Posted on 11 November 2008 @ 01:19 in Family, Personal
When I was a kid, I remember attending 21st birthday parties given (or “thrown” was the word) by my cousin sisters. It was THE birthday, and one of the main presents would be a little “21″ to be worn on a chain around the neck.
Much later, one of the uncles commented that while the girls celebrated their 21st birthdays in a grand manner, nothing much was heard of the birthdays after that.
For my 21st birthday, I didn’t have a grand party. Instead, I took my parents and my nanny out to dinner at a vegetarian restaurant. Mother had put that idea in my head, saying we should treat our parents to a meal because they were the ones who gave us life. Looking back, I think she said that because she never had a chance to treat her parents to a meal - she was given away as a baby, and had buried both her adopted parents during WWII, before she turned 21.
Instead of a “21″ on a chain, my sister had given me a little diamond cross on a chain, her acknowledgement of my Christian faith.
Other memorable birthdays through the years included my 31st celebrated in San Diego. My housemates had planned a surprise party for me and started to worry when I didn’t come home that evening, and when I finally did, they were not ready and one of them had to take me out to the stores cuz she needed “to get something”.
Then, there was the birthday I visited the Vietnam Veterans’ Memorial in Washington, DC on Veterans’ Day, which happened to fall on my birthday.
More recently, there was the birthday I visited my beloved giant panda family at the San Diego Zoo. Three of them were on display that day - mummy Bai Yun, son Mei Sheng and baby Su Lin - and all three of them ignored me! That evening, I’d gone to see Janis Ian in concert. What a grand way to celebrate my 48th birthday.
And now two years later, I am half a century old. I spent the hour before the stroke of midnight reading through my previous birthday journal entries, and crying at some of them.
I have to admit I am a little nervous of turning 50, of being 50. But I have something wonderful to look forward to later today. I am spending the day with mother. She may not remember it’s my birthday, and people have asked if she still recognises me. I tell them I think she does.
She greets me with a wonderful smile whenever she sees me before her. She gives me her hand when I reach out for it, and she’s not even looking at me or my hand; somehow, she senses my hand nearby. And when I put her hand to my cheek, she pats it gently, and sometimes, more than a little “gently”.
I can’t ask for anything more than to spend time with my mother, especially on the day she gave me life.
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Posted on 6 June 2008 @ 12:49 in Family
It’d all started when I printed two family photos with cousin JK in them, for her family. At the wake, I showed the pictures to the other cousins who were soon asking for copies for themselves. Cousin KN even offered to pay for the ink and paper. Then I told them about the mini site I’d done for the old family shop, and he said why not put up the old family photos online so they could print them themselves.
Later that night, I went to the online gallery that I’d set up a while back, and created a new album called Old Family Photos.
There are currently only 17 photos online, but it’s a start. More to come. Good reason to digitise the old family photo albums, too.
BTW, when I was showing the two photos around, cousin Lee asked if I was writing my autobiography. No, my dear cousin - not autobiography, since it’s not about me, but family history, because it’s about all of us in the family. I guess that makes me the family historian.
Oh, the photo album is here:
Old Family Photos
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Posted on 4 June 2008 @ 12:27 in Family, Personal
When we were children, we would meet often, the younger ones especially, often hanging out in one another’s homes.
When we got older, we met less often, usually during Chinese New Years.
And then not even during Chinese New Years, as we got busy with our own lives, some married and with growing families.
It got to the point where we would only meet during two occasions - someone’s wedding or someone’s funeral.
This evening, I will be meeting up with my cousins. But it won’t be for a wedding. It would be for the wake of one of our older cousins. And then we’ll meet again, for her funeral, maybe tomorrow, or in a few days’ time.
A few weeks back, Sai Goo, my father’s younger sister, had called to say cousin JK was very ill, and suggested that my sister and I visit her. When my sister called cousin JK’s husband to ask how she was and to say we would like to visit her, he said not to visit as it would alarm her because we’ve not kept in touch so visits from all the cousins out of the blue would cause her to ask why.
Two evenings back, Sai Goo called to say cousin JK had been admitted and her husband had expressed a wish that the cousins visit her if we could. So my sister and I went after dinner that same evening.
Cousin JK looked well. She recognised us and clasped my hand tight when I reached out to hold her hand. She’d partially lost her speech but managed to whisper to us a couple of times when we were there. She remained the concerned older cousin as she tried to tell us where the toilets were, in case we needed to go during our visit. When we left, she was sleeping.
Yesterday evening, I returned from my evening walk to find my sister on the phone. She turned when she heard me and said “Cousin JK’s passed away.”
During my sister’s first phone conversation with cousin JK’s husband, when he’d told us not to visit her, I felt very sad that I would not be able to see her one more time. So when Sai Goo called to say he would like us to visit if we could, I felt grateful to be able to see her again.
The last time I saw cousin JK was at my niece’s funeral wake two years ago. Before that, it was for father’s funeral wake the previous year. She’d arrived all apologetic for not visiting during that Chinese New Year; she’d been busy looking after her newborn granddaughter.
That’s how it is when we grow up and get on with our own lives. We lose touch with cousins and relatives, sometimes even with our own brothers and sisters. I’ve been very blessed that my sister, brother and I remain very close, and look to one another for help and support in different areas of our lives. Mother is one reason why we remain close, but it is my prayer that even after she leaves us, we will remain as close as we are now.
Related Post
Cousins
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Posted on 21 April 2008 @ 15:21 in Being Silly, Family, Travels
When Leo Babauta of the wildly-successful zenhabits blog wrote a post to ask for tips to keep travel simple, I posted my favourite.
Wet wipes.
The suggestion was eventually included in the final 36 tips but I can’t claim to be the only reader who suggested it. Way before mine, someone else suggested baby wipes. I’m just happy it’s included in the final list of 36 tips.
I swear by them. Wet wipes. Especially for travelling, when I usually have a small packet somewhere in the carry-on bag. They’re great for when you’re far away from clean water to moisten a tissue to wipe something.
But not just for travelling. Anywhere, anytime. I even have a pack in my car. Which was a good thing last Saturday when my brother, on a weekend visit from Singapore, found a dried glob of spit on his shoe. We were leaving after his afternoon visiting with mother (I’d arrived to fetch him after attending the Readings at Seksan’s). Apparently, Grace had been spitting on the floor all afternoon. Not just on the floor, as we found out.
“Never mind, I have wet wipes in the car,” I told him.
“What wet wipes? Where got wet?” he asked when I gave him one in the car a short while later.
Okay, lah - so it’s not dripping wet. To be more accurate, it’s moist. But enough to do the job it’s supposed to do.
Speaking of wet wipes, I get mine from Tesco. Hypo-allergenic. Alcohol free. Fragrance free. They used to be available in a pack of three - two big packs and a smaller, travel-size pack. “Used to” cuz I couldn’t find them the last two times I was there. I only saw the small travel-size ones. Hopefully, just temporarily out-of-stock, but soon to be available again.
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Posted on 1 March 2008 @ 22:12 in Family
He was a rescued 8-week-old puppy fostered by my sister’s tailor that my sister had decided to adopt. It was a surprise that she would do such a thing as she’s not much of an animal person. But when you see a picture of him taken the evening he joined the household, you’ll understand her decision:
He’s CUTE! Compared to the other two four-legged members of the family - a rottweiler called Lok (Chinese variation of Rott, but also meaning “happy”) and a doberman called Morpheus - he looks more approachable, too. As the smallest of the three, he has been nicknamed SmallDog, although over the months, he has grown quite a bit, so that now, we must remember to call him by his real name, Prince.
Over the months since he joined the household, two other things have happened to Prince. His pair of ears have become mismatched - the right ear is upright while the left ear remains droopy, and his tail has flowered into quite a magnificent brush. Here he is at 11 months old.
Another view of his tail.
That’s his “house” behind him, a section of the corridor leading from the garden into the wash area. He remains on a chain even when home because he’s still able to squeeze between the grille bars, as in the picture above. Initially, we thought he’d grown too big to squeeze through, but one evening, the maid had found him seated at the door watching her at work. To prevent any doggy encounters with my sister, it was decided to return him to his chain.
One thing we’ve still not been able to determine is his breed. Sure, he’s a mixed, but of what breeds in particular? One vet thinks he’s a Spitz - Cavalier King Charles mix, while another vet thinks he also has Collie blood in him, too. Looking at the three pictures here, any suggestions what he might be?
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