De one with Black 2 years

Even Heaven's weeping

On 21 August 1985, a courageous and great lady lied on the hospital bed, bearing the extreme pressure and endured hardship, all for a sole purpose of delivering the labour of a baby boy.

Approximately 6 years later, this lady experienced the same misery to bring another boy into this world.

She was always striving to be successful. Worried over health, she over-exerted herself. Little did she knew, a few months before her 50th birthday, she took her last breath without saying goodbye to the family... without being with any relative... without bidding farewell with her firstborn, who was still serving the nation in foreign land, Thailand.

Here I am, the skies are grey. The drizzle which had fallen from the grey skies, landed gently on the window screen... "They" looked as if they were tiny hands from angels above, to comfort me as I sat in the cab with my grand-aunt and Daddy as we en route to Bedok.

It took approximately 20 minutes to reach Qing Shan Gong, the very place where I had transported the tablet of my late-mummy, 2 years ago.. with tears flowing profusingly in my heart.

The unbearable memories struck forth all memories, saturated with unlimited remorse.. 2 years ago when I first received the phone call in Kranchaburi Camp...

...flash...

the frightening funeral wake...

...flash...

the merciless crying...

...flash...

the white roses I'd bring to Mandai Crementorium...

Now, it's 2 years... 2 years since Mummy left us. 2 years later, my aunt and I set up all the joysticks and food to be laid for paying of respects to mummy. My Daddy clumsy as usual, couldn't be of any help.

Perhaps this lady who gave birth to me 21 years ago must have been so sweet, that the "huat guay" (a brown cake, made of flour and brown sugar for honoring the Gods and Ancestors) contained ants which we thought must have been inside since purchase.

I didn't shed any tears. My Daddy didn't. He has been very reserved. Not even my aunt, who would break down everytime, every occasion like this... grieving over the irreversible loss of her younger sister. I didn't cry unless I was alone. This year was no exception. As I clinched my teeth and hold back all the tears filled to the brim of my eyes, watching the familiar clothes and sandals previously worn by mummy back when she was alive, burning together with all the incense paper and paper assets.

Burning incense paper and paper assets like money and treasure chest filled with more money were understandable. But why burn the belongings of people who'd already passed on?

Well.. they believe, no paper clothings are better than the very personal belongings worn while the dead's alive. It's a way to send things which are used to by the spirit so as to cope with the afterlife. It may sound foolish but I believe it. "Ashes to ashes".

2 years has slipped past real fast. Everybody doesn't speak of the grieve openly. Well, I supposed everybody's grieving in silence. Neither did we forget about mummy in our hearts. My granny and aunt told of dreams or encounters seeing the return of mummy's spirit.

Good for them... for me? Sadly, she didn't really appear in my dreams much. Only once in which I remember a pair of hands which I've recognised as mummy's hand. I cried bitterly, sking why did she leave us. Perhaps, she didn't appear because she didn't want me to be over-grieved?

"Our mothers are the best in the world"... this blog, dedicated to Mummy
x we love you. Forever in our hearts you'll live x