Monday, January 26, 2004
THis is a continuation from the previous entry.
ANd so it was that my dad became the only member in his family with an english education. Until this day, I can't help feeling a sense of relief at my grandma's good foresight. If my dad had gone to a chinese school, he would never have landed his job in singapore, a job that gave my family a comfortable life and me the opporutnity to be a doctor. His half brothers all work for sah beh, though their jobs provide comfortably enough for their families, my cousin's opporutnites are considerbly less than mine and my siblings. As I sieved through the faded photographs of my dad and his mom, my father reminds me of never forgetting my elders. " Filial piety is an important thing, " my dad said. "I owe your Ah ma my whole life." He forebade my family to eat beef because it was against his mother's religious wishes. A lady who never let her bad circumstances mire her life, my ah ma singlehandedly raised my father, his siblings and their half-brother. She often took trips back to Singapore when I was young to visit us. I recall her sleeping in my bedroom and getting up in the middle of the night to switch of the air-con because she was afraid that I was going to feel cold. Irritated at being woken up because of the heat and utterly misunderstanding her intentions, I whined and screamed at her. Until today, I wish fervently I could have told her I was so sorry for behaving like a brat.
Being born and bred in an English speaking household, I never learnt how to speak Hokkien. My relatives often admonished my parents for bringing up "angmohfied" kids. But the language barrier never got in the way when I played with my grandmother. She was a generous lady with a good sense of fun, albeit a little stubborn. I recall her bringing me out on long morning walks and playing with me. ONe morning, I caught sight of her fiddling with a ring on her finger, which was studded by a huge ruby. Astonished at the size of the gem, I clambered onto her bed to have a closer look. She smiled at my childish curiosity, removed the ring and gave it to me. It was a gift from my grandfather, a valued gem with huge sentimental value and yet she still bequeathed it to me, a young girl who was ignorant of the enormity of her sacrifice in parting with a gift from one she whom she held dear. My father was horrified by her actions and pressed her to keep the ring, but she was adamant that I keep it.
As I grew up, my grandmother's memory failed her. It came to a time when she could not longer remember my family and could no longer make her yearly trips down to Singapore. Caught up in my own world, I failed to notice her absence. But when I returned to Penang and found that she no longer could remember my name and my face, my heart ached. She was always a part of my childhood, part of the jigsaw puzzle that was essential to my growing years and my development and she no longer recognised me. Her memory continued to detoriate and soon she couldn't even recognised my father. I remember taking her arm when helping her get to a family dinner in a hawker center. She smiled and thanked me, but even as I tenderly escorted her to her seat, I knew I simply appeared as a kind stranger to her. My grandmother was sticken by a serious of Gastrointestinal problems. And one terrible night, when I was 9, she passed on. I can still recall the terrible phonecall. I picked up the call, and heard my aunt weeping and asking for my dad. My dad picked up the call and in a stricken voice, declared ," Ah ma si liao... " ( Ah ma has passed away). I numbly called my classmate to ask her to help me take note of my homework for the next week or so as I had to go back for the funeral. But as I choked out the reason to explain my absence, I burst out into uncontrollable weeping. My shocked friend had to contend with my mother's calm explaination while she pried me from the phone receiver and laid me on the couch where I continued sobbing into the damp cushions. She never quite understood my outburst for she never knew that deep down inside, beneath all the language difficulties and the spoilt, rude attitude that she often witnessed me showing to my grandma, that Ah ma meant a lot to me. I never knew how much I loved her until she left this world. I alone was fortunate to get to know Ah ma, my sister never got to know her so intimately because by that time, her memory was so bad, she couldn't even recognise the son whom she stayed with. My brother was born after she died. She appeared to me in a dream with my maternal grandfather. I vividly recall that in that dream, I got into a car with her and my late maternal grandfather in the back seat of a car. They asked me about my plans for the future and I told them that I was going to study medicine. " Hou, hou,( Good, good.)" they smiled. Then as suddenly as they had gotten into the car, they opened the door and left. The car moved on and I turned to face the rear window and watched their figures grow more obscure in the distance.
Though she has departed her present life, her bravery and stoic nature persist in my family's life. Every object we own, every education we receive are testimonies of her unselfish sacrifices.
My dad was an active kid at school. He did relatively well in class but he ruled the sports field. He was known as "one Leg King", supreme player of the game he engaged in during recess. His athlete prowness was more than apparent as he single handedly and single " leggedly" chased and caught 10 of his counterparts ( runniing on two legs mind you.) running for their lives in the school basketball court. It is doubtless that his excellence in sports made him a real popular guy during recess. YOu never lost a game if my dad was on your team. Unfortunately, the active kid had didn't really seat well with his english teacher who had a mysterious adversion to sweaty boys. So for a couple of times a week, when her class was after recess, the boys were forced to seat through recess in order to remain nice and dry.
My dad has had his share of fistfights. THe most memorable, he recounted with a wry smile, was when he tried to help some kid from a class bully. The bully had tried to take one of the kid's cards from him by force. My dad, irate at seeing a small, helpless boy at the mercy of a glowering bully, stepped in to do the situation justices. What started as a shoving match quickly escalated into a short fistfight when the boy punched my dad in the eye. Taken aback at the change of tactics, my dad kicked the bully and they both fell, wrestling on the ground. THe fight was broken up by the teachers and the children sent home in disgrace. When my grandma saw the blackeye, explainations of herioc deeds nonwithstanding, she reached for the cane and gave my dad a sound patting on the rear end. So my dad was rewarded for standing up for his friend by a bruise on his eye and his rear end.
My dad's favourite sibling was my Godfather or my 5th uncle. He was born with a hole in his heart. So while his brother was busy running around the farm grounds, my godfather was forced to take on a more placid pace. He was a hardworking and smart boy who insisted on going to school in his weakened condition. So he rode on the back of my dad's bicycle to get to school everyday. I never got to know my godfather for he died in his teens. One day his breathlessness was so severe and they had to send him to the hospital, but he never returned home. Sad that her son would never experience the joy of being a father and having children of his own, Ah ma told my dad that his firstborn would be his brother's godchild.
ANd so it was that my dad became the only member in his family with an english education. Until this day, I can't help feeling a sense of relief at my grandma's good foresight. If my dad had gone to a chinese school, he would never have landed his job in singapore, a job that gave my family a comfortable life and me the opporutnity to be a doctor. His half brothers all work for sah beh, though their jobs provide comfortably enough for their families, my cousin's opporutnites are considerbly less than mine and my siblings. As I sieved through the faded photographs of my dad and his mom, my father reminds me of never forgetting my elders. " Filial piety is an important thing, " my dad said. "I owe your Ah ma my whole life." He forebade my family to eat beef because it was against his mother's religious wishes. A lady who never let her bad circumstances mire her life, my ah ma singlehandedly raised my father, his siblings and their half-brother. She often took trips back to Singapore when I was young to visit us. I recall her sleeping in my bedroom and getting up in the middle of the night to switch of the air-con because she was afraid that I was going to feel cold. Irritated at being woken up because of the heat and utterly misunderstanding her intentions, I whined and screamed at her. Until today, I wish fervently I could have told her I was so sorry for behaving like a brat.
Being born and bred in an English speaking household, I never learnt how to speak Hokkien. My relatives often admonished my parents for bringing up "angmohfied" kids. But the language barrier never got in the way when I played with my grandmother. She was a generous lady with a good sense of fun, albeit a little stubborn. I recall her bringing me out on long morning walks and playing with me. ONe morning, I caught sight of her fiddling with a ring on her finger, which was studded by a huge ruby. Astonished at the size of the gem, I clambered onto her bed to have a closer look. She smiled at my childish curiosity, removed the ring and gave it to me. It was a gift from my grandfather, a valued gem with huge sentimental value and yet she still bequeathed it to me, a young girl who was ignorant of the enormity of her sacrifice in parting with a gift from one she whom she held dear. My father was horrified by her actions and pressed her to keep the ring, but she was adamant that I keep it.
As I grew up, my grandmother's memory failed her. It came to a time when she could not longer remember my family and could no longer make her yearly trips down to Singapore. Caught up in my own world, I failed to notice her absence. But when I returned to Penang and found that she no longer could remember my name and my face, my heart ached. She was always a part of my childhood, part of the jigsaw puzzle that was essential to my growing years and my development and she no longer recognised me. Her memory continued to detoriate and soon she couldn't even recognised my father. I remember taking her arm when helping her get to a family dinner in a hawker center. She smiled and thanked me, but even as I tenderly escorted her to her seat, I knew I simply appeared as a kind stranger to her. My grandmother was sticken by a serious of Gastrointestinal problems. And one terrible night, when I was 9, she passed on. I can still recall the terrible phonecall. I picked up the call, and heard my aunt weeping and asking for my dad. My dad picked up the call and in a stricken voice, declared ," Ah ma si liao... " ( Ah ma has passed away). I numbly called my classmate to ask her to help me take note of my homework for the next week or so as I had to go back for the funeral. But as I choked out the reason to explain my absence, I burst out into uncontrollable weeping. My shocked friend had to contend with my mother's calm explaination while she pried me from the phone receiver and laid me on the couch where I continued sobbing into the damp cushions. She never quite understood my outburst for she never knew that deep down inside, beneath all the language difficulties and the spoilt, rude attitude that she often witnessed me showing to my grandma, that Ah ma meant a lot to me. I never knew how much I loved her until she left this world. I alone was fortunate to get to know Ah ma, my sister never got to know her so intimately because by that time, her memory was so bad, she couldn't even recognise the son whom she stayed with. My brother was born after she died. She appeared to me in a dream with my maternal grandfather. I vividly recall that in that dream, I got into a car with her and my late maternal grandfather in the back seat of a car. They asked me about my plans for the future and I told them that I was going to study medicine. " Hou, hou,( Good, good.)" they smiled. Then as suddenly as they had gotten into the car, they opened the door and left. The car moved on and I turned to face the rear window and watched their figures grow more obscure in the distance.
Though she has departed her present life, her bravery and stoic nature persist in my family's life. Every object we own, every education we receive are testimonies of her unselfish sacrifices.
My dad was an active kid at school. He did relatively well in class but he ruled the sports field. He was known as "one Leg King", supreme player of the game he engaged in during recess. His athlete prowness was more than apparent as he single handedly and single " leggedly" chased and caught 10 of his counterparts ( runniing on two legs mind you.) running for their lives in the school basketball court. It is doubtless that his excellence in sports made him a real popular guy during recess. YOu never lost a game if my dad was on your team. Unfortunately, the active kid had didn't really seat well with his english teacher who had a mysterious adversion to sweaty boys. So for a couple of times a week, when her class was after recess, the boys were forced to seat through recess in order to remain nice and dry.
My dad has had his share of fistfights. THe most memorable, he recounted with a wry smile, was when he tried to help some kid from a class bully. The bully had tried to take one of the kid's cards from him by force. My dad, irate at seeing a small, helpless boy at the mercy of a glowering bully, stepped in to do the situation justices. What started as a shoving match quickly escalated into a short fistfight when the boy punched my dad in the eye. Taken aback at the change of tactics, my dad kicked the bully and they both fell, wrestling on the ground. THe fight was broken up by the teachers and the children sent home in disgrace. When my grandma saw the blackeye, explainations of herioc deeds nonwithstanding, she reached for the cane and gave my dad a sound patting on the rear end. So my dad was rewarded for standing up for his friend by a bruise on his eye and his rear end.
My dad's favourite sibling was my Godfather or my 5th uncle. He was born with a hole in his heart. So while his brother was busy running around the farm grounds, my godfather was forced to take on a more placid pace. He was a hardworking and smart boy who insisted on going to school in his weakened condition. So he rode on the back of my dad's bicycle to get to school everyday. I never got to know my godfather for he died in his teens. One day his breathlessness was so severe and they had to send him to the hospital, but he never returned home. Sad that her son would never experience the joy of being a father and having children of his own, Ah ma told my dad that his firstborn would be his brother's godchild.
Comments:
Post a Comment
