Cashews
I should be preparing for tomorrow. For not being at work. But i want to blog instead.
Today Ma gave me a review of the past week. The chiang chiang koon. The funeral it seems was very grand. Uncle Theodore came good in the end with it. He had ordered her a white coffin and she was transported in a stretch Volvo limo. P Diddy could not have done better. I jest, seriously, i do. Jac suggested that they all take a ride with the coffin, because i think she wanted to check out the jacuzzi, just in case there was one. My family and other clowns.
Then there was the collection of the ashes. They all arrived and they found this box. Oh mama has come out already! they all exclaimed. Mama, said Uncle Gab, he affectionately greeted the box. Then they looked into the box and wondered why her bones were black. I don't exactly understand this bit - why would anyone check out the box? It's not like you can ID the bones of the people who have been cremated. They were perplexed. Then the man opened his office door and called out Mama's name. Alamak! They all shouted. That's the wrong box lah! Mama's box is this one. Then what's in that box? It seems the man was on his way home and didn't have any other receptacle so he placed all his screwdrivers and nails into the other box. Gab, you are a cartoon pian, you know, said Ma.
Mama looked very beautiful in the photograph they used of her. She looked so grand you know, Ma said. They dressed her in this beautiful lace kebaya...then she told me that Jac had this dream of Mama. She was much younger and she told Jac that she wanted to eat some cashew nuts. So Jac asked Ma, does Mama like cashew? I had never heard of Mama liking cashew...so my Mum asked Rohani. Alamak! Rohani said, dia sangat suka itu cashew! she said. Saya selalu tumbuk cashew itu untuk Mama, she further elaborated. This was cross confirmed by Tina, who said, Alamak (also), Mama suka itu cashew lah Mam. So Jac bought a packet of cashews to put into Mama's coffin. When she heard this story Auntie Gerry, not to be outdone got a huge bag of cashews - much larger than Jac's - and her earthly remains left this world, well stocked with cashews, all she was missing was the beer.
It was the general opinion though that the eulogy was salah. I wanted to know what they said, but Ma didn't elaborate.
Everyone had come down for the funeral. All her surviving children. Mark made it from Australia too, although the draw of the nonya cake stalls may have been a strong reason to attend as well.
Ma said that the church was completely full. Really, you know Steph. We took out her old phone book and called everyone, Ma said. And some numbers tak pakai anymore. But people came in droves, and everyone had a story about how kind she was. Ge ge cried you know, Ma said. He said that you could tell Ma ma anything. You know Auntie Teresa, the first day of school and my bag was rosak. So i couldn't open it and i called Mama and she and Kong Kong came along to the school and bought me mee siam. She was so kind. And Father Verrakoon - i don't know if a saint of that name exists or did he like just find it on Star Trek? - he said the mass. He said that Mama would call him all the time and i told her Monica, you don't have to call me so much you know. Then recently, i made the wrong turn, he said, and then i thought of Monica and how she was. And you know that was the night she died, so when i found out i said, i must say the mass.
Mama used to give people money all the time. Oisin used to love to visit her. She'd give him ten dollars, or five dollars. It was such a thrill for him. Oisin also religiously brushes his teeth because one year, i think he was three or so, and Mama was staying in Uncle Gab's house. We were sitting down around the dining table in his kitchen, and Mama was there. Then suddenly, for no reason at all, she just took out her teeth - actually she took them out to make Oisin laugh. It was the first time Oisin had ever seen false teeth and i think the effect was both horrifying and fascinating - he sat there with his mouth slightly open and i said, at that moment, you see Oisin, if you don't brush your teeth, that is what will happen. So thanks to Mama, Oisin has the best set of teeth in Belfast. In fact it's so good that they refuse to drop. He is nearly eight and only 2 of his teeth have denuded.
Mama would have been 90 this year. 90. When she was born, there was no TV. People had gramophones. Cars had just been invented. There were no flushing toilets. The nightsoil collectors collected the buckets in the morning. She had lived through WWII, the Japanese Occupation, Singaporean independence and she gave birth to nine children.
Dearest Mama.
Today its her seventh day. Auntie Gerry is determined to spend the night at Chartwell to see if she will return. I don't think she will. I think she is gone. I think she has left completely. She has sailed. She has joined her mother she never knew, her father who loved her but she was never close to, her stepmother who she claimed never cared for her (but i supposed she would), her husband, J my grandfather who she called her Johnny Wesmuller - he used to visit her in her dreams she told us - he was always on a boat and asking her to come and she never answered - tak mo! she would say, baut apa pergi? - her daughter Adeline and son Tony, and Tway Tway who looked after the family for such a long long time. When a person dies, they are reunited with all the people who have gone before. Imagine, being with her mother whom she never knew. I think that sadness was the greatest in her life. She always had this longing inside her and i think it was for her mother.
She was a great beauty, we were told. So beautiful that she wasn't allowed out of the house.
Perhaps this was another story - one which i have confused with another.
And so she is together with them all now. The funny thing is that i can see Mama just ignoring them in the afterlife, the way she would ignore you after awhile, after you visited her in this one. She loved having people around her, but never wanted you to stay for long. And so perhaps she will visit us now. Instead of her calling us to visit her, she can now just drop in. I'd like that. If you ever wanted to visit Mama, we'll be ready. Thank you Mama, thank you for everything you were...
Today Ma gave me a review of the past week. The chiang chiang koon. The funeral it seems was very grand. Uncle Theodore came good in the end with it. He had ordered her a white coffin and she was transported in a stretch Volvo limo. P Diddy could not have done better. I jest, seriously, i do. Jac suggested that they all take a ride with the coffin, because i think she wanted to check out the jacuzzi, just in case there was one. My family and other clowns.
Then there was the collection of the ashes. They all arrived and they found this box. Oh mama has come out already! they all exclaimed. Mama, said Uncle Gab, he affectionately greeted the box. Then they looked into the box and wondered why her bones were black. I don't exactly understand this bit - why would anyone check out the box? It's not like you can ID the bones of the people who have been cremated. They were perplexed. Then the man opened his office door and called out Mama's name. Alamak! They all shouted. That's the wrong box lah! Mama's box is this one. Then what's in that box? It seems the man was on his way home and didn't have any other receptacle so he placed all his screwdrivers and nails into the other box. Gab, you are a cartoon pian, you know, said Ma.
Mama looked very beautiful in the photograph they used of her. She looked so grand you know, Ma said. They dressed her in this beautiful lace kebaya...then she told me that Jac had this dream of Mama. She was much younger and she told Jac that she wanted to eat some cashew nuts. So Jac asked Ma, does Mama like cashew? I had never heard of Mama liking cashew...so my Mum asked Rohani. Alamak! Rohani said, dia sangat suka itu cashew! she said. Saya selalu tumbuk cashew itu untuk Mama, she further elaborated. This was cross confirmed by Tina, who said, Alamak (also), Mama suka itu cashew lah Mam. So Jac bought a packet of cashews to put into Mama's coffin. When she heard this story Auntie Gerry, not to be outdone got a huge bag of cashews - much larger than Jac's - and her earthly remains left this world, well stocked with cashews, all she was missing was the beer.
It was the general opinion though that the eulogy was salah. I wanted to know what they said, but Ma didn't elaborate.
Everyone had come down for the funeral. All her surviving children. Mark made it from Australia too, although the draw of the nonya cake stalls may have been a strong reason to attend as well.
Ma said that the church was completely full. Really, you know Steph. We took out her old phone book and called everyone, Ma said. And some numbers tak pakai anymore. But people came in droves, and everyone had a story about how kind she was. Ge ge cried you know, Ma said. He said that you could tell Ma ma anything. You know Auntie Teresa, the first day of school and my bag was rosak. So i couldn't open it and i called Mama and she and Kong Kong came along to the school and bought me mee siam. She was so kind. And Father Verrakoon - i don't know if a saint of that name exists or did he like just find it on Star Trek? - he said the mass. He said that Mama would call him all the time and i told her Monica, you don't have to call me so much you know. Then recently, i made the wrong turn, he said, and then i thought of Monica and how she was. And you know that was the night she died, so when i found out i said, i must say the mass.
Mama used to give people money all the time. Oisin used to love to visit her. She'd give him ten dollars, or five dollars. It was such a thrill for him. Oisin also religiously brushes his teeth because one year, i think he was three or so, and Mama was staying in Uncle Gab's house. We were sitting down around the dining table in his kitchen, and Mama was there. Then suddenly, for no reason at all, she just took out her teeth - actually she took them out to make Oisin laugh. It was the first time Oisin had ever seen false teeth and i think the effect was both horrifying and fascinating - he sat there with his mouth slightly open and i said, at that moment, you see Oisin, if you don't brush your teeth, that is what will happen. So thanks to Mama, Oisin has the best set of teeth in Belfast. In fact it's so good that they refuse to drop. He is nearly eight and only 2 of his teeth have denuded.
Mama would have been 90 this year. 90. When she was born, there was no TV. People had gramophones. Cars had just been invented. There were no flushing toilets. The nightsoil collectors collected the buckets in the morning. She had lived through WWII, the Japanese Occupation, Singaporean independence and she gave birth to nine children.
Dearest Mama.
Today its her seventh day. Auntie Gerry is determined to spend the night at Chartwell to see if she will return. I don't think she will. I think she is gone. I think she has left completely. She has sailed. She has joined her mother she never knew, her father who loved her but she was never close to, her stepmother who she claimed never cared for her (but i supposed she would), her husband, J my grandfather who she called her Johnny Wesmuller - he used to visit her in her dreams she told us - he was always on a boat and asking her to come and she never answered - tak mo! she would say, baut apa pergi? - her daughter Adeline and son Tony, and Tway Tway who looked after the family for such a long long time. When a person dies, they are reunited with all the people who have gone before. Imagine, being with her mother whom she never knew. I think that sadness was the greatest in her life. She always had this longing inside her and i think it was for her mother.
She was a great beauty, we were told. So beautiful that she wasn't allowed out of the house.
Perhaps this was another story - one which i have confused with another.
And so she is together with them all now. The funny thing is that i can see Mama just ignoring them in the afterlife, the way she would ignore you after awhile, after you visited her in this one. She loved having people around her, but never wanted you to stay for long. And so perhaps she will visit us now. Instead of her calling us to visit her, she can now just drop in. I'd like that. If you ever wanted to visit Mama, we'll be ready. Thank you Mama, thank you for everything you were...
Comments