It would have been my parents’ 52nd anniversary had my mother still been alive this Christmas. They were married on 25th Dec 1955. This is written in memory of my mother, who passed away on 27/01/96 at the age of 60.
Mum’s given name was See Tue Wai Peng but her I.C. and other official documents registered her merely as See Tue Peng. Translated in Hokkien, it meant ‘die upside-down.’ Incidentally, her mother’s (my grandma) name, Tan Cheok, translated in Cantonese, meant ‘shoot bird’! Their names have been a source of joke amongst us for as far back as I can remember!
Mother was born in China and when she was in her teens, grandpa took her, along with the rest of the family, on a slow boat out of China into Malaya. Traveling along with them was another teenage girl, daughter of a family friend who ended up being my mum’s best friend to the day of her demise. They were so close that we tell everyone she’s our ‘Ah Khum’ (aunty) and her children, our cousins. Today, Ah Khum and her children are far closer to us than our blood relatives!
Mum’s given name was See Tue Wai Peng but her I.C. and other official documents registered her merely as See Tue Peng. Translated in Hokkien, it meant ‘die upside-down.’ Incidentally, her mother’s (my grandma) name, Tan Cheok, translated in Cantonese, meant ‘shoot bird’! Their names have been a source of joke amongst us for as far back as I can remember!
Mother was born in China and when she was in her teens, grandpa took her, along with the rest of the family, on a slow boat out of China into Malaya. Traveling along with them was another teenage girl, daughter of a family friend who ended up being my mum’s best friend to the day of her demise. They were so close that we tell everyone she’s our ‘Ah Khum’ (aunty) and her children, our cousins. Today, Ah Khum and her children are far closer to us than our blood relatives!
In her youth, mum was supposedly quite a beauty. She was admired and pursued by many an eligible bachelor but chose to marry my father. My friend, Lynn’s father often told me that she was known as ‘the rose of Port Swettenham’! Up to her early 50s, mum took great care of her appearance and would not be seen anywhere without at least, her lipstick on. Her nails were perpetually painted, hair, permed and dyed. She was vivacious, bubbly and blessed with the gift of the gab. This gift has been passed down most prominently to Mei Leng and Mei Cheng!
When I was about 7, she, 34 and a mother of 7, mum received a phone call from an admirer asking her to meet him at ‘Deluxe’, a restaurant cum motel at the corner where Econsave is today. Mum played along and told him okay but later told my dad about it. At the same time she called her brother, my fourth uncle and at the appointed time my mum went over to Deluxe alone. When that guy appeared so did my uncle. He scolded the guy, “You dare disturb my sister? Shame on you! She is already a mother of 7 etc etc. My uncle went on to say that he was one of Jalan Meru’s tai-kor and if he ever tried anything funny, he would go after him. How I know this? We, the older kids were there for the fun of it and saw this guy, looking very ashamed, apologized and left.
As a little girl, I used to follow mum to a nearby hairdresser which she frequently at least once a fortnight. It was called ‘Shanghai’ and the lady boss, Aunty Mui, was another of my mum and Ah Khum’s ‘sei-tong.’(close friend) The girls at the hairdresser always looked forward to her coming. They would call out to each other “Peng Cheh leh lor” (Sister Peng is here). Those in their rooms would appear because it was ‘story time’. Mum would then tell them her version of the Cantonese serials being circulated on video while they were doing her hair and nails. I’ve often seen mum falling asleep while watching these shows, yet she managed to narrate the stories to those girls, maybe she improvised a lot? Of course the story was to be continued on her next visit, as it was told to whatever episode she had watched the night before.
Mum and Ah Khum used to speak in their native “Sei Yap” dialect whenever they had secrets or gossips to share or when speaking to my grandparents. In all her years of living in Malaysia, mum never learnt to speak Bahasa or English for that matter. The only English word she could pronounce fairly well was ‘foreman’. Often, Malay and Indian customers would greet and speak to her whenever she sat out in the shop. Mum merely smiled a lot while we replied on her behalf.
Many people assumed that mother was truly blessed and that she lived a life of leisure. It was true in a sense as we were all raised by Nanny who was with us until I was in std 5. My parents had to send Nanny back to Hong Kong as her diabetics had taken a turn for the worse and the doctors had to amputate her leg. After Nanny, we had this lady who used to be a caretaker of the association upstairs (before we rented it) to help out with the chores. Before we had the washing machine, there was another lady who came in on a daily basis to do the laundry. Mother was indeed a source of envy to both neighbours and friends alike.
What they didn’t know was that throughout their marriage, mum lived in total submission to my father. Father was considered an ideal husband because he worked hard, didn’t drink or gamble. He hated all forms of gambling so much so that my mum, who was a compulsive 4-ekor bettor in their earlier years of marriage, had to endure many a scolding for indulging in it. Father was quick tempered and found fault with almost anything eg the rice she served him was cold etc. It would not be wrong to say that mum was terrified of him. So were we, while we were growing up even though he had never once caned or punished us. If he was angry with one of us, he took it out on my mum, accusing her of not knowing how to raise her kids. Mum would then waved the cane at us and we would tell each other ‘mother’s making Zorro sign’, meaning we’d better behave for the rest of the day.
Because there were 7 of us kids, almost daily either 1 of us would manage to get on his nerves; meaning that perpetually 365 days a year mum had to endure his naggings. And she had learnt early never to talk back at him.
Even though we kids often look forward to CNY because of the angpows, we knew one thing for certain; Father’s naggings would start especially early on the first day of New Year. That was because Ah Khum would come really early so the naggings could be due to the fact that mum was not dressed, or the syrup not ready or the biscuits, not placed out in tupperwares yet etc.
Father’s nagging on one issue would last the entire day and there was no way my mum could avoid it. He would follow her from one room to another nagging, nagging, nagging. She would sometimes run upstairs, where my dad never ventured (because it was children’s corner) just to avoid him, pretending she had ironing to do.
When my sister was old enough to drive, we would often sneak out of the house one by one and took my mother out for supper etc. That was probably the best days of her life but that was cut short because all too soon Mei Leng had kids of her own and was caught up with her own chores and only came for short visits.
During the last few years of her life, mum’s arthritis worsened and she had problems walking and took to carrying a cane. Climbing stairs was especially cumbersome for her. She had to sit on the steps and raise herself one step at a time. The naggings from my dad never ceased and it was now worse for her because she couldn’t run upstairs like before. The old caretaker had also gone to live in an old folks home meaning mum had less and less people to talk to since she had difficulty getting around. Aunty Mui, her friend and hairdresser had already sold off her business and only visited occasionally. Her daughter Ah Pong, came to give my mum a haircut once in a while. Ah Khum visited as often as she could but the fact that she doesn’t drive meant she had to take 2 buses to reach us. It was thus inconvenient for her to come as often as she liked.
Mum made a decision to move out of her room that she shared with my dad and moved upstairs permanently. Father asked her about it but by now she was good at playing dumb and chose not to reply so after a while Father quit asking. After that she hardly ventured downstairs anymore except to use the toilet. Even her meals she took upstairs and she hardly spoke a word to any one of us.
My sister would visit and even then she would hardly say anything and Mei Leng would ask her if her leg was hurting and she would just nod. It was then decided that we would send her for a kneecap operation to try to restore the use of her legs. That was a bad decision, which finally costs mum her life.
In retrospect, even though we didn’t recognize it then, I think she must have gone into a state of depression and withdrew into herself. Instead of offering her any comfort, I chose to ignore her. Admittedly I couldn’t handle the fact that she had changed so much. As for my father, I have stopped fearing him ever years ago. Today, Father may be old and feeble but I have unresolved issues with him. Whoever assumes that children don’t understand or remember what is happening around them, think again. I remember our childhood days perfectly. That is why until today, the issues with my father, remain unresolved.
F
When I was about 7, she, 34 and a mother of 7, mum received a phone call from an admirer asking her to meet him at ‘Deluxe’, a restaurant cum motel at the corner where Econsave is today. Mum played along and told him okay but later told my dad about it. At the same time she called her brother, my fourth uncle and at the appointed time my mum went over to Deluxe alone. When that guy appeared so did my uncle. He scolded the guy, “You dare disturb my sister? Shame on you! She is already a mother of 7 etc etc. My uncle went on to say that he was one of Jalan Meru’s tai-kor and if he ever tried anything funny, he would go after him. How I know this? We, the older kids were there for the fun of it and saw this guy, looking very ashamed, apologized and left.
As a little girl, I used to follow mum to a nearby hairdresser which she frequently at least once a fortnight. It was called ‘Shanghai’ and the lady boss, Aunty Mui, was another of my mum and Ah Khum’s ‘sei-tong.’(close friend) The girls at the hairdresser always looked forward to her coming. They would call out to each other “Peng Cheh leh lor” (Sister Peng is here). Those in their rooms would appear because it was ‘story time’. Mum would then tell them her version of the Cantonese serials being circulated on video while they were doing her hair and nails. I’ve often seen mum falling asleep while watching these shows, yet she managed to narrate the stories to those girls, maybe she improvised a lot? Of course the story was to be continued on her next visit, as it was told to whatever episode she had watched the night before.
Mum and Ah Khum used to speak in their native “Sei Yap” dialect whenever they had secrets or gossips to share or when speaking to my grandparents. In all her years of living in Malaysia, mum never learnt to speak Bahasa or English for that matter. The only English word she could pronounce fairly well was ‘foreman’. Often, Malay and Indian customers would greet and speak to her whenever she sat out in the shop. Mum merely smiled a lot while we replied on her behalf.
Many people assumed that mother was truly blessed and that she lived a life of leisure. It was true in a sense as we were all raised by Nanny who was with us until I was in std 5. My parents had to send Nanny back to Hong Kong as her diabetics had taken a turn for the worse and the doctors had to amputate her leg. After Nanny, we had this lady who used to be a caretaker of the association upstairs (before we rented it) to help out with the chores. Before we had the washing machine, there was another lady who came in on a daily basis to do the laundry. Mother was indeed a source of envy to both neighbours and friends alike.
What they didn’t know was that throughout their marriage, mum lived in total submission to my father. Father was considered an ideal husband because he worked hard, didn’t drink or gamble. He hated all forms of gambling so much so that my mum, who was a compulsive 4-ekor bettor in their earlier years of marriage, had to endure many a scolding for indulging in it. Father was quick tempered and found fault with almost anything eg the rice she served him was cold etc. It would not be wrong to say that mum was terrified of him. So were we, while we were growing up even though he had never once caned or punished us. If he was angry with one of us, he took it out on my mum, accusing her of not knowing how to raise her kids. Mum would then waved the cane at us and we would tell each other ‘mother’s making Zorro sign’, meaning we’d better behave for the rest of the day.
Because there were 7 of us kids, almost daily either 1 of us would manage to get on his nerves; meaning that perpetually 365 days a year mum had to endure his naggings. And she had learnt early never to talk back at him.
Even though we kids often look forward to CNY because of the angpows, we knew one thing for certain; Father’s naggings would start especially early on the first day of New Year. That was because Ah Khum would come really early so the naggings could be due to the fact that mum was not dressed, or the syrup not ready or the biscuits, not placed out in tupperwares yet etc.
Father’s nagging on one issue would last the entire day and there was no way my mum could avoid it. He would follow her from one room to another nagging, nagging, nagging. She would sometimes run upstairs, where my dad never ventured (because it was children’s corner) just to avoid him, pretending she had ironing to do.
When my sister was old enough to drive, we would often sneak out of the house one by one and took my mother out for supper etc. That was probably the best days of her life but that was cut short because all too soon Mei Leng had kids of her own and was caught up with her own chores and only came for short visits.
During the last few years of her life, mum’s arthritis worsened and she had problems walking and took to carrying a cane. Climbing stairs was especially cumbersome for her. She had to sit on the steps and raise herself one step at a time. The naggings from my dad never ceased and it was now worse for her because she couldn’t run upstairs like before. The old caretaker had also gone to live in an old folks home meaning mum had less and less people to talk to since she had difficulty getting around. Aunty Mui, her friend and hairdresser had already sold off her business and only visited occasionally. Her daughter Ah Pong, came to give my mum a haircut once in a while. Ah Khum visited as often as she could but the fact that she doesn’t drive meant she had to take 2 buses to reach us. It was thus inconvenient for her to come as often as she liked.
Mum made a decision to move out of her room that she shared with my dad and moved upstairs permanently. Father asked her about it but by now she was good at playing dumb and chose not to reply so after a while Father quit asking. After that she hardly ventured downstairs anymore except to use the toilet. Even her meals she took upstairs and she hardly spoke a word to any one of us.
My sister would visit and even then she would hardly say anything and Mei Leng would ask her if her leg was hurting and she would just nod. It was then decided that we would send her for a kneecap operation to try to restore the use of her legs. That was a bad decision, which finally costs mum her life.
In retrospect, even though we didn’t recognize it then, I think she must have gone into a state of depression and withdrew into herself. Instead of offering her any comfort, I chose to ignore her. Admittedly I couldn’t handle the fact that she had changed so much. As for my father, I have stopped fearing him ever years ago. Today, Father may be old and feeble but I have unresolved issues with him. Whoever assumes that children don’t understand or remember what is happening around them, think again. I remember our childhood days perfectly. That is why until today, the issues with my father, remain unresolved.
F
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