Today is the 100th day of Mummy’s passing.
We all lose someone precious in our lifetime.
Only those who have experienced the heart-wrenching sorrow of losing someone incredibly precious can truly grasp the profound happiness I will feel when I am ever reunited with my Mummy once again.
In mummy’s final months, I felt that time passed extremely fast. Each part of the day seemed to pass like an hour. Now that I am without Mummy, an hour is like a day; a day is like a month, especially during the weekends. The time of a regular weekend passes like a year.
As I share my blog to invite others to express their condolences, I expose myself to the harsh realities of gossip and criticism from those who derive satisfaction from cruelty, often overlooking the profound pain others experience and the necessity of compassion during times of grief. Furthermore, those who engage in toxic gossip appear to have forgotten their own vulnerabilities following the loss of their beloved parent, a time when they, too, longed for kindness from others.
Many told me that Time will heal all wounds. While this saying often resonates with the complexities of our relationships, it may fall short when it comes to the profound grief experienced from losing someone we cherish deeply. Time may dull the sharpness of our emotional pain, especially when mourning a treasured soul; the continuous understanding and compassion from others truly envelops us. This support wraps around us like a warm blanket, gradually reviving our hearts so they may feel the comfort of love and warmth again.
As I strive to come to terms with my sorrows, I am acutely aware that as the years pass, precious memories may slip away, and the specific words of my dear Mummy might become elusive.
It’s understandable to feel absurd reading this; despite my profound love for my Mummy, I fear forgetting our beautiful moments and specific heartfelt words spoken. I’ve chosen to write down cherished memories while my mind is still vivid, honoring our bond.
My Mummy had a strong personality and courageously stood her ground to prove that “Nothing is Impossible“. I remember how she packed everyone’s luggage meticulously to use all space and created a secure box from simple cardboard. I believe I will be reunited with Mummy when it’s my time to pass; months before she passed, she reminded me of our special connection, saying, “Hold onto our slot for the Adoration chapel”, “Continue going to church”, “Don’t forget to say your prayers, Girl”, and with her spirit, “Girl, get up. Move on.”
Moving forward can sometimes be challenging, yet I have faith that God has greater plans for my life. Throughout this path, I have been blessed with my Mummy, who has nurtured, loved, and guided me in developing the skills necessary to embrace these divine intentions.
Our hearts are filled with memories, our eyes are full of tears.
Our lives are filled with missing you, each day throughout the years.
We pray you found the peace in death you couldn’t find on earth.
I hope I became the people you prayed for at my birth…
“My hair messy and you want a photo?”
Mummy was caring towards Gong-gong and dedicated to including him in our family celebrations and outings. Regardless of whether we had guests, Mummy always took the time to capture precious moments with Gong-gong, making particular he was served delicious food and his favorite drink, Johnny Walker.
During our trip to St John’s Island, Mummy secured a ticket for Gong-gong to make the journey special and packed fried noodles and sandwiches for everyone. Daddy, the cameraman, loved capturing moments of Mummy with Gong-gong, who couldn’t refuse having her photo taken. Mummy disliked photos, especially when the wind messed her hair up, and her reaction was often, “too windy, my hair in a mess.”
“… Remember to wear a flair skirt when visiting such places”
In March 2008, Daddy and Mummy set off on a heartfelt journey from Singapore to Tibet. I fondly remember how Mummy brought back some delightful dried mushrooms to make soup, and shared countless hilarious moments about the trip.
I could hear the warmth in her voice as she chuckled about the adventure of no toilets onboard the bus and the discomfort everyone faced. The spark of mischief in her eyes shone as she recounted how the passengers were split up, with men heading right and women left, searching for a private spot in the tall grass. I found it funny and wondered about snakes or bugs, prompting Mummy to laugh infectiously and say that if she traveled to such places again, she’d definitely bring a flare skirt for privacy.
Mummy cheerfully told me how lucky I was not to join them for the trip, recalling a dish of tomatoes and fried eggs that left her with a lasting aversion. She laughed heartily, and I smiled, shaking my head at the thought of eating it, which would truly make me cry.
The photos of the mountains and hills were truly breathtaking. I could see the joy in Mummy’s eyes as she lovingly described the Tibetan nomad tents, sharing how they use wood and dung for fuel and the resilient hair of black yak or goat as materials for constructing these shelters. Her laughter was infectious and warm when I shook my head in disbelief.
I feel that Mummy enjoyed watching my facial expressions as I listened to each of her unique encounters.
Snowmobile ‘kissing’ a tree
In 2010, mummy decided to take charge in the planning of this trip than let me put them both on a wild goose chase. This trip was definitely a new experience for us all, including Mummy.
Our first night in Abashiri, we went for sushi at a nearby diner. It was very snowy, and we wore spikes on our boots for safety. We tried whale meat sushi for the first time; the meat was as red as beef yet tender like tuna. As we left the diner, Mummy led the way, followed by Daddy, while I took my time to shut the doors. Suddenly, Mummy slipped on a patch of ice and fell. Unaware, Daddy stepped onto the same spot, slipped, and joined her. In his hurry to catch up, he pushed Mummy along the slippery path. I jumped onto the snow without falling but laughed as I watched my parents, both sitting in the snow, their laughter drowning out the pain. It was a moment of joy amidst the chilly chaos, reminding us that laughter can be the best medicine.
I have always dreamed of sharing magical experiences with my parents. I felt incredibly fortunate to discover English-guided snowmobiling tours in the beautiful mountains of Sapporo, which I quickly booked for us. With her remarkable courage, my mum approached the challenge head-on and learned to navigate a snowmobile with unwavering determination. As we faced our first steep slope, she gracefully let her mobile glide down like a pro, showcasing her skill. However, panic set in when we navigated down a ravine as she accidentally steered her snowmobile into a tree. The sudden jolt from the impact was concerning, and I couldn’t help but worry about how it might have affected her arm and shoulder. Despite that, Mummy laughed over it and did not blame the guide.
Mummy was my most excellent role model. She was a quick learner and possessed a unique ability to remain calm despite adversity.
The 3 Adventurous Musketeers
GPS totally changed the game for people who used to waste way too much time getting lost and doing awkward U-turns just to make it to the right spot.
In April 2009, uncle Andrew came to Perth for a visit. It was an excellent opportunity to take time from our usual routine for a small trip within WA – We traveled from home to New Norcia for 2 nights then to York through Northam and Toodyay.
I find immense joy in watching my mother with both my uncle and dad by her side. It fills my heart with warmth to see their love for her, always ready to support her. Whether it’s my dad and uncle lovingly accompanying her to morning mass in New Norcia, keeping pace as she joyfully rushes across the Avon Suspension Bridge, or climbing to the highest viewpoint at Mount Brown Lookout while she stretches freely, their presence is a testament to their care. Even during a fun round of mini golf, I cherish seeing them together, united in their love for her.
I love this trip. Mummy and I were roomies, and I had the best time snuggling up with Mummy. We had a fantastic mother-daughter time when we went dipping in our landlord’s jacuzzi late at night. She would laugh every time my teeth chattered. Whenever I shivered in fear over rustling noises heard in the dark, Mummy would smile and calmly exclaim that it was just a joey (baby kangaroo).
Down South Winter experience
As the grandkids were growing, I am extremely glad that Mummy managed to take the time away from them to be with daddy and I.
Just 3 of us, we traveled downsouth from Perth to Albany, through Denmark and Walpole then to Northcliffe and Pemberton before heading back through Bridgetown and Bunbury. Mummy always enjoyed cooking. So she brought her marinated minced pork and her rolling pint along with us on this journey. She packed my car with a small crate of her cooking utensils.
When we got to Albany, we spent the day wandering the town. Once night fell, mummy preferred to be busy in the kitchen making her bak kuah. She stayed up late rolling her minced pork until it was flat before roasting it in the oven. I asked her to go to bed so she wouldn’t be tired the next day, but she replied, “Why worry? I am not the one driving.” I remembered we had started using GPS, so she could close her eyes without checking the maps unless she wanted to know where we were.
Our visit to Albany Wind Farm became an unforgettable adventure filled with excitement and joy. I could see the sheer delight in Mummy’s eyes as I eagerly stood in the parking area, pointing out the direction of the Ponyclub, the Prison, and the Quarries with pride. It truly touched my heart to share those discoveries, all thanks to one of the few research projects I had conducted at work. The most exhilarating moment came when we bravely decided to trek to the peak of the Wind Farm; just as we ventured away from the car, the skies unleashed a torrential downpour. The rain hammered down, accompanied by fierce gusts of wind, driving us to dash back to the car for shelter. Remarkably, this happened three times, each time fueling our determination even more until, finally, the heavens granted us the chance to ascend to the peak!
During our visit to Denmark Dinosaur World, Mummy was enveloped in a sense of tranquility, lovingly explored the exhibits, and the beautiful outdoor wildlife. It was heartwarming to see the parrots contentedly perch on her shoulder, as if they were drawn to her gentle presence, requiring no invitation to come close. The parrots seemed to recognize the warmth and kindness radiating from people instinctively.
“So many fruits, what are we going to do?”
When my nephew and niece were born, our world seemed to revolve around their happiness and well-being. Even during weekends when mummy came home to rest, she would either be preparing worksheets for the grandkids to work on, patch their favorite uniform, design and sew a library bag or sew a pillow or a blanket for them, made pizza or baked cookies to bring over or go grocery shopping for their favorite snacks. Mummy hardly rested.
I would take the opportunity to conduct extensive research of the activities then make it sound exciting so that mummy would take a break on the weekend. I was happy that weekend when I brought mummy and daddy for fruit picking. As ‘city-folks’, we rarely have opportunity to pick fruits. This was a rare opportunity that we traveled to Golden Grove in Lower Chittering for citrus picking then followed by strawberry picking.
I fondly remember that wonderful day we gathered so many oranges that our pail overflowed, and our pockets in jackets and hoodies were brimming with citrus treasures. Mummy was delighted by the delightful variety of oranges and mandarins available for us to pick. The car boot was packed with vibrant fruits as we headed off to enjoy some strawberry picking. I can still hear Mummy’s joyful laughter each time she picked a strawberry, marveling at its impressive size.
Our day of fruit picking concluded with my car boot brimming with fresh citrus and juicy strawberries, a bit of mud on our shoes, and jackets that carried the sweet scents of our harvest. Despite feeling a bit messy, we were filled with excitement and endless possibilities for enjoying all these delicious fruits except that as mummy said, “I ate so many oranges, mandarins and strawberries that I can even see them in my sleep.”
Mummy and her siblings
In all my travels and activities I do with mummy, I rarely capture the moments on photos. At that time, I thought to myself that it was needless to showcase on Facebook to anyone what I do or how I spend with mummy. I felt that it was all superficial and would rather spend the time with her and capturing the moments in our hearts. I never thought mummy would leave me so soon and that we will have many birthdays, Christmases and New Years to be together. Now what I have is memories in the heart.
These are among the last photographs of mummy and her siblings sharing a meal. Even though we had planned to gather for photos, I felt compelled to push my camera to its limits to freeze these precious moments of mummy, uncle Andrew, and aunty Chee. Witnessing the love that flowed between them was truly heartwarming. I know that I will never experience what mummy and her siblings experienced and I envy them as I watch the love and joy they shared.