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