they were both "non-graduate" government school teachers. The non-graduate part set their salary scale on a different note - one that is lower than their younger "graduate" counterparts, which I personally think is bollocks. Anyway, since I was a kid, I saw Mom as the strong family figurehead who made sure we had the best in life. I had taekwondo lessons, piano lessons, a trip to KFC or Mickey D's once in a while - you know, Mom & Dad would take us to Mickey D's and then they left us there to enjoy our burgers and fries while they went to some streetside hawker to have cheap noodles. This memory always reminds me of the sacrifices my parents had made for me. Which is why, now that I'm pretty okay with my finances, I like taking them out for meals at expensive places or with unique food experiences.
Of all the skill-sets I have today, the one that I am most thankful to my Mom for is my writing abilities (ok, some may snort at my writing "abilities" but whatever!). She instilled the habit of reading and writing in me since I was in pre-school and I've never looked back. Parents - be careful what you instil in your child as it may come back to bite you in the butt. Like the time she caught me reading my Enid Blytons with a torchlight even though I was supposed to be sleeping and in any case, was only allowed to read them after my exams. Or the times I wrote letters to my Mom because I couldn't argue with her verbally - which she commented : "I cannot write like you. Your words are sharp." Ouch.
But seriously - she would make me write about my holidays on those exam foolscap papers (which teachers do steal from school :P) and she would sit next to me and made sure I did it well and properly. Till this day, I always write about my holiday trips. My first ever article in The Star's 'Starchild' column was about Mooncake Festival and something my Mom encouraged me to write on - and then encouraged me to submit to The Star. After I finished Form Five, I was a stringer for NST for awhile and every piece that I had written - my Mom cut them out and collected them in a scrapbook. Now, I'm also a published writer with Silverfish Books. I did wonder though, if she saw my talent as a kid and decided to hone my talents, or was it just something she drew out of me?
Over the many, many years, my Mom and I have had a rather turbulent relationship. Most of the time, we don't see eye-to-eye. I hated her nagging, her rigid way of doing things, her easily-panicked ways - but most of all, I think I am baffled by how perfect and dedicated she is as a mother and as a wife! Sometimes, I just want her to go abit crazy and instead of doing the dishes, leave it in the sink for one night! (she'd rather die first than to do that, I reckon). But you know, we do share a great many happy, and I really mean, a great many laughing moments, happy moments and joyous moments together. One of the great things about her is her great sense of humour and wit. And eversince she stopped being a school teacher, she is a lot more open-minded too!
They say that 98% of females grow up to be their mothers. OMG. I do already have some of her genes in me. I'd like to think I'm hardworking like her, I'm intelligent like her and I'm strong like her. She is also very inclined towards arts, language, culture, music - which I too, follow suit. Unfortunately, I also have a very bad sense of direction like her and I hate mental calculations - just like her and we both have very bad logical-thinking sense too. If not because of the era in which I was born in, I'd probably be a technology-idiot, just like her! I suppose, when the genes were passed on, I didn't get to choose :P
But eversince I got married, I am relating to my Mom a lot more, because before this, I had only been a daughter. Now, I am also a wife and a daughter-in-law. It took a long time for me to decide to finally tie the knot because I saw the many, many, many sacrifices she had to make as a wife and as I said - the perfection in which she carries out her duties. And would I want to be a mother to further relate to her more? Read above : Grandchildren are grandparents' best revenge. The answer is NO, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
But I sure as hell hope Mom would be around forever. For so many reasons, including - importantly, to take care of my Dad! But mostly, because I know I will miss her as I always do when I don't see her.
Monday, June 7, 2010
My Ah Kung and Kung Kung
(a working draft of my novel : "Growing Up A Chinese Daughter")
I was just thinking yesterday that I should write about my two grandpas - even though I had already written about them before. And then, I decided, maybe I shouldn't go down that road twice.
It had always been very difficult for me to accept them passing on and then it was also very difficult for me to get over the fact that .... they are only all there is in my memory.
I had been a very blessed child - I knew the absolute love (and a lot of attention!) of a great-grandmother, two grandpas and two grandmas, both my parents and an entire family of uncles and aunties. I used to find it so bizarre when friends told me they only have one grandparent or they didn't have any grandparents, etc.... and it was then, that I knew, I was a lucky, lucky girl indeed! I had a full set of grandparents from both my maternal and paternal side who doted upon me.
When Kung Kung passed away in 1993, it was the school holidays. He had suffered a stroke at the beginning of the year and then later diagnosed with liver cancer. He spent his last days in the hospital. I remembered when his situation took a turn for the worse - my parents had left my brother and I at home. And then they called back asking us to lock up properly and not wait for them as they will not be back. I took it as a very bad sign - and once again - the "adults" thought it inappropriate to keep the "children" informed. After I put down the phone - I thought, this is bullshit! I am going to see Kung Kung - at least one last time!
It was 10.30pm. I turned around and told my brother - who was then 12 years old - "I'm going to call for a taxi and I am going to the hospital to see Kung Kung. Are you coming?" A few seconds of hesitation and then he said yes. And so, I searched my Mom's phone directory (the dirty pink suede-covered one) for the number to the taxi company and within fifteen minutes, the taxi arrived. The taxi driver must've been in quite a dilemma - a tearful girl and a young boy looking glum were getting into his taxi. I told the taxi driver to take us to Tung Shin Hospital. I guess that should explain everything to him. When we arrived, I saw the metre was RM13.70. I pulled out a crumpled piece of RM10 and told the driver that it was all I've got. He said no problem and we got off the taxi.
We went to the reception and asked the nurse for Kung Kung's room. When we got it, we went to the nearest lift and up we went to the room. My parents were in shock to see us. And there, I saw Kung Kung, suffering. Even as I write now, I'm in tears. My beloved, jovial Kung Kung.....
Anyway, the "adults" once again, decided that there was no need for the "children" to stay. My Dad took us home, promising that we'll come back first thing in the morning. That night, I stayed up the whole night and prayed and prayed and prayed. I didn't ask for much. I just asked for a miracle - to take away my Kung Kung's pain and make him healthy again. I never got my wish. And I had never again prayed so hard in my life thus far. And I never made it to the hospital on time to see Kung Kung for the last time.
With Ah Kung, it was totally unexpected. Which made it worse. It was March 2004 - the Formula 1 weekend, as well as the general elections weekend. I was supposed to go cast my vote for the first time ever, and then go to the F1 circuit to watch the race. The phone call came at 5am or close to 6am. Usually, when you get a phone call that early in the morning, it isn't good news. I heard the phone ring and then I sat up on my bed. I had a very bad feeling already. And then, my Dad called me on my cell phone (yes, funny) and asked me to go downstairs. I remember sitting on the second last step of the staircase at home when my Dad told me that Ah Kung had passed away in his sleep.
Oh, I felt my heart breaking. I wanted it to be some idiotically bad joke. But it wasn't. I didn't get to see Ah Kung for even a last time. The last time I saw him was when I went back to the kampung for the weekend and took him out for lunch - which he didn't finish because I accidentally got something spicy for him and he was coughing terribly because of the chilli. And then he didn't want to go out for dinner so I packed dinner for him - which he did finish hungrily. I didn't get to say goodbye. I did say bye-bye, when I left the kampung house, but I took it for granted that I would certainly see him again.
After Ah Kung passed away, I actually went back to the kampung a lot more frequently. In a way, I felt like he was there. I am now occupying his old room. It is now my room. I'm pretty sure Ah Kung would like me to have it.
I'm not one who takes the passing on of loved ones easily. I cannot begin to describe the pain I feel knowing I will no longer be able to see them again. But people always say - "life must go on". Yes, it does. But just as life goes on, so too does all the feelings and emotions. Isn't it? I've even been so afraid of that painful feeling of losing a loved one that I had selfishly made a wish to ensure that I be "gone" before anyone of my loved ones do. Of course, I know all about the making it count while they are all still around. I do. And which is why I practise this simple concept : never go to bed angry with someone you love.
Not wishing to end this piece on a bad note with red eyes, I do remember both Kung Kung and Ah Kung with fond memories. I miss them dearly everyday. And I know that the day I got married - they were up there in heaven saying "Phew.... Finally.....!"
I was just thinking yesterday that I should write about my two grandpas - even though I had already written about them before. And then, I decided, maybe I shouldn't go down that road twice.
It had always been very difficult for me to accept them passing on and then it was also very difficult for me to get over the fact that .... they are only all there is in my memory.
I had been a very blessed child - I knew the absolute love (and a lot of attention!) of a great-grandmother, two grandpas and two grandmas, both my parents and an entire family of uncles and aunties. I used to find it so bizarre when friends told me they only have one grandparent or they didn't have any grandparents, etc.... and it was then, that I knew, I was a lucky, lucky girl indeed! I had a full set of grandparents from both my maternal and paternal side who doted upon me.
When Kung Kung passed away in 1993, it was the school holidays. He had suffered a stroke at the beginning of the year and then later diagnosed with liver cancer. He spent his last days in the hospital. I remembered when his situation took a turn for the worse - my parents had left my brother and I at home. And then they called back asking us to lock up properly and not wait for them as they will not be back. I took it as a very bad sign - and once again - the "adults" thought it inappropriate to keep the "children" informed. After I put down the phone - I thought, this is bullshit! I am going to see Kung Kung - at least one last time!
It was 10.30pm. I turned around and told my brother - who was then 12 years old - "I'm going to call for a taxi and I am going to the hospital to see Kung Kung. Are you coming?" A few seconds of hesitation and then he said yes. And so, I searched my Mom's phone directory (the dirty pink suede-covered one) for the number to the taxi company and within fifteen minutes, the taxi arrived. The taxi driver must've been in quite a dilemma - a tearful girl and a young boy looking glum were getting into his taxi. I told the taxi driver to take us to Tung Shin Hospital. I guess that should explain everything to him. When we arrived, I saw the metre was RM13.70. I pulled out a crumpled piece of RM10 and told the driver that it was all I've got. He said no problem and we got off the taxi.
We went to the reception and asked the nurse for Kung Kung's room. When we got it, we went to the nearest lift and up we went to the room. My parents were in shock to see us. And there, I saw Kung Kung, suffering. Even as I write now, I'm in tears. My beloved, jovial Kung Kung.....
Anyway, the "adults" once again, decided that there was no need for the "children" to stay. My Dad took us home, promising that we'll come back first thing in the morning. That night, I stayed up the whole night and prayed and prayed and prayed. I didn't ask for much. I just asked for a miracle - to take away my Kung Kung's pain and make him healthy again. I never got my wish. And I had never again prayed so hard in my life thus far. And I never made it to the hospital on time to see Kung Kung for the last time.
With Ah Kung, it was totally unexpected. Which made it worse. It was March 2004 - the Formula 1 weekend, as well as the general elections weekend. I was supposed to go cast my vote for the first time ever, and then go to the F1 circuit to watch the race. The phone call came at 5am or close to 6am. Usually, when you get a phone call that early in the morning, it isn't good news. I heard the phone ring and then I sat up on my bed. I had a very bad feeling already. And then, my Dad called me on my cell phone (yes, funny) and asked me to go downstairs. I remember sitting on the second last step of the staircase at home when my Dad told me that Ah Kung had passed away in his sleep.
Oh, I felt my heart breaking. I wanted it to be some idiotically bad joke. But it wasn't. I didn't get to see Ah Kung for even a last time. The last time I saw him was when I went back to the kampung for the weekend and took him out for lunch - which he didn't finish because I accidentally got something spicy for him and he was coughing terribly because of the chilli. And then he didn't want to go out for dinner so I packed dinner for him - which he did finish hungrily. I didn't get to say goodbye. I did say bye-bye, when I left the kampung house, but I took it for granted that I would certainly see him again.
After Ah Kung passed away, I actually went back to the kampung a lot more frequently. In a way, I felt like he was there. I am now occupying his old room. It is now my room. I'm pretty sure Ah Kung would like me to have it.
I'm not one who takes the passing on of loved ones easily. I cannot begin to describe the pain I feel knowing I will no longer be able to see them again. But people always say - "life must go on". Yes, it does. But just as life goes on, so too does all the feelings and emotions. Isn't it? I've even been so afraid of that painful feeling of losing a loved one that I had selfishly made a wish to ensure that I be "gone" before anyone of my loved ones do. Of course, I know all about the making it count while they are all still around. I do. And which is why I practise this simple concept : never go to bed angry with someone you love.
Not wishing to end this piece on a bad note with red eyes, I do remember both Kung Kung and Ah Kung with fond memories. I miss them dearly everyday. And I know that the day I got married - they were up there in heaven saying "Phew.... Finally.....!"
My Ah Por
(a working draft of my novel : "Growing Up A Chinese Daughter")
I am extremely close to my Ah Por, eversince I was a kid. I am, after all, the first grandchild for the "Lui" family. And I remained the only grandchild for a good 3 years before my brother came and stole the limelight from me as he then became the first grandSON in the family :P
Whilst my Ku Cher refers to me as my Ah Por's "Sum Korn Ting" (which translates to the apple of my Ah Por's eyes), I have often been scolded and caned by Ah Por when I was a kid. Ah Por is now 83 years old (I only found this out about two months ago when I helped her pack her IC) and the last time she caned me was when I was 8 years old because I stole Marmite and ate till I puked all over the living room. She was baby-sitting me then.
My Ah Por had been a very independent woman. Sadly, she and my late Ah Kung had not gotten along well - even before I was born. It used to baffle me when I saw them sleeping separately. Even though I had all my "why? why? why?" (I was a really annoying kid, I think!) - the adults believed that children were to be seen and not heard. Only much later when I could understand things better, I realized why they slept apart.
When I was a kid, I used to spend my school holidays with Ah Por in the kampung too. Those were one of the happiest memories of my life. Back then, especially in the kampung, kids could run around freely and we played hide-and-seek in each other's houses without needing to get permission. We had swings made out of old rattan chairs hanging from trees, paper planes and paper boats which disintergrated after just one flight or one docking. Where would Ah Por be while I ran around wildly in my kampung freedom (I hated the city for this aspect - that we could never run around so freely)? She would be doing some household chores, or she would be preparing simple lunch and dinner or she would be gambling - her favourite past time.
Ah Por also traveled to KL very often on her own. She would take the train or the bus from Ipoh, and then from the railway station or Pudu Bus Station, she would take a few buses to get to either our place or to my Suk Suk's place. I had on numerous occasions gone on these train and bus rides with her as a kid and I loved it.
I am not so sure why I am so attached to Ah Por, but I just am. She does spoil me silly, even up till now. In fact, with the Lui family, I am known to have everyone twisted around my fingers. Ahhh.. the first few years of being the centre of attention did pay off ;) Anyway, one of my early memories of Ah Por and how much of a grand impression she made upon me as my 'saviour' of sorts was when I was 6 or 7 years old - I was being walloped by my Mom for not practising the piano or something like that and I screamed out "I will call Ah Por and tell her you beat me!!!!!" Needless to say, my Mom was seething after my remark. And there was another time when I was being caned by my Dad (Jeez, I must've been really naughty as a kid for all the canings!!) and my Ah Por shielded me from a few of the rotan strokes. These memories really sealed themselves upon me and cast Ah Por as someone I could turn to when in harm's way. (By harm, I meant from any scolding or caning from my parents :P).
Another fond memory I have of Ah Por was one Chinese New Year and due to water rationing at the kampung, we had no water for many days. Finally, we had no choice but to get water from the nearby river. We all had to carry pails of water back to the house - and it was a good 1km - 2km walk. I was 18 then, and totally behaving like a 'princess' and was struggling with my pail of water. Ah Por came over to me and said "Haiya, look at you! Didn't eat rice that's why! Move away!" and then she put me to shame by carrying my pail and her pail of water back to the house. That was how I knew Ah Por was a very strong woman despite her age!
Ah Por also was the creator of Stinky - my best friend in bed, my one and only busuk pau. She made Stinky for me back when I was 5 years old. I still sleep with Stinky up till today. She used to tease me, that I would still be carrying the sorry looking pillow when I get married. And then, the day came and her words became true. I did get married with Stinky in tow :P Ah Por was also a good seamstress - she made all these patchwork - and I had a blanket (which is now being used by my Ku Cher) made from patchwork by my Ah Por for me.
Ah Por was the greatest Zhung Zai (gluttinous rice dumplings) maker in the world. And the "Lui" family members - we all love Zhung Zai - but ONLY those made by Ah Por. In 2007, I went back to the kampung during the Zung Zai Festival and tried to learn the art of making Zhung Zai from my Ah Por. Alas...... the art is lost on me! I couldn't even wrap the Zhung Zai correctly - preferring to wrap it the "Eileen Style" - which Ah Por pointed, was something I did as a kid when I used to help her wrap Zhung Zai too. She always called me "Ting Nga Yi" - which simply means crazy - because I just liked doing things differently! Like when rolling the Tong Yuen (gluttinous rice balls), I would make worm-shaped ones instead of the round balls. I also found out from Ku Cher that Ah Por used to make excellent kuih lapis, kuih talam, chee cheong fun and all these yummy snacks. Very unfortunately, I never got to try any of them and she has claimed to have forgotten all of the methods and recipes! 2007 - was the last time Ah Por made Zhung Zai for the family as she has now gotten older and weaker and standing for long hours made her leg painful.
To be honest with you - I do not know a lot about my Ah Por. This is because she doesn't like talking to us about her. She likes talking to us about us. I have bits and pieces of information about her. I know that she isn't from China, unlike my Ah Kung. I know that her hometown is in Kampar. I know she has a lot of sisters and brothers - I do not remember how many. I know that she is a good mahjong player. I know that she used to tap rubber trees. I know that she used to be a cook for a chinese family in Ipoh. I know that she used to smoke Dunhill. I know that she is very superstitious and she is a staunch Taoist. I think that is about it. Whenever I asked her about something I would like to know - her only answer is "I don't remember anymore." As I said, she preferred to regale us with her memories of us as kids or of my Dad and uncles and aunties as kids. Those anecdotes she told me were often very funny - and always repeated :) But I never minded listening to them over and over again. I know she enjoys reminiscing.
Anyway, as I grew older, my bond with Ah Por grew deeper. As I went through life's ups and downs, she would always be around to nag me. I may not confide in her, but she just enjoy lecturing me about life and sometimes, her lecture makes sense and they helped me unwind the knots in my head. When she had finished regaling me with stories from the past, she would sometimes throw in advice - on how to be a better person. This was what I referred to as the "nagging". I may not necessarily heed her advise, but sometimes, they do stick in my head - waiting for the right moment for the light to shine at the end of the tunnel.
Actually, her advice were really simple - work hard, don't be greedy, keep healthy and most importantly, be happy. If you're not happy, it is of no use. But she also said, sometimes, even if we were not happy, we still had to get the job done. We should not give up so easily. Then it goes back to the "working hard" advise. I take all these to heart. As I said, I may not heed them - but when the time is right, they somehow become useful. She also tells me to be a good wife now that I am married. Mostly, she says "Don't bully your husband." Which is really quite funny. I'll tell you this, whilst my family would advise me not to bully my husband, should they find out that my husband is bullying me - he's dead meat :P
I was glad that I finally granted her one of her wishes - to see me get married. The only reason I had one reception in the kampung was for Ah Por. Just ill-luck, that 2 weeks before the wedding, she fell and broke her leg and as such, could not potter around to fuss over my wedding. But when I asked if she was happy, she said "Happy, of course happy!" and thus, I was happy. Now, she wants great-grandchildren! Oh dear.
As far as I know, Ah Por had never made any demands or anything like that. She believes that the young people have our own lives to lead and we need to get on with our lives. She always tells me not to worry about her. She would say "I am an old person. Why do you need to worry about me? You are young. You need to worry about yourself, your diet, your work. Make sure you are happy, ok?" If she was ill, she would choose not to tell anyone - except perhaps, my Sam Suk (who is still single) and Sai Ku Cher, both of whom see her everyday. She would ask them not to tell the rest of us in case we got worried and drove all the way to Ipoh to look in on her. Yet, I know when the whole family is back to celebrate CNY with her, she is very, very happy. She told me once - as long as she sees that everyone is healthy and happy, then she is happy too.
She had not travelled anywhere else and the only time she set foot outside of Malaysia was when I took her for the Star Cruise holiday to Phuket. It was extremely enjoyable and she was very cute throughout the whole trip! The first thing she said when we boarded was "Wahh.... why so many gwai los one?" And then I made her try everything on the buffet line, including raw oysters, caviar and champagne - which she said she just swallowed it whole cos it was so yucky looking! She roamed around the cruise on her own and took photos with sailors and crews! And then she was even doing the Chicken Dance on the night of the farewell party organized by the Captain of the cruise! She was just so sporting! Why a cruise, you ask? Because Ah Por refused to take the plane. As such - she missed my graduation in Australia and she missed my wedding in Bali too!
She does not make demands for money, but yet, we all try to give her whatever we can afford. During festivities when we were back at the kampung, she would use these monies to buy all the good "york choy" and double boil them for the whole family to drink. The rest of her savings would be spent on prayer items and gambling on mahjong or 4D.
Speaking of prayer items - Ah Por is the only one in the house who knows exactly what to do, what prayer items to lay out, how to fold the paper items, what is the first step, second step, third... right down to the last step. Now that she is getting older and weaker, and with her leg not fully healed, I try to help her do the prayers. But you know what? I only do it once a year. I can never remember all the steps. Come the following year, she still has to guide me through it.
Although I have made notes and taken picture references of what to do during the prayers, I think my mind subconsciously rejects keeping it in mind because I want Ah Por to be there every year to guide me through the prayers.
I simply cannot imagine not having her around.
Whilst my Ku Cher refers to me as my Ah Por's "Sum Korn Ting" (which translates to the apple of my Ah Por's eyes), I have often been scolded and caned by Ah Por when I was a kid. Ah Por is now 83 years old (I only found this out about two months ago when I helped her pack her IC) and the last time she caned me was when I was 8 years old because I stole Marmite and ate till I puked all over the living room. She was baby-sitting me then.
My Ah Por had been a very independent woman. Sadly, she and my late Ah Kung had not gotten along well - even before I was born. It used to baffle me when I saw them sleeping separately. Even though I had all my "why? why? why?" (I was a really annoying kid, I think!) - the adults believed that children were to be seen and not heard. Only much later when I could understand things better, I realized why they slept apart.
When I was a kid, I used to spend my school holidays with Ah Por in the kampung too. Those were one of the happiest memories of my life. Back then, especially in the kampung, kids could run around freely and we played hide-and-seek in each other's houses without needing to get permission. We had swings made out of old rattan chairs hanging from trees, paper planes and paper boats which disintergrated after just one flight or one docking. Where would Ah Por be while I ran around wildly in my kampung freedom (I hated the city for this aspect - that we could never run around so freely)? She would be doing some household chores, or she would be preparing simple lunch and dinner or she would be gambling - her favourite past time.
Ah Por also traveled to KL very often on her own. She would take the train or the bus from Ipoh, and then from the railway station or Pudu Bus Station, she would take a few buses to get to either our place or to my Suk Suk's place. I had on numerous occasions gone on these train and bus rides with her as a kid and I loved it.
I am not so sure why I am so attached to Ah Por, but I just am. She does spoil me silly, even up till now. In fact, with the Lui family, I am known to have everyone twisted around my fingers. Ahhh.. the first few years of being the centre of attention did pay off ;) Anyway, one of my early memories of Ah Por and how much of a grand impression she made upon me as my 'saviour' of sorts was when I was 6 or 7 years old - I was being walloped by my Mom for not practising the piano or something like that and I screamed out "I will call Ah Por and tell her you beat me!!!!!" Needless to say, my Mom was seething after my remark. And there was another time when I was being caned by my Dad (Jeez, I must've been really naughty as a kid for all the canings!!) and my Ah Por shielded me from a few of the rotan strokes. These memories really sealed themselves upon me and cast Ah Por as someone I could turn to when in harm's way. (By harm, I meant from any scolding or caning from my parents :P).
Another fond memory I have of Ah Por was one Chinese New Year and due to water rationing at the kampung, we had no water for many days. Finally, we had no choice but to get water from the nearby river. We all had to carry pails of water back to the house - and it was a good 1km - 2km walk. I was 18 then, and totally behaving like a 'princess' and was struggling with my pail of water. Ah Por came over to me and said "Haiya, look at you! Didn't eat rice that's why! Move away!" and then she put me to shame by carrying my pail and her pail of water back to the house. That was how I knew Ah Por was a very strong woman despite her age!
Ah Por also was the creator of Stinky - my best friend in bed, my one and only busuk pau. She made Stinky for me back when I was 5 years old. I still sleep with Stinky up till today. She used to tease me, that I would still be carrying the sorry looking pillow when I get married. And then, the day came and her words became true. I did get married with Stinky in tow :P Ah Por was also a good seamstress - she made all these patchwork - and I had a blanket (which is now being used by my Ku Cher) made from patchwork by my Ah Por for me.
Ah Por was the greatest Zhung Zai (gluttinous rice dumplings) maker in the world. And the "Lui" family members - we all love Zhung Zai - but ONLY those made by Ah Por. In 2007, I went back to the kampung during the Zung Zai Festival and tried to learn the art of making Zhung Zai from my Ah Por. Alas...... the art is lost on me! I couldn't even wrap the Zhung Zai correctly - preferring to wrap it the "Eileen Style" - which Ah Por pointed, was something I did as a kid when I used to help her wrap Zhung Zai too. She always called me "Ting Nga Yi" - which simply means crazy - because I just liked doing things differently! Like when rolling the Tong Yuen (gluttinous rice balls), I would make worm-shaped ones instead of the round balls. I also found out from Ku Cher that Ah Por used to make excellent kuih lapis, kuih talam, chee cheong fun and all these yummy snacks. Very unfortunately, I never got to try any of them and she has claimed to have forgotten all of the methods and recipes! 2007 - was the last time Ah Por made Zhung Zai for the family as she has now gotten older and weaker and standing for long hours made her leg painful.
To be honest with you - I do not know a lot about my Ah Por. This is because she doesn't like talking to us about her. She likes talking to us about us. I have bits and pieces of information about her. I know that she isn't from China, unlike my Ah Kung. I know that her hometown is in Kampar. I know she has a lot of sisters and brothers - I do not remember how many. I know that she is a good mahjong player. I know that she used to tap rubber trees. I know that she used to be a cook for a chinese family in Ipoh. I know that she used to smoke Dunhill. I know that she is very superstitious and she is a staunch Taoist. I think that is about it. Whenever I asked her about something I would like to know - her only answer is "I don't remember anymore." As I said, she preferred to regale us with her memories of us as kids or of my Dad and uncles and aunties as kids. Those anecdotes she told me were often very funny - and always repeated :) But I never minded listening to them over and over again. I know she enjoys reminiscing.
Anyway, as I grew older, my bond with Ah Por grew deeper. As I went through life's ups and downs, she would always be around to nag me. I may not confide in her, but she just enjoy lecturing me about life and sometimes, her lecture makes sense and they helped me unwind the knots in my head. When she had finished regaling me with stories from the past, she would sometimes throw in advice - on how to be a better person. This was what I referred to as the "nagging". I may not necessarily heed her advise, but sometimes, they do stick in my head - waiting for the right moment for the light to shine at the end of the tunnel.
Actually, her advice were really simple - work hard, don't be greedy, keep healthy and most importantly, be happy. If you're not happy, it is of no use. But she also said, sometimes, even if we were not happy, we still had to get the job done. We should not give up so easily. Then it goes back to the "working hard" advise. I take all these to heart. As I said, I may not heed them - but when the time is right, they somehow become useful. She also tells me to be a good wife now that I am married. Mostly, she says "Don't bully your husband." Which is really quite funny. I'll tell you this, whilst my family would advise me not to bully my husband, should they find out that my husband is bullying me - he's dead meat :P
I was glad that I finally granted her one of her wishes - to see me get married. The only reason I had one reception in the kampung was for Ah Por. Just ill-luck, that 2 weeks before the wedding, she fell and broke her leg and as such, could not potter around to fuss over my wedding. But when I asked if she was happy, she said "Happy, of course happy!" and thus, I was happy. Now, she wants great-grandchildren! Oh dear.
As far as I know, Ah Por had never made any demands or anything like that. She believes that the young people have our own lives to lead and we need to get on with our lives. She always tells me not to worry about her. She would say "I am an old person. Why do you need to worry about me? You are young. You need to worry about yourself, your diet, your work. Make sure you are happy, ok?" If she was ill, she would choose not to tell anyone - except perhaps, my Sam Suk (who is still single) and Sai Ku Cher, both of whom see her everyday. She would ask them not to tell the rest of us in case we got worried and drove all the way to Ipoh to look in on her. Yet, I know when the whole family is back to celebrate CNY with her, she is very, very happy. She told me once - as long as she sees that everyone is healthy and happy, then she is happy too.
She had not travelled anywhere else and the only time she set foot outside of Malaysia was when I took her for the Star Cruise holiday to Phuket. It was extremely enjoyable and she was very cute throughout the whole trip! The first thing she said when we boarded was "Wahh.... why so many gwai los one?" And then I made her try everything on the buffet line, including raw oysters, caviar and champagne - which she said she just swallowed it whole cos it was so yucky looking! She roamed around the cruise on her own and took photos with sailors and crews! And then she was even doing the Chicken Dance on the night of the farewell party organized by the Captain of the cruise! She was just so sporting! Why a cruise, you ask? Because Ah Por refused to take the plane. As such - she missed my graduation in Australia and she missed my wedding in Bali too!
She does not make demands for money, but yet, we all try to give her whatever we can afford. During festivities when we were back at the kampung, she would use these monies to buy all the good "york choy" and double boil them for the whole family to drink. The rest of her savings would be spent on prayer items and gambling on mahjong or 4D.
Speaking of prayer items - Ah Por is the only one in the house who knows exactly what to do, what prayer items to lay out, how to fold the paper items, what is the first step, second step, third... right down to the last step. Now that she is getting older and weaker, and with her leg not fully healed, I try to help her do the prayers. But you know what? I only do it once a year. I can never remember all the steps. Come the following year, she still has to guide me through it.
Although I have made notes and taken picture references of what to do during the prayers, I think my mind subconsciously rejects keeping it in mind because I want Ah Por to be there every year to guide me through the prayers.
I simply cannot imagine not having her around.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
My Por Por
(a working draft of my novel : "Growing Up A Chinese Daughter")
I had written about my Grandpas - after they had passed on. It seemed a tad too late - to let them know how I really felt about them. That they had touched my life in ways that have made me who I am today. The story I wrote about my Kung Kung (maternal grandpa) was published in The Star (1993) and the story I wrote about Ah Kung (paternal grandpa) was read in a Readings session.
As such, I've decided that I would like to write about these great persons whom I am lucky enough to be part of in a family, who are so much a part of my life before it is too late. I'll start with my Por Por (maternal grandma).
You know how it is with old folks from those days. You never get their age correct, for some reason. Remind me to steal a peek at Por Por's IC the next time I get a chance. My Por Por is now confined to a wheelchair and sadly, I am no longer as closed to her as I used to be as a kid.
When I was still in school - right up to my teenage years, most of my school holidays were spent staying over at Por Por's place down in KL. I am pretty sure my Mom was glad I was out of her hair, but mostly - I asked to stay because simply said - I enjoyed myself. I only have very vague memories of the place in Chow Kit - when my great grandmother, Ah Tai was still around. What I recall more was the place near Jalan Tun Razak - which is also Por Por's current address.
Here's how a typical day would be back then :
The entire household would get up as early as 4am in the mornings. My Kung Kung, my Kow Fu, my Ah Yee and of course, my Por Por. My Por Por would send my Kung Kung off to the market to get breakfast for the family (we would each place our orders with Kung Kung - except me. He already knew what my favourite breakfast was and even how I liked it packed!). And he would also shop for the ingredients for that day's lunch and dinner menu.
He would come back with all the items - never missing a single thing from Por Por's list (even though he never took notes) and we would all sit down for morning breakfast together. Sometimes, I would follow Kung Kung out to the market - because it was extremely enjoyable and he would buy extra "goodies" for me - like almond nuts or century eggs - both of which he and I enjoyed very much.
Anyway, after breakfast, everyone would leave for work. And there would only be myself and Por Por left in the house. Por Por was a full-time housewife and from young, I've always observed how she strived to take care of the family and the house without help. She would sweep the floor, mop the floor, hang the laundry outside and wipe dust off the furnitures and displays in the mornings. Then, she would be preparing lunch in the kitchen - while listening to Radio 5's "Chinese Story Time." (Me? I would be doing my homework or reading my book - and I think part of why I enjoyed staying with Por Por was because I escaped doing the household chores at home!). When she was preparing lunch, I would climb onto a stool in the kitchen and watch her. The mincing, slicing, chopping, shredding, frying, stewing, boiling, - everything!.
What I really remember most of my stay with my Por Por was the fabulous home-cooked food she whipped up during my stay. As the "guest-of-honour" during my stays, I got to demand for my favourite dishes! And they were all home-cooked Hakka dishes - which my Por Por specializes in. There's the Cha Chu Yuk, Gu Low Yuk, Yong Tau Foo, and then there's her special Chicken Curry, Assam Fish.... and then my favourite - Minced Dried Shrimp and Belacan fried extra spicy just for me! I could finish two bowls of rice just on this dish alone!
Anyway, I was really fascinated as a kid to watch her do magic in the kitchen. I would be asking so many questions : "Por Por, why you do this? Por Por, why you put this inside? Por Por, why this, Por Por, why that?" But she would patiently explain to me all the 'whys'. Sometimes, she would let me stir whatever she's cooking and I would proudly exclaim that "Look, Por Por! I can cook!" and she would say "So clever."
She would be done by around the same time as when the radio chinese drama ends. And then she would do the ironing. After which - yummy, yummy, lunch is served for me. She would sit and eat with me. She would always tell me when I was a baby, I was so well-behaved when she was baby-sitting me. She says this of both my brother and I till today. After lunch - all I needed to do was to bring my plate over to the sink. She would do the washing (another plus point of staying with Por Por!). And then, I would go back to entertaining myself while she does the laundry.
After that, she would sit on the floor to read the newspaper - Sin Chew Jit Poh (where my Kung Kung was a journalist with) and sometimes, I would ask her what's happening or I would try to point out some chinese characters which I could recognize. And then, she would fall asleep on the floor. Everyday, same time, same spot. When she woke up, she would bring in the clothes and start folding them or starching them. She's the type who made sure even my Kung Kung's boxers are ironed tediously.
And then I would get cartoon TV time while she prepared for dinner. Even though there were leftovers from lunch, she would still make a fresh dish or two for dinner as everyone came home for dinner then. This would be my yummy-yummy round two for the day :) She would also be preparing dinner for Tony, the doggy. She would stew some bones and rice for the dog. (Tony grew up at the Chow Kit house and moved together with the family till he too, passed on, shortly after Kung Kung passed away.... from heartbreak..... )
While I watched cartoons, Kung Kung would get home. And Por Por would come out and fetched his house slippers for him and laid out his home-clothings (white singlet and boxer shorts) for him while he took a shower. And then she would continue to potter around the kitchen. Kung Kung usually took a short nap while waiting for dinner to be served and then I got to eat dinner with Kung Kung. Usually, we would finish dinner before my Ah Yee and Kow Fu got back from work (and sometimes, I would go in for round three with them! I was a growing child then :P) While we were having dinner, Por Por would be feeding Tony. Yes, feeding Tony with a spoon. Again, I would usually watch in fascination at this.
And then, we would all sit to watch the Chinese News on RTM2 (now TV2) in which, there shall be no talking or whispering as my Kung Kung demands absolute silence when he watched the news. After the news - we sat around watching a chinese drama series or some other programmes and then guess what? It would be bed time. For all. That would be barely 9pm. Such was a typical day at Por Por's place.
My Por Por had a very eccentric characteristic. Her sofa set - was not meant to be sat on. Only if guests came. We usually sat on the floor or on some foot stools. Only two persons were allowed to shower in her bathroom - me (I am after all - the guest of honour :P) and Por Por. Even my Kung Kung had to take his shower in the guest bathroom! But when I do shower in her bathroom, I had to make sure that the other half of the bathroom which has the toilet was dry. It's all a little weird - but it didn't affect me very much, so I didn't care.
She and Kung Kung often traveled and they had gone all the way to Disneyland in the US of A. At the age of 60 or so, she was still on roller-coasters and free-fall rides and also had the photos to prove it. She was also quite a glamourous lady - going for hair perms every Sundays - which my Kung Kung took her as she didn't drive nor took the public transport, she had on nail polish and would put on red lipstick when she went out.
She was fierce too. Everyone in the family went by her "rules" (no seating on the sofa, lights off 8pm, morning call at 4am... etc). My Ah Yee used to call her Empress Dowager. But she had never scolded me. Not so much as a spank either. I guess, I never gave her a reason to do so.
Sadly, after Kung Kung passed on in 1993, things somehow took a turn for the worse for her and for the family. My Kung Kung had always been the one taking care of her - doing the marketing, taking her out to perm her hair, etc. I think whilst she was saddened by his passing, she felt helpless without him around and perhaps, just perhaps, resented it a little. Also, at that time, Kow Fu already had a family of his own to take care of and was sometimes unable to accommodate her requests to ferry her for her hair perm or buy an onion. My Ah Yee - sadly, does not drive.
It was this period of time, where I hardly showed up at her place anymore. For me, I was trying to get over my Kung Kung's passing. Visiting the house only reminded me of his absence. And then, I was a little annoyed at the family for fighting over assets and all that. As a "child" - the "adults" felt that it was not in my place to make any comments. Especially so when I am only the grandchild on the daughter's side - which means - I am a "ngoi shuen" - which literally translates to "outside grandchild". All these irked me. As such, I no longer accompanied my parents to Por Por's house for weekend visits. I used to never missed a single weekend. I still made sure I showed up for the big occassions, like Mother's Day or Por Por's birthday.....
From here on - the close bond that I shared with my Por Por slowly, but surely..... fizzled away. One of the last fond remaining memories I had of my Por Por in good health was when she came to send me off at the airport when I went to Australia to finish my degree. And then, Por Por's health went downhill from there. Not rolling downhill, but slowly..... it started, leading right up to her being in a wheelchair now.
And it hadn't helped that Por Por's apparently giving a lot of troubles to my Mom who is trying to take care of her, and giving hell to the maid as well. I hear my Mom lament about these issues a lot. But for whatever reasons - everytime I go visit my Por Por (I would drop by once in a while to look in on her), she would be in her best behaviour. So, I am also at a loss. Because I am not able to see it with my own eyes.
Sometimes, when I do look in on Por Por, my heart would ache. Surely I would feel like shit too - if I am confined to a wheelchair. If you could just imagine - you were traveling the world, riding roller-coasters, going out for hi-teas et al..... and now, you can't even go to the toilet on your own or wear your own clothes...... I do think, she is sometimes difficult because to her - she had lost her dignity. She had never really been independent because my Kung Kung took care of her. And then she's had to live the last 17 years without him - and half of that, in this state of health. I feel very, very sorry for her.
Por Por taught me manners as a child. Through manners, I learnt about respect and dignity.
Por Por has all of my respect - simply because I carry about very fond memories of her from my childhood days and I know she was an excellent wife and housewife. Eccentric, but excellent. My only regret was never taking notes when I was watching her cook - or my life would've turned out quite differently!
But I think, most of all, Por Por deserves to have her dignity - despite the conditions of her health.
As such, I've decided that I would like to write about these great persons whom I am lucky enough to be part of in a family, who are so much a part of my life before it is too late. I'll start with my Por Por (maternal grandma).
You know how it is with old folks from those days. You never get their age correct, for some reason. Remind me to steal a peek at Por Por's IC the next time I get a chance. My Por Por is now confined to a wheelchair and sadly, I am no longer as closed to her as I used to be as a kid.
When I was still in school - right up to my teenage years, most of my school holidays were spent staying over at Por Por's place down in KL. I am pretty sure my Mom was glad I was out of her hair, but mostly - I asked to stay because simply said - I enjoyed myself. I only have very vague memories of the place in Chow Kit - when my great grandmother, Ah Tai was still around. What I recall more was the place near Jalan Tun Razak - which is also Por Por's current address.
Here's how a typical day would be back then :
The entire household would get up as early as 4am in the mornings. My Kung Kung, my Kow Fu, my Ah Yee and of course, my Por Por. My Por Por would send my Kung Kung off to the market to get breakfast for the family (we would each place our orders with Kung Kung - except me. He already knew what my favourite breakfast was and even how I liked it packed!). And he would also shop for the ingredients for that day's lunch and dinner menu.
He would come back with all the items - never missing a single thing from Por Por's list (even though he never took notes) and we would all sit down for morning breakfast together. Sometimes, I would follow Kung Kung out to the market - because it was extremely enjoyable and he would buy extra "goodies" for me - like almond nuts or century eggs - both of which he and I enjoyed very much.
Anyway, after breakfast, everyone would leave for work. And there would only be myself and Por Por left in the house. Por Por was a full-time housewife and from young, I've always observed how she strived to take care of the family and the house without help. She would sweep the floor, mop the floor, hang the laundry outside and wipe dust off the furnitures and displays in the mornings. Then, she would be preparing lunch in the kitchen - while listening to Radio 5's "Chinese Story Time." (Me? I would be doing my homework or reading my book - and I think part of why I enjoyed staying with Por Por was because I escaped doing the household chores at home!). When she was preparing lunch, I would climb onto a stool in the kitchen and watch her. The mincing, slicing, chopping, shredding, frying, stewing, boiling, - everything!.
What I really remember most of my stay with my Por Por was the fabulous home-cooked food she whipped up during my stay. As the "guest-of-honour" during my stays, I got to demand for my favourite dishes! And they were all home-cooked Hakka dishes - which my Por Por specializes in. There's the Cha Chu Yuk, Gu Low Yuk, Yong Tau Foo, and then there's her special Chicken Curry, Assam Fish.... and then my favourite - Minced Dried Shrimp and Belacan fried extra spicy just for me! I could finish two bowls of rice just on this dish alone!
Anyway, I was really fascinated as a kid to watch her do magic in the kitchen. I would be asking so many questions : "Por Por, why you do this? Por Por, why you put this inside? Por Por, why this, Por Por, why that?" But she would patiently explain to me all the 'whys'. Sometimes, she would let me stir whatever she's cooking and I would proudly exclaim that "Look, Por Por! I can cook!" and she would say "So clever."
She would be done by around the same time as when the radio chinese drama ends. And then she would do the ironing. After which - yummy, yummy, lunch is served for me. She would sit and eat with me. She would always tell me when I was a baby, I was so well-behaved when she was baby-sitting me. She says this of both my brother and I till today. After lunch - all I needed to do was to bring my plate over to the sink. She would do the washing (another plus point of staying with Por Por!). And then, I would go back to entertaining myself while she does the laundry.
After that, she would sit on the floor to read the newspaper - Sin Chew Jit Poh (where my Kung Kung was a journalist with) and sometimes, I would ask her what's happening or I would try to point out some chinese characters which I could recognize. And then, she would fall asleep on the floor. Everyday, same time, same spot. When she woke up, she would bring in the clothes and start folding them or starching them. She's the type who made sure even my Kung Kung's boxers are ironed tediously.
And then I would get cartoon TV time while she prepared for dinner. Even though there were leftovers from lunch, she would still make a fresh dish or two for dinner as everyone came home for dinner then. This would be my yummy-yummy round two for the day :) She would also be preparing dinner for Tony, the doggy. She would stew some bones and rice for the dog. (Tony grew up at the Chow Kit house and moved together with the family till he too, passed on, shortly after Kung Kung passed away.... from heartbreak..... )
While I watched cartoons, Kung Kung would get home. And Por Por would come out and fetched his house slippers for him and laid out his home-clothings (white singlet and boxer shorts) for him while he took a shower. And then she would continue to potter around the kitchen. Kung Kung usually took a short nap while waiting for dinner to be served and then I got to eat dinner with Kung Kung. Usually, we would finish dinner before my Ah Yee and Kow Fu got back from work (and sometimes, I would go in for round three with them! I was a growing child then :P) While we were having dinner, Por Por would be feeding Tony. Yes, feeding Tony with a spoon. Again, I would usually watch in fascination at this.
And then, we would all sit to watch the Chinese News on RTM2 (now TV2) in which, there shall be no talking or whispering as my Kung Kung demands absolute silence when he watched the news. After the news - we sat around watching a chinese drama series or some other programmes and then guess what? It would be bed time. For all. That would be barely 9pm. Such was a typical day at Por Por's place.
My Por Por had a very eccentric characteristic. Her sofa set - was not meant to be sat on. Only if guests came. We usually sat on the floor or on some foot stools. Only two persons were allowed to shower in her bathroom - me (I am after all - the guest of honour :P) and Por Por. Even my Kung Kung had to take his shower in the guest bathroom! But when I do shower in her bathroom, I had to make sure that the other half of the bathroom which has the toilet was dry. It's all a little weird - but it didn't affect me very much, so I didn't care.
She and Kung Kung often traveled and they had gone all the way to Disneyland in the US of A. At the age of 60 or so, she was still on roller-coasters and free-fall rides and also had the photos to prove it. She was also quite a glamourous lady - going for hair perms every Sundays - which my Kung Kung took her as she didn't drive nor took the public transport, she had on nail polish and would put on red lipstick when she went out.
She was fierce too. Everyone in the family went by her "rules" (no seating on the sofa, lights off 8pm, morning call at 4am... etc). My Ah Yee used to call her Empress Dowager. But she had never scolded me. Not so much as a spank either. I guess, I never gave her a reason to do so.
Sadly, after Kung Kung passed on in 1993, things somehow took a turn for the worse for her and for the family. My Kung Kung had always been the one taking care of her - doing the marketing, taking her out to perm her hair, etc. I think whilst she was saddened by his passing, she felt helpless without him around and perhaps, just perhaps, resented it a little. Also, at that time, Kow Fu already had a family of his own to take care of and was sometimes unable to accommodate her requests to ferry her for her hair perm or buy an onion. My Ah Yee - sadly, does not drive.
It was this period of time, where I hardly showed up at her place anymore. For me, I was trying to get over my Kung Kung's passing. Visiting the house only reminded me of his absence. And then, I was a little annoyed at the family for fighting over assets and all that. As a "child" - the "adults" felt that it was not in my place to make any comments. Especially so when I am only the grandchild on the daughter's side - which means - I am a "ngoi shuen" - which literally translates to "outside grandchild". All these irked me. As such, I no longer accompanied my parents to Por Por's house for weekend visits. I used to never missed a single weekend. I still made sure I showed up for the big occassions, like Mother's Day or Por Por's birthday.....
From here on - the close bond that I shared with my Por Por slowly, but surely..... fizzled away. One of the last fond remaining memories I had of my Por Por in good health was when she came to send me off at the airport when I went to Australia to finish my degree. And then, Por Por's health went downhill from there. Not rolling downhill, but slowly..... it started, leading right up to her being in a wheelchair now.
And it hadn't helped that Por Por's apparently giving a lot of troubles to my Mom who is trying to take care of her, and giving hell to the maid as well. I hear my Mom lament about these issues a lot. But for whatever reasons - everytime I go visit my Por Por (I would drop by once in a while to look in on her), she would be in her best behaviour. So, I am also at a loss. Because I am not able to see it with my own eyes.
Sometimes, when I do look in on Por Por, my heart would ache. Surely I would feel like shit too - if I am confined to a wheelchair. If you could just imagine - you were traveling the world, riding roller-coasters, going out for hi-teas et al..... and now, you can't even go to the toilet on your own or wear your own clothes...... I do think, she is sometimes difficult because to her - she had lost her dignity. She had never really been independent because my Kung Kung took care of her. And then she's had to live the last 17 years without him - and half of that, in this state of health. I feel very, very sorry for her.
Por Por taught me manners as a child. Through manners, I learnt about respect and dignity.
Por Por has all of my respect - simply because I carry about very fond memories of her from my childhood days and I know she was an excellent wife and housewife. Eccentric, but excellent. My only regret was never taking notes when I was watching her cook - or my life would've turned out quite differently!
But I think, most of all, Por Por deserves to have her dignity - despite the conditions of her health.
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