The reason for living the life we live.
I had never thought that my mom would be one of the reasons for me living life the way I live it now.
We often take our moms for granted. She is there for us throughout our lives. I admit that my relationship with my mom is less than perfect. We did not have the typical mother-daughter, my best friend type of relationship, of which I was always envious of when I saw how other girls would go out shopping with their mothers, pick out dresses, talk about boyfriends and learn to cook. All the intimate things that girls needed guidance from their mothers on how to be a girl, I didn't get from my mom. I was left to figure it out for myself, which could be the reason I didn't do all the girly things; wear make-up, dress for a man's approval, do the damsel in distress act or bat my eyelids to attract sexual attention. Instead, I grew up preferring to wear jeans, men's t-shirts, and even to the extent of not walking the way a girl should, with quick long strides and my steps haphazard and unladylike.
What I do remember is my mom teaching me to not take into consideration anything to do with race identity during my dilemma in school asking me to choose between being a Malay or a Chinese due to certain behaviors I was expected to have in order to have me associate with either one.
I also remember the patience and kindness my mom gave me when I ran to her coming back home from school having my first period. She showed me how to run the string through the loops and around my waist the first time I wore a sanitary pad.
I remember her singing her Chinese songs and Paul Anka favorites when she was alone cooking in the kitchen. I learnt the words to "Diana", "Puppy Love", "Dance on Little Girl" when I found her notebook for the lyrics when I was 13 years old. Which is also the reason, I bought the CD for the collections of Paul Anka's songs when nostalgia hit me during my pre-menopuase stage when I was yearning for youngness in my life.
She complained of non-stop perspiration that would drench her clothes and sweat that would trickle down her body during her period of menopause, which I definitely inherited from her.
And I remember the time she was cutting up cloth to sew and the way she would scrunch her face and mouth upon each cut of the scissors into the fabric. When she saw me looking and realized what she was doing she burst out laughing, which made me burst out laughing, and we couldn't stop laughing as the laugh-attack came upon us until tears came out of our eyes.
My mom felt that life was hard on her. Her parents came from China and settled in Sitiawan, Perak. My grandfather built the wooden house with the dirt floor and strove to make a living doing many odd jobs, which is why he is a true jack of all trades; fixing anything, wood working, farming and rubber tapping. A family of 3 boys (the eldest boy passed away early) and 5 girls, my mom was the 3rd daughter and therefore, was called, "Sa Ee" or third aunty by my cousins. She was fragile and was always sick and therefore could not finish Form Three of her secondary schooling. But in Form Three, it was when she met my dad and thus effecting another story to be told at another time.
Her decision to not continue schooling and instead enter teachers' training college was what made her into a teacher and her lifetime profession. As was her lifetime dedication to bringing me and my brother up and moving from one location after another, following my dad's work as a government agricultural officer being stationed from one facility to another. We stayed in the government quarters in Sik, Kedah when I was born, then after my brother. Money was tight, barely enough to survive and when my dad was offered a scholarship to do a bachelor's degree at the age of 32, she persuaded for him to go to Canada without her and us two children; me at 4 years and my brother at 3 years, where she moved into my grandparents house to be able to continue teaching and raising us.
A year later, she decided to travel all the way to Canada with us to join my dad, she braved travelling alone with two young children. Life wasn't easy either in a foreign country, and whilst my dad had the scholarship to study, my mom worked at factory jobs sewing buttons and such to support our living and enabling us to go to school. We were the first latch key kids. After school, I would let myself and my brother into the house from the basement door entrance and entertain ourselves until my dad came home from the university. At times, we would have a baby sitter, Malaysian friends of my dad, also from university to look in or stay with us during their breaks in class. There was Uncle Nik and Uncle Hassan. I especially liked Uncle Hassan because he was easily coerced into bringing us to the nearby candy store to buy liquorice. There was also Uncle Nazri, who dated Aunty Louisa and we got to spend time in their apartment when we were sent there for them to take care of us when my parents couldn't be home.
To save money, my mom would plant vegetables behind the house. I remember my first taste of sweet green beans straight off the plant and red rhubarb. We ate simply, homecooked meals with the occasional luxury of pizza, homemade from "Chef Boyardee", although after the pizza was cooked, mine had the tomato sauce and cheese toppings scraped off because I was allergic to something in it that made my mouth itch and swell up. My childhood memory of eats in Canada consisted of "Oscar Mayer" hotdogs and "Kraft" singles and once in a while treats of "Dairy Queen" ice cream cones served in the grey cardboard tray in the car when we went out for family car rides.
My mom being dedicated to dad and us, was alone. She had the few Malaysian friends; a couple of families like Aunty Jun's family and Aunty Diana's family where we would get together during special occasions. When we came back to Malaysia, she went back to teaching; moving from one school to another along with us to be together with my dad as he was stationed from one agricultural facility to another. We stayed in large, haunted government houses as well as a few rentals. It was only when I was in Form 5 and my brother in boarding school that my dad managed to buy a house in Kajang and a year later, I left to study in the US. My mom's circle of influence were her few teacher friends and she was close to my uncle, Suey Ku, her youngest brother living in Kuala Lumpur and her eldest sister, Tuah Ee, living in Ipoh.
As time went by, my mom retired and soon lost track of her school colleagues. Tuah Ee and husband moved to Australia to stay with their children. Fourth Aunty had passed away when I was in Primary school. Her other brother, Tuah Ku, was in Singapore, whilst Fifth Aunty moved to Canada and later also Second Aunty as well.
Depression and dementia took over my mom when Suey Ku passed away. She lost her appetite to eat, lost a lot of weight and due to falling many times, could no longer walk. Mom came to live with me the last three years of her life. She passed away peacefully on July 4th, 2020.
I now come home from work and go into her room and see the empty bed, nice and clean with its sheets pulled tight by her caregiver, Mary Ann. Mary Ann is unable to sleep in the room at the moment, waking up every two hours, seeing the empty bed beside hers in the quiet of the night, instead of changing mom's diapers or getting her something to eat and drink, or even just talking with her through the night to calm her down and assure her that her concerned dreams are just her thoughts and that she does not have to worry about the household chores or pay the bills or write the school reports anymore. Assuring mom that she is with her family in the house, not alone even when we are out or at night or when everyone goes to bed, Mary Ann stays by her side.
I go to buy groceries and stop myself from automatically reaching for the organic chicken and the other grocery items that make up a balanced meal for her rice porridge and soup. I still push my cart into the isle for the diapers and her vitaminized milk formula. I realize that my life and whole routine has revolved around the needs for my mom; buying her food, her vitamins, her diapers,... dinner time talks and watching reruns of "I Love Lucy" on U-Tube,... consoling her during times of extreme dementia and non-stop unintelligible ramblings through the night,... watching her sleep during the day, after exhausting herself out throughout the night and smelling her soap and fresh powdered scent and stroking her damp grey hair in the afternoons after her bath.
Mom was my reason for living; the reason for me to earn an income to be able to pay Mary Ann to take care of her 24 hours a day. How my daily routine has been scheduled and what I do and where I go, have all revolved around her. Now, that is gone... I have to find another reason for living. A new chapter to open, after the closing of this one. Many lessons I have learnt from her. Lessons to bring forward for the future and the rest of my life's journey I have yet to experience.
Today is July 7th, 2020. Dragonflies are in my garden. I look out the window and see so many of them flying across the window, flitting back and forth, into the trees outside. Said to be a welcome sign, representing good luck, abundance, harmony and happiness. Symbolizing a maturity to accept change in life, a change in perspective and a shift towards self realization. A symbol of a new me perhaps and a reminder to live life to the fullest.
I miss you, mom...
In Loving Memory
13 January,1938 - 4 July, 2020
Hong Ai Mooi @ Hong Aye Mooi @ Norlizah binti Abdullah
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