His mercies are new every morning: I MISS YOU

His mercies are new every morning: I MISS YOU

After attending some counselling courses, I realised that I need to talk it out so to help myself from the trauma I experienced.

It was a sunny morning. Me and Josephine were lying on her bed. Suddenly I saw her fell and sat on the side of the bed while she was getting ready to the market.

Saliva came out of her mouth.She was lost of speech when I asked her what happened.
Then I shouted to my father, just when he was holding 2 eggs, getting ready to the market for his breakfast. He never thought it was serious, I was left with my mom, having her head on my palms. and Jo, still on the bed.

Next scene was:
I was running alone along a rough path to the Tampin Hospital , which was around 2 km away from my house.
I was crying and running out of breadth. Thinking nothing, just wanted to see her.

On reaching the Hospital, I rushed into the ward, seeing her lying on the bed. some doctors were around her. I knew nothing, yet I wanted to know how was everything. I was ignored.

Next scene:
My grandma, eldest Auntie, and a few others were gathering under a tree in the hospital compound. My eldest auntie said something like: "you bad luck, bad life, No mother then you know". ( She seemed very firece to me, I was 9 years old. I am never fond of her )

Next scene:

I was playing with Josephine and another sister on a bench in the hospice compound. suddenly somebody knocked very hard on my head. I turned to see the "witch, eldest auntie, cried and shouted at me: "you no mother bad life lor". The impact of loosing my mother was not so severe than her knock on my head.

Next scene:

She was lying on a low plank( or bed?) in our shop. All my siblings were crying, shaking her and calling her to come alive: MAAAAAAA, mammaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...........,

Then I saw her tear drops flowing down her cheeks. she was sent back by the doctors, proclaimed dead.yet she was crying. I saw the tears. That couldn't be denied.
I wiped off her tears. It kept flowing, I kept wiping, it kept flowing..............She must have missed us very much..........

Next scene:

It was the funeral.

So many of us, there were my 4 younger sisters, 6 elder brothers and sisters. I remembered the "Saikong",
the walking around the coffin.,
the throwing of the ash.,
my uncles and aunties' long and fierce faces.,
my mother's high-heel shoes under the coffin.,
my father's crying at the back of the staircase..............,
How to dress the funeral attire so I could look nice to the young and handsome saikong.,
the photo taking, where to stand to get a better view of myself....
( AIyoooooooooo!!! I was so childish)

Next scene:

At night after the funeral, I ran to search for my eldest sister who was married and stayed in another place. They were sleeping. I was crying outside her window, longing for something, trying to get to somebody. Then I ran home again, scared of ghosts, dared not sleep. where have all my siblings gone? I had no ideas.


Thats all I could remember.

Whenever I heard the song: "Mama is good", I couldn't stop crying in my heart. The loss is deep. I couldn't help myself to think of : "I have no mother"


Praise the Lord, after the lost of my dear mom, my father forced all of us to church. There I found Jesus's love.

It takes years to heal. Finally, God does a mighty work in me.

THANK YOU,JESUS.

I MISS YOU

I did 2 tests: "How much do you know Gloria? ","How much do you know Angela? ".
Then I created my own test, one of the questions was: whom do you like to meet most?

I miss her most.She is the one I want to meet most.

Vividly, she had big and deep eyes, sharp nose, though a bit big, nice lips, most of all, the high and protruding forehead( which I am inheriting now).

Wearing kebaya and sarong most of the time, she ate with hands, liked to eat hot spicy chillies. she hardly spoke Mandarin, but spoke liked a Malay,she spoke many dialects: Hockien, different Hakka, Hainanese, Teochew, and a bit of Hindi language. Very sociable, friends from all walks of life, mixed especially well with the Malays.

she used to bring me to weddings (including Malay weddings)and funerals. I came to know that she was very popular and helpful in managing the "white business" and "Red business" among the Chinese friends.

Once she brought me to an old lady's farm. The old lady reared many pigs, I saw how she cooked food for the swines. The smell of the food was awful.

She always canned us.(but my father never)

She was very thrifty. she picked boxes and thick card boards, folded them nicely, in exchanged with tofu, mee or kuehteow from noodle sellers.

she would buy 2 bundles of vegetables, split them into three, 2 to be sold to her Malay friends and the other bundle to be brought to her mother, my grandma in Alor Gajah.

I remembered she brought me to attend many Malay weddings.I liked all the wedding gifts like: small begs with eggs and flowers, handmade golden flowers, egg flowers,..............

she liked durians very much. Once I saw her squatting at a durian stall eating durians at the road side.
She bought durians for us to go with our rice. No such thing as balance diet, balance meal. She was uneducated, yet she made sure her children(my elder brothers and sisters) got good educations.

Because of the fruit pickle business we did, the juice of the kuini and bacang made her hands "black" literally. Even when she passed away, I could remembered her 2 black stained palms laying besides her dead body.

She liked to take photos. Every Chinese New Year, we would gathered at the photo studio, waiting patiently for my father to come out from his Mahjong games, just to put his butt on the chair for a five minute photo taking.

There are many more fond memories about her.

She passed away at the age of 41(or 42), 1963. I was 9 years old.

Since then, I missed her, I missed her bringing me to all the "white business and Red business", Malay weddings, ate Malay foods, met Malay friends.

I have never told her I love her. I never have the chance to tell her at all.

Everytime when I heard people singing "Mother's song", I just couldn't help but ache in my heart. Her death was a trauma to all my siblings, 11 of us. My youngest sister was 3. I don't know how well they took it, but I know I need healings.

she is the one and only one I want to meet most, not my husband, not my children, less my relatives.
I want to tell her I love her, I miss her. I miss her hugs.

I LOVE YOU, MOM

My Institute, My pride

I am so grateful to God to be able to work in such environment.

Every morning, after clock in, you can go round the campus, appreciating God's creations, breathing in fresh air, listening to birds chirping, and smelling the sweet scent of the blossom flowers, welcoming you, telling you that His mercies are new every morning.

Life is full of goodness and mercies of the Lord.

Another Happy Mother's day

Another year has passed. It was Mother's day again.

I read her blog. It made me cry again.

Somewhere, sometimes before, we had that experience of forgiving and loving in pain. I cant really remmeber what happened, but I could vividly remember the incidence.

I was out of words, very sad, very very sad, more sad than angry.
I locked myself in my room, not wanting to see anybody, not wanting to talk.

Hahahha, then we started passing papers,through the closed doors, writing notes to each other. Hahahah.
In the end, I also forgot how things went by.

She was still my "little baby", whom I love so much.

Ya, another year has passed.


I miss all my children, who are so far away from me.

May God take care of them.

I am proud to be their mother.

We reap what we sow.