My Mom

I walked into my bedroom, heard the birds greeting the early morning and decided to finally have my quiet time; time to reminisce on my Mom. It’s been a week since her passing.

My first memory of my life was as a toddler living in an estate in Semenyih. We lived a distance from town and having three older siblings to play with, there really wasn’t the need for the company of neighbourhood kids. Ah, recollections now of feelings of fascination and curiosity to find a scorpion on the living room floor and our older sister alerting us not to touch it.

It was the norm to come across centipedes and millipedes casually crawling about the house and the garden. I recall yelling, with a mixture of excitement and panic, to my mom, “Snake!” while I was having breakfast on the patio. We got frequent soothing rub-downs with eau-de-cologne after playing in the garden as we’d end up with bumps and itches on our skin.

My Mom, she took it all in stride. I never heard a word of regret or complain for those years spent away from the concrete jungle and friends. In fact, you could hear the fondness in her voice whenever we sat and talked about the past.

We moved to town when I was seven; my eldest sister was 11 then. I doubt if it was of coincidence that we stayed in a house just next to a forest reserve. We four sisters would often spend weekends exploring the jungle. Mom had full confidence in us handling ourselves on our adventures.

Being back in ‘urban’ locale, Mom had her friends over for the occasional lunch. Her curry laksa was the most frequently requested dish. Desserts I eagerly awaited for were Mom’s lemon meringue and apple pie. The birthday parties we used to have when we were young; how did she manage all those dishes single-handedly? Mom did it all with love and passion.

My Mom was always there for us. She was a strict disciplinarian and did not stand for any nonsense. Try going to her and tattle-tale on a squabble with your siblings and she’d say “I don’t want to hear about it, go sort it out amongst yourself”. Though hardly one to show her feelings, you knew she cared and loved us. She taught us to stand up for ourselves.

Goodness wonders how she managed four boisterous girls. There were no chores for us; she never once asked us to help around the house. I ask myself now, “Why?” and, “If only we had realised how much she took on.” From a young age, she was to me “Super Mom” and I always looked to her as a strong woman. Never once did it cross my mind she wasn’t as invincible as she portrayed.

I never saw Mom upset, feeling down or angry. I don’t ever recall her quarrelling with my father. Maybe she kept her emotions and thoughts deep inside. The last year of her life, my Mom suffered from “major depression” as the psychiatrist calls it. What made her go downhill, we can only make assumptions.

When Mom passed on,a thought ran through my head though knowing I would not receive an answer, “Mom, why did you give up on life, did you not see how much you had going for you?” What triggered her to lose confidence in herself, we will never know. I realise there isn’t any point wondering anymore.

I want to remember her as jovial, confident, dedicated and full of passion for life. She’s my Mom.

May she rest in peace.