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.

cards of LOVE

I received an e Card of LOVe in this year's mother's Day from the children.

It was a very very BIGGGGG e-card, So big that I took 4 hours to download the whole file.
And after waiting for the 4 whole hours of downloading, I could not manage to open the file.

Can you imagine my anxiousness and frustration?

I really thank the Lord for giving me beautiful and lovely children. They are the most precious ones for me on earth besides Jesus.

So, as usual, my little Gloria would spend time, hours..... creating cards of LOVe for us.

Nomatter what days , Birthday, Father's day, mother's day,Christmas or Thankful DAYS,.......,
She would not feel tired to sit at her desk for hours, drawing and scriblling things, and finally ,you would receive cards of LOVE of all kinds of her creativities.

You can feel her love through these little actions.

How not to love this type of kid?



I remembered one year, it was my birthday approaching. My Boy, Sam, wanted to draw me a card, trying to create a card for me too, like his sister.

But after my birthday, I didn't receive anything.
So, one afternoon, I went to his desk. I saw crumbled manila paper, some in the dustbin, some on his desk.
When I flipped through, I saw an old card, cut out of shape.

At the right hand corner of the card, there was a straw made rose loosely attached to it. The rose was dusty with dirt. I saw in the card, rubbed stain writing, vividly I could read:

I love you, Ma.

I was so touched by what was done. he could not finish the card, he is not as creative as his sisters, but he has a heart for me. The love from him to me overflows.

Can you tell me how not to love children like this?


And my eldest daughter too. As creative as the sister. Only that she is more busy with her study, later with her career.

I could not hold back my tears everytime I received their Cards of LOVE.


Thank you ,Lord.

Thank You Lord for giving me these loved ones.

May you continue to take care of them.

Though they are so far away from me now, but they are dear and nesr in my heart.

I love you Lord.
I love them too.

laughing mom

Take a few minutes to read how my youngest daughter described me.

Then may be you will have a fague idea of who is this over half a century old lady .

My mama

When I think of Ma, I think of her laughter.

Her laughter is
as loud as the fire alarm in Shoreland,
as contagious as pimples on my forehead,
as enchanting as sunlight through a dense forest,
as pleasant as Ben & Jerry's icecream,
as beautiful as tulips,
and...
as precious as my soft toys.

You get the idea. My mom has the best laughter ever.

Yesterday, after not talking to my Ma for more than a month or so, I finally got to hear her voice. As her sweet laughter rang in my ear, my heart softened and warmed. It was the best sound that anyone would want to hear.

One bubble of laughter from her is enough to send me to cloud nine straight away.

:)

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, MA!

Ma, I still remember, every time I asked if you want any present from me, your replies were always the same.

"I don't want any present. All I ask from you is your obedience."

I can't thank Almighty Father above enough for blessing me with good parents.
I just pray that God will bless you with joy and youth all the days of your life!
Don't let that joy and youth in you fade, ma!



Warning to others: When my ma and her seven sisters gather in the same room, you won't wanna be around because the moment they explode into laughter, the whole house shakes and you will feel as if you've been struck by an atomic bomb. Such is the impact of their laughters.


So,
this runs in my family.

Out of the 11 siblings, eight of us, all the girls in the family would tear down the rooftop or crack glasses if we gather to have chats.

But unfortunately this rarely happens because of distance and space.

I do miss them a lot.

come back again

Many people were surprised at me writing blog, like many other youngesters.

I was just wondering:

Is blogging solely for younger generations?

I came to know from many sources, many older people write blogs.

I know my deputy director is a blogger.

I used to comment in my daughter's blog.
I came to know many of her friends through her blog.

I think I will continue on writing in my blog.

I started few years ago, wrote one or two posts, then stopped.
And never have anybody visited my blog too. Hahahhaha,
except my hubby.

hahahhaha

Thank you Lord

Thank you Lord. I can't thank you enough.
For what you have done on me,
what You made of me,
What You want me to do.
Lord, teach me lord, how to obey You,
Lord, teach me how to love You more each day.

Miracle

Its a miracle that I will like to share with you.
The miracle happened to my boy, second year medic student in Jakarta.Please read on. If you are edified, pass to your friend then.

4^th of October 2007

My flight was at 6.55pm. “Hmm it’s quite late, I have lots of time,” I thought to myself.

On the day before, I had already planned everything nicely. With my landlady, Tante Susy, chauffeuring, I was supposed to go pick up my friend, Nurhaslinda, at around 3.30pm, and then set off for d airport. “More than 2 hours to go to the airport? Surely it’s too much time,” or so I thought. “Better to be safe than sorry,” was my line of thought, as previous experiences had showed me that unexpected traffic jams can occur anywhere in Jakarta.

I was supposed to set out from my house at 3.15pm. However due to some unforeseen circumstances (I was playing Transformers the game till I forgot the time), at 3.15pm I had not finished packing and bathed yet. Getting myself ready at top speed, I set out at 3.30 pm for Linda in Tante Susy’s car. We reached Linda’s house at 3.45pm, because traffic was heavy (Her house is actually very near). After picking her up, I asked Tante Susy whether we will get to the airport in time. Her reply was reassuring: “Of course. We have more than 2 hours to go to the airport. Usually the trip takes only about 45 minutes.” With that, we set out for the airport.

Tante Susy decided against taking the road that she usually takes, Jalan Pramukah. She told me that because this is the fasting month, and everybody wants to rush home early to open their fasting with their family, the road will be very congested. Thus she decided to use Jalan Percetakan Negara, a small road that will lead us right to the highway.

The first few kilometers were fine, and traffic was smooth. However, we began to notice that traffic was slowing down, and our car had to slow to a crawl. As the traffic jam got worse, there were times when we were not moving at all for long periods of time. It was around 4.30 pm at that time. Needing reassurances, I again asked Tante Susy whether we’ll reach the airport in time. Again her reply was, “Don’t worry, we will reach there in time.” With that, I told everybody that I was going to take a shut-eye for a while.

I woke up with a start when I heard Tante Susy asking directions from some guys beside the road. Noticing that something was amiss, as there were no cars around us, I asked her what the problem was. She said that the traffic congestion was so bad, the road had to be closed down. As a consequence of that, all the cars were rerouted to another road. She said that that road will not lead us to the highway. Thus she had to turn into one of the many small “kampong” roads that will lead us back to Jalan Percetakan Negara, but ahead of the road block. By continually asking for directions, we were able to reach Jl Per Negara. However, the traffic here was worse than before. It was so bad that a normal 2 lane road became a 4 lane road. All the cars were squeezing into any space that they can find. The cars were very only a hand-breadth away from each other. At around that time, I messaged my friend, Geeta, who was also on the way to the airport, but ahead of us, asking her how the condition of the traffic on the highway was. Her reply was worrying, “There’s a massive jam leading to the airport, and cars are crawling”. All this on a highway!!

We slowly crawled bit by bit, sometimes remaining motionless for more than 10 minutes. It was around 5 pm at that time. Tante Susy began to worry. She said that she feels like crying, because she was so powerless to get out of this traffic jam and get us to the airport in time. One interesting thing to note was that in spite of the traffic jam, some drivers made U-turns amidst all the many cars. They will turn slowly, bit by bit, and force their car into the other lane. Of course when they were maneuvering their cars, all the other cars cannot move. Tante Susy said that these drivers were very stupid, and that they have no brains to think.

Anyway, I could not help but worry about reaching the airport in time. My flight was not cheap, because I had booked it really late. Besides that, I had a connecting flight in JB. If I missed this flight, I will not be able to take the connecting flight to Kuching. That will be RM650 wasted. So I began to pray hard. I told God, “O Lord, I don’t want to worry. I know it’s Your will for me to go back to Kuching this time, and so I will trust in You with all my heart, without a single doubt. Lord, by faith I declare that I will reach the airport in time, and I have already received it Lord. I will be as a child before You, trusting You as my Father. I thank You O Lord! Hallelujah!”. With this prayer I began to rest in God, even when all around me seemed hopeless.

Thank God we finally got out of the traffic jam, at around 5.15 pm. We went up the highway, and traffic was smooth. Tante Susy sped her car up to 120 km/h at times, and weaved her car in and out of the traffic, trying to get us to the airport in time. I had to hold my breath at times, because our car was dangerously close to colliding with other cars.

After about 10 minutes of smooth driving, we had to slow down to what seems like a traffic jam. Somehow I knew it was the traffic jam that Geeta had complained about just now. It was 5.25 pm now, and we had to reach the airport latest by 6.10 pm. The airport was still very far, and all we could see of the highway in front was just cars upon rows of cars. It did not bode well, and we were all worried. I was perplexed. “Didn’t I just pray to God? Then why am I now stuck in a second traffic jam?” I knew that I did not have enough faith in myself to trust in the big God that I believe in. Thus I continually spoke in tongue throughout the journey to the airport. All glory be to God for the circumstances He put me in.

We were all silent in the car. I was busy praying, while Tante Susy and Linda were (I think) busy worrying. Tante Susy said that she wanted to “lau sai” (do huge business) because she was so nervous. Praise God I had the faith to say this to her, “Don’t worry. We’ll surely reach in time for our flight.”

At 6.10 pm, we were still in the traffic jam. It seemed that it was never going to end. The time of departure of our flight drew on nearer and nearer, but the traffic continued to crawl like a tortoise. At 6.30 pm (more or less), we discovered the cause of the traffic jam. The highway was actually a 3-lane road. But unfortunately at this particular time, the Government was constructing something, so they had to close off 2 lanes. This of course caused a bottle-neck effect. Cars had to queue up to go to the only lane that was still open. It was indeed late at this time. By all men’s logic, the Johor Bahru counter had already closed. All seemed lost.

We reached the airport at 6.40 pm thanks to Tante Susy’s brave (bur reckless) driving. Immediately after we reached the airport, Linda and I took our bags (I carried hers, cause it was heavier), and we ran and ran and ran. Thinking back, people must have been amused at our desperation. But we were desperate. We scanned our bags at top speed, and then we ran to the AirAsia counter.

By this time, it was less than 15 minutes before our flight was supposed to take off. With a sinking feeling I glanced at the cards that were placed on the check-in counters. All showed “Kuala Lumpur”. Of course our counter was closed. Muttering a quick prayer, I went up to a man. He looked like an officer. I had no idea why I went to him, out of all the AirAsia employees there. But today I thank God I went to Him. I believe it was divine intervention.

I told him that I was supposed to be on the JB flight, and that I was very sorry for being so late. Then, miraculously, without asking me for further explanation, he took out his handphone and called his friends. He asked them about the status of the plane. After ending his call, he asked us for our passports. I was stunned. I did not expect something like this to happen. It was downright impossible, by ALL men’s logic. But I knew that God was at work. Praise God. He processed our ticket, and gave us the boarding tickets.

Everytime when I go back to Malaysia I have to apply for tax exemption. This is because of the immigration laws in Indonesia, which states that all citizens and residents in Indonesia, when traveling to another country, must pay tax money amounting to Rp 1,000,000 (RM400). As I am a student staying in Indonesia, I must apply for tax exemption to avoid paying that huge amount of money. This was usually done at a special counter in the airport. The officer that checked us in thought that we were tourists, and did not need to apply for tax exemption. So when we told him we had to do it, he was shocked and he muttered, “Astaga” (similar to Oh My God) instinctively. By this time it was about 10 minutes before our plane was supposed to take off. He then told us, “Hurry as fast as possible. If by the time you reach the terminal and the captain does not allow you to go inside the plane, come back to me.” Our seat on the plane was not assured yet.

Carrying Linda’s bag, I quickly ran to the tax counter. Linda could not run as fast as I can, so I was very far in front of her. At the counter, there was a very long queue. I went to everybody in the queue, and begged them to let me go first, telling them that my plane was going to take off in 10 minutes. Thank God they let me go first. Filling our forms at top speed, we then proceed to get our tax exemption done by pestering the officers to do it as fast as possible. =)

At this point in time, we were all very breathless and sweating profusely. Our hearts were beating fast, and the adrenaline rush that we experienced was exciting, if not scary. However, our “journey” to board the plane did not end there. We still had to run as fast as possible to the immigration counter, fill our forms as fast as our hands can scribble, and then hurry the officer to process our papers. After that, we then ran again to our terminal. It was, by this time, past our time of departure. When we reached the terminal, we didn’t have to explain much to the employees there. Do remember, that at this time we still had our baggage with us. Usually, for an international flight, no liquid exceeding 150 ml is allowed on the plane. However, we had to carry our baggage, containing perfumes, bottles and the likes, all with liquid exceeding 150 ml, into the plane. This is because the baggages of the other passengers had already been loaded into the plane. The officers at the terminal did not ask much, but they amicably allowed our bags into the plane. This is nothing short of another miracle. Praise God.

Our plane finally took off at 7.15 pm. In the plane, after I sat down, I felt so overwhelmed. I could feel tears welling in my eyes. I knew that what had happened to me was so impossible and so supernatural; reaching the airport 15 minutes before my flight, and still managing to get into the plane. God is so miraculous, so powerful, and so great. We are so tiny in his eyes. Our circumstances that look like giants to us are but little bacteria in His eyes. Hallelujah. Praise You my Lord. You alone are worthy of my praise and adoration. All glory be to God. Thank You Lord.

Thanks for taking time in reading.

May God bless you

27th, Oct 2007

Old classmates, ex-roommate.

TO meet up with long lost classmates is something which is thrilling and joyful.

I managed to meet up withKim Yan and See Hong, after 32 years we left MPMK, JB.
She was my roommate, he was our class rep, we were all in the same class, PPAKC(4/5) 1976/77.

To see her living happily with her family is the best present I get after these years of yearning to meet her again. He is taking good care of her, or I would say, she is taking good care of him and the family.

May God bless this couple, classmates of mine, roommate(she) of mine, may He bless them with good health and long life, love and joy, peace and wisdom to continue on life's journey.

See you again. My friends.

Hallelujah

Its like writing diary, I told myself.
I used to write diaries when I was young.
Since primary school, I cant recall which standard was it, one of my teachers forced us to write diary. I continued the habit until Secondary school. The habit didn't stop even after my secondary education, I kept on writing, on and off. I used to write in Mandarin.
I forced my children to write diary when they were young. Of course they were reluctant.
And now, coming to another paradigm, I suddenly picked this up again in the net. Whoever reads my blog will have to tolerate my "Chinese speaking English" or "Orang Cina English." where my children and husband used to laugh at my "wonderful" English.
Its another step in life , late but its never too late to learn new things.
Do you agree with me?

Holidays

Its His mercy that I can relax completely in a 5 star hotel in Seremban, with my little Gloria sweetie besides me.
I have been thanking my Lord for His love & greatness all these while :
- His Salvation ,His Grace, His mercies & His everything.
- a good church with closely knitted bros & sis
- a good working environment with close colleagues
- a sweet home with a near "perfect" husband ( that makes me imperfect) & beautiful and understanding children & son-inlaw

I cant thank Him enough for what He has done for me.
Thank you Jesus.