No one can quite prepare for the pronouncement.
“The biopsy shows the tumour is malignant.”
Sitting there, a million thoughts raced through my mind, or at least I assumed they did. I cannot even remember if I thought ahead and worried about a whole host of things, or I just sat there, bewildered and so traumatized my mind was a blank.
I was 42. To all intents and purposes, I should not be diagnosed with cancer. I had done all the right things – I was not on the pill, except for a few months right at the beginning of the marriage, I had children young, the youngest child was born when I was only 31, I breast fed all my children, I ate reasonably well, was mildly overweight – but that was about it. I did have a very stressful time in the year 2000. Surely that was not enough to cause this “sudden” tumour? Just in 1 year?
The “whys” and “how comes” soon gave way to thoughts of the children. My son was going to do his A levels the year after and my youngest should be preparing for her PSLE. Important exams and they certainly should not have to worry about mum on top of all that. What could I do to minimize their worries and their fears? In the midst of all that, I remember thinking it was a good thing I got married and had children young. Imagine if they were still toddlers!
After a harrowing time in the hospital, getting registered and signing forms so as to be ready for an almost immediate warding for surgery, it was time to go home to break the news to the children. That must surely be one of the most difficult things I had ever done in my life.
By the time we got back, it was almost dinner time. My husband and I forced ourselves to eat. After dinner, we sat the children down and told them the news. I was careful to mention people who had cancer and still lived to a ripe old age. Still, the silence that ensued was so uncomfortable and so unnatural. My husband was uncharacteristically quiet. The patient had to do something to alleviate the tension.
“It’s okay.” I chirped with a cheerfulness I really did not feel. “I have no intention of dying and leaving you to your father. I cannot trust him to feed you properly. He will only give you junk food, and you know I will not have that.”
Uneasy giggles and a mock protest from the husband followed. I could not bear the tension, so I said, “Now, let us go shopping.”
We went to the malls, a normal family on an evening out. It was the quietest shopping trip I had ever made, but it was better than moping at home. In any case, for the youngest one at least, it reinforced the idea that cancer was just an illness and one that could be controlled, if not totally cured. Besides we had God on our side.
Did I panic, did I cry? Of course I did. I did that when I was alone in the mornings. I prayed and complained to God. I verbalized all my fears.
It was not easy. I had to come to terms with death. I had to accept that possibility and to check my spirit if I really believed what I had been professing – that I believed in eternal life and salvation through Christ Jesus. I also had to surrender my children to the only parents I could trust them to – my God, and with His guidance, my husband. I had to convince myself that without me, their lives could still be amazing. It was immensely difficult, and there were upswings and downturns. By the grace of God, there were more ups than downs, and I found peace slowly being more dominant than fear.
With that settled, I began to fight to live. You see, I could only fight when the most negative outcome – death – had lost its sting, and when the most crippling emotion – fear, was replaced with calm.
I was not afraid of death, but I was not going to be cheated of life. I was not afraid of death, but I refused to allow my children to be deprived of a mother, if I could help it.
The fight continues today, ten years after the first pronouncement. How to fight? The most important battle is in the mind and in the emotions. I refuse to allow cancer to occupy my every thought. I refuse it to control how I feel. Sure a good medical report uplifts the spirit and a poor one can throw me into depression. I try though not to wallow in the emotions. I allow some time to work the issues out, but I have learnt not to allow negative emotions to dominate my life.
I have a life to live – and cancer is just an obstacle along the way. There are many other challenges in life, and some of these, especially when they involve the children and the husband must take precedence over needless anxieties and fears.
Many cancer survivors/patients talk about how cancer taught them to live life more fully. I have never felt that way. Cancer or not, I live life the way I would have lived life – in my own laid back manner. I do not give cancer any credit for the way I live, nor do I blame it for the not so positive aspects of my life. Yes I do have an issue with the medications I have been on – they really made me weightier! And yes it has made me more aware of healthcare and its attending costs. Nonetheless, cancer is just what it is – one of the ailments that afflict human beings, a nuisance we need to learn to live with until it can be eradicated for good.
I do feel immense sympathy for those cancer patients who suffer much pain and agony. I am by no means downplaying their suffering. But for those whose life is still fairly normal, and life can be almost perfectly normal, do not allow cancer to control you. Avoid moping. Acknowledge its annoying presence. Embrace the joys that surround you, if you will only open your eyes to see them.
And live on.
This was first published by publichouse.
When I was growing up, my mother drummed the idea of abstinence into me. My aunts repeated her nagging. My teachers talked about it often. Even the movies promoted it. Woe betide any one who did not practice abstinence. They all came to a rotten end.
Many years later, I too preach abstinence to my children. And wonders never cease – we still remain friends, even on Facebook. Some of their teachers support this, and certainly the church tries. But the media paints an entirely different picture. It is entirely more cool and with it not to practice abstinence. Anyone who preaches it has to be a fuddy duddy fundie, one who is completely out of touch with the modern world.
So while I have no details, I was quite pleasantly surprised to read that MOE is going to include this archaic concept into their new sex-ed programme. Contraception apparaently will be taught but abstinence too will be emphasized. Good for you MOE.
The world has indeed changed. Sit coms make sexual relationships look funny, warm and inclusive. The hit comedy series, “Friends” sold the concept that changing partners amongst friends is funny ha-ha…and not emo sob-sob. Sex is just a part of life – a fun part of life – so relax – don’t make such a fuss over it.
The inconsistency with reality is quite stark. I never understood how a society that took sexual dalliance so lightly could be so harsh when President Clinton was found to have had sexual episodes outside of marriage. Why are politicians judged to be morally inappropriate for office if they have been found to be unfaithful to their spouses? Can anyone explain why for every couple who are open to their partners having sex with others, many more are hurt if this were to happen to them? Infidelity is one of the most hurtful events in a relationship.
Yes I am a Christian. And yes, my religion advocates abstinence. But my mother was not, and neither were my aunts. And if I were not Christian, I would still advocate abstinence. I don’t care if you judge me as conservative, fuddy duddy and out of touch with the modern world.
Abstinence is a virtue, and like all things virtuous, has to be taught. Abstinence is tough to practice in this modern world, and that makes it even more important for parents and teachers alike to strengthen our children’s resolve to practice it.
Why abstinence? Apart from the fact that “safe” sex is a misnomer, abstinence is about self worth and value. It is about respecting self and one’s eventual partner. The progression of abstinence is fidelity. Fidelity is one of the key threads in the maintenance of a stable social fabric.
There is something about infidelity that tears people apart. The hurt that it causes is immense. The sense of betrayal, the loss of trust and the feelings of rejection often break a family up. The ones most hurt tend to be the children. In all my years as a teacher, I have found that children who come from homes where parents are divorced or are in the process of getting a divorce, tend to suffer depression themselves. Many think somehow they are to be blamed for their parents failure to stay together.
Recently there is a spate of articles reporting incestuous relationships between siblings – the siblings were totally unaware that they were related. With multiple relationships and separations, with children borne from different sexual partners, this is becoming an issue of concern, and perhaps is the most extreme “proof” that fidelity is important.
In today’s world, we are so focused on our own rights, our own happiness. We have lost sight that we are part of a bigger whole, and that it is not always only about us. Take divorce for instance. No matter how hurt you have been, getting a divorce may mean liberation to you, but it will bring anguish to others whom you purport to love – the children, the parents. Infidelity is on the rise. Many get into adulterous relationships for frivolous reasons, often without fully counting the cost. The result often is so much pain and hurt. It also results in a society that is made up of very broken individuals and homes.. If one were to learn to stop, to say no to our own desires, to start to think about the other, very important people in our lives, perhaps many tragedies could have been prevented. (note I am generalizing here…there are instances where divorce is more than justified)
To me, teaching abstinence helps teach self control. It teaches the important role sex plays in a relationship. Trust me, it is easy to learn about contraception and “safe” sex. It is much harder to say no to inappropriate relationships.
And no, I do not condemn those who do not practice abstinence, especially if you have reached adulthood. In fact, in this day and age, more people will laugh at you if you choose to abstain than otherwise. Hence abstinence has to be taught – it is a far harder choice to make
While the communion elements were being passed around in church last Sunday, the keyboardist played the song, “It is well with my soul.” Somehow that reminded me of another song, “Tears in Heaven” by Eric Clapton. Two songs, two tragedies. I could write something about this, I thought to myself. I should call it A Tale of Two Songs.
Eric Clapton wrote the first verse to this hit song after the tragic death of his son, Conor. The four year old boy fell 53 floors to his death. Clapton wrote the first verse of the song, and asked Will Jennings to fill in the rest of the song. The result is a highly emotional, tragic song. There is something to be said about creations that come right from the heart. It is no wonder that this is one of the biggest hits for Eric Clapton. Take a look at the lyrics of the first verse:
Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven
Will it be the same
If I saw you in heaven
I must be strong, and carry on
Cause I know I don’t belong
Here in heaven
Here is the cry of a man who believes that he will never see his son again – it is a tragedy without any glimmer of hope for the future. The weirdest part of it all is that he assumes that his son has gone to heaven – a place which would be out of bounds to him, a place he could never get to. The depth of despair is poignant. The tragedy is not so much in the untimely death, it’s in the total loss of hope.
Contrast this to the story ofChicagolawyer, Horatio G Spafford. In 1870 his only son, then four died of scarlet fever. A year later, Spafford who had invested heavily in real estate along the shores ofLake Michiganfound every one of these properties destroyed by fire. To take a break from these unhappy events, Spafford decided to take his family on a vacation. Just before they could set sail, a last minute business development rendered the trip impossible for Spafford. Unwilling to ruin the family holiday, Spafford put his wife and four daughters onboard, intending to join them later. Nine days later, Spafford received a telegram from his wife, Anna. The telegram read, “Saved alone” Their ship had collided with another and sank in just twelve minutes. Her last memory was that of her baby being torn out of her arms by the violent waters. Anna was saved because of a plank floated under her body as she fell unconscious into the water. Upon gaining consciousness, she was filled with utter despair. It was then she heard a voice – You were saved for a purpose.
Spafford set sail immediately at the news. Upon reaching the spot where the tragedy occurred, the captain called him to the bridge. Spafford then returned to his cabin and wrote the song, “It is well with my soul”
Look at the lyrics
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!
His reaction to multiple tragedies was so different from Eric Clapton’s. This is not a judgement of spirituality or religiosity. What strikes me is the importance of hope. As a person, what strengths we have in our inner man is very dependent on what we have been fed, what we have been told is important, what we believe in. For many Singaporeans for instance, we are told again and again the importance of academia and meritocracy. I’d like to see any man come out of a personal tragedy strong just based on academia alone.
As parents, we need to strengthen our children with hope and peace. For the Christian parents, we need to help our children understand the importance of the biblical concept of eternity, the existence of a God who may allow personal tragedies, but will never leave His child to struggle with life alone. As we dig deeper within, His Spirit enables us to walk on, to still find joy and peace from a well that can never dry. This is what distinguishes us from the rest of the world. While tragedies can strike anyone at anytime, hope ensures we have the wherewithal to withstand the storm, the peace to handle the devastation. For us, time does not dull the pain. Time brings us nearer to a time of liberation from all pain.
Filed under: Family Stories and tributes, hello mrs tsang goodbye mrs tsang
Hello Mrs Tsang, Goodbye Mrs Tsang.
The only person I have ever known who laughed, like Santa, with a ho-ho-ho, was chuckling. She was delighted to drink the tea her new granddaughter-in-law served, entirely bemused when her grandson nodded in cheeky approval as his bride pledged submission to his leadership and beamed with pride as the newly weds presented a duet,
Lucky- cover by Jason Mraz. She ate with gusto the entire day, so pleased was she to say hello to the newest Mrs Tsang. As my daughter wheeled her around the restaurant, she waved to her relatives in a queenly manner, certainly no less royal than the Queen herself. She was after all born in the same year as Queen Elizabeth, and must have imbibed some regality.
So imagine my shock when the phone call came early the very next morning, Sunday. 9 October, that she was not well. That afternoon, when I visited her, she held my hands and would not let go. I told her I loved her, and knew the end was near.
I did not know how I would take her passing, for I truly loved her – all of us did. When the end came 3 days later, it turned out that while all of us would miss her, we were all glad that she went peacefully. We were determined to celebrate her life. The first night was supposed to be a quiet affair, since the obituary would only be published the next day. A whole crowd came. We had a time of worship and tributes. The next day, the wake service was hilarious with more laughter than tears. All the grandchildren presented their eulogies – each sharing contained touching moments, and humorous incidents involving their grandma. During the funeral service, it was the turn of the daughters-in-law. Through it all, there was much joy exhibited – a sharing of the life of a person who handed out laughs the way Santa handed out presents. If the services were not held in a funeral parlour, people would never have guessed they were wake services.
What a mother-in-law I had. I was so privileged, so honoured to have had such wonderful in-laws. Casting my mind back to the sharing, I would smile at the words of some, and tear at others. Something that struck me was what my sister-in-law Jenny shared.
“Mum and Dad, by showing so much peace when Kenneth and I were incarcerated under the ISA gave my own parents hope, and helped them find God and the strength that only He could give.”
Yes, mum may have been an ordinary housewife, but even as her heart was broken when her eldest son, to our bewilderment, was taken away, she made it a point not to burden the rest of us with her woes. She encouraged each of us to continue to live as normally as we could, for there was nothing much we could do except trust God. Dad was the same. It must have been extremely difficult for them. On the one hand, they had to suffer the raw pain that this dealt their hearts. On the other hand, there were other children and their careers to think of. The other children and their spouses were all working, in one way or the other, with the government.
Those were difficult years. None of us dared to ask too many questions; we could feel the pain that my in-laws hid in their hearts. We had no clue why Ken and Jen were arrested. We did not know many of the so-called co-conspirators, and as we found out later, Ken and Jen did not know all of them either. It was agonizing to watch them being interviewed on TV – we listened hard, but nothing made sense.
I was reading DPM Rear Admiral Teo’s comments on the need of the ISA. All these years, for me at least, the question was not whether or not there was a need for the ISA. I can even accept the existence of the ISA if it is indeed necessary for the security of the country. However, when such a system is in place, surely there is a chance that the wrong people could be arrested? What then is the proviso to right a wrong? What redress is there for those wrongfully arrested, especially since there will be no public trials? If there is no courage to face our mistakes, no proviso in the event we are wrong, then we do not deserve this blank cheque to put someone behind bars without trial.
Yes, we are family members and obviously we believe in Ken and Jen’s innocence. After so many years, we still have no concrete evidence otherwise. While mum and dad carried their unanswered questions to the graves, many ex-ISA detainees are still alive. Were they really guilty? To tell us that there was a need to put away what were perceived as security threats is one thing, but if there were mistakes made, should not an apology, at the very least, be made? Or are we always perfect?
Frankly we have moved on. The generation below us did not even know this part of the family history until recently, when social media brought this to the fore. To receive answers now will make very little difference to our lives. Answering the questions, however, will give credibility to the people who are advocating the continuance of the ISA. It will assure the people that moral transparency is practiced.
To my mother-in-law’s credit, whatever pain she bore, she did not allow it to affect the lives of those around her. Apart from shouting death threats at Serena Williams when she wanted her to lose, she showed no visible bitterness. That is the way we Tsangs live, by the grace of God, and by her example. We will try to walk in her footsteps, continue to laugh and love, to leave bitterness aside.
Goodbye Grandma Tsang. May all the other Mrs Tsangs make you proud and continue your tradition of strength and joy.
Filed under: Uncategorized
They did this cover especially for the wedding. I don’t believe they have even seen the video yet! video made just 2 days before the wedding. Enjoy.
Filed under: Uncategorized
Sunrise, Sunset
Sunrise in the Serengeti
Many years ago, far too many for me to want to remember, I was a freshie at Raffles Hall. Those were the days when “orientation” games were “optional”. I did not regret participating, though some of the games were really rough. It toughened me and certainly taught me EQ very quickly. I was a survivor then and I am a survivor still!
In any case, my seniors found out very quickly I could sing. One night, someone requested a song from “Fiddler on the Roof”. The song was “Sunrise Sunset”. I went on to sing this for the inter-hostel talent-time and won the second prize. That song somehow became my signature, and every now and then, someone would shout out to me, “Hey Sunrise. Can sing the song again?”
In the movie, the song was sung at a wedding, at the cusp of the holocaust. It was a bitter sweet moment for the couple and for the parents as they reminisced. It was a song about parents wanting to impart wisdom to the children, the passing of childhood, hope for the future – yes – it is an “emo” song. Now that my son is going to get married, this song and the lyrics are occupying my mind.
More than the wedding, this song reminds me of the glory of a wondrous sunrise, and the beauty of a splendid sunset.
We all love the sunrises of our lives – the birth of a child, the start of a new dream, our wedding day. We anticipate the moment, and we cherish these wonderful events. We look forward to the days after, nursing hopes and dreams. And so we should.
We often neglect to appreciate sunsets though. The chorus of the song goes:-
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears
Between sunrise and sunset, we bask in the glories of success. Between sunrise and sunset, we toil in patient hope. Between sunrise and sunset we weep in desperation. The highs, the lows and the plateaus, we have journeyed through them all. If hopes and dreams are the ingredients for the wonderment of sunrise, then the journey through mountains, valleys and plains surely are the spices of the poignant sunset.
Too often we fail to appreciate sunsets. I was not there to see the sunset of my uncle. When I cleared the ancestral home before handing over to the new owners, I found stacks of letters I wrote to him when I was away. You cannot imagine how I felt then – I felt so loved. Yet I missed being there in the last years of his life. I missed witnessing how like the best aged wine, his journey had made him who he was, the love he showed in his quiet way, his fierce protection over his family, including his sister’s daughter, his sisters’ children.
I was not there for my mother’s sunset. Hers was a life of insecurity, of sacrifice and of love. I was not there enough to fully appreciate how that translated in the last years of her life. She died suddenly after a car accident.
My mother-in-law is now in her eighties. She’s a dream mother-in-law, always cheerful and encouraging. These days, she’s frail. Mentally alert still, and always enjoying food, one day she told my daughter, “Sarah, when you get a good job, buy crabs for your ma-ma with your first pay, ok?” My daughter said to me later, “Ma-ma is so cute.” Indeed she is. She is getting difficult now, probably frustrated by her lack of mobility. She can be trying and cranky. Thankfully, the joviality and warmth which characterize her life is still very evident and much appreciated by her grandchildren. They will sit next to her, talk into her ear since she is hard of hearing, laughing at her off-tangent responses because she misheard, stroking her wrinkled hands or allowing her to stroke their hair as they keep her company.
Yes, old people can indeed wear our patience. They can be exasperating and oh so unreasonable. If we can take some time to look beyond the difficulties, there is still much beauty, so many stories and so many lessons to learn. You can weave many a tale using the lines on the face and the hands. What you need is time and patience to appreciate the beauty of the sun getting ready to set, of a life that has journeyed part way with you.
Some years ago, I worked in an insurance agency. There I was exposed to the stark reality of death. One day, my boss decided that instead of just bringing some relief to widows and heirs, we should bring some Christmas cheer to old folks in homes and critically ill patients in hospices. We would be caroling and bringing some gifts. I still remember that one of the songs we chose was “ Yi Jian Li Wu” or “A Gift”.
The chorus went
Sheng ming you xian, shi guang ye hui zhou, ru guo ni bu zhen xi, ji hui nan liu…..
li wu shui ran hao, ru guo ni bu yao, ni zhe me neng gou de dao, zhe me neng de dao.
This means life is fleeting, time waits for no one. If we do not appreciate opportunities as they come, they may be lost forever. No matter how wonderful a gift is, it is only as good as it is accepted and valued.
As we sang those lines, there was commotion from a room. The nurses were in a frenzy, there were shouts, then silence. A blanket covered a still face and tears streamed down my face.
Sunset Serengeti
As we come to terms with an aging population, do we even try to make sunsets as beautiful as they can be? When we talk about increasing our young by importing foreigners, we are concerned about the economic viability of our country. These foreigners will probably miss the sunsets of their loved ones back home, just like me with my uncle and my mother. Here inSingapore, the struggles of life, the insufficiency of affordable elderly care will cloud the sky and mar the sunsets of our own elderly or sick. What are we doing with regards making it easier for the younger ones to look after their aging elders, their chronically ill family members? We are human beings before we are citizens, we need help.
How many photo moments have we lost, when we got there too late, and the sun had already set? The same is true of life. After sunset is darkness. We need to make a concerted effort, as individuals and as a country, to try to be there.
Cheer up! It’s not all gloom and doom. There is still the moon and the stars – the memories that we have, that lingering on can still encourage us and move us. Still, try not to miss sunsets, for they are beautiful.
As for me, I am going to enjoy a glorious sunrise…my son is getting married!!
Filed under: Uncategorized
Who can forget the expression on Princess Diana’s face as she said softly, “Well, there were three of us in this marriage, so it was a bit crowded.” There was so much pain reflected in those eyes, in the slightly bowed head, the pursed lips. Hers was a pain of rejection, but it did not start with her marriage breakdown.
We have been misled. When we were young, the ending of fairy tales tells us that after marriage, we will live happily ever after. The romantic comedies tell us that marriage is about two people. We have been taught that “Two is company, three is a crowd. We hear pet statements like, “I am marrying you, not your mother.”
I hate to be a party pooper – but marriage is about crowds.
If you read about Princess Diana’s life, you will discover that her family expected a son. When she was born, they had no name ready for her. She got her name two weeks later. She was baptized in the local church, with commoner godparents, whereas her brother was baptized in Westminster Abbey, with Queen Elizabeth II as the principal godparent. Her sister dated Prince Charles before her. Her parents’ marriage failed. She was a poor student, failing her ‘O” Levels twice. This was a girl who experienced rejection after rejection from people who mattered. She was almost an afterthought at key points in her life. Hardly the CV of someone likely to succeed in anything.
The painful truth is Diana brought a crowd into the marriage, just as Prince Charles did. So do the rest of us mere mortals.
We bring into our marriage our parents and our upbringing. We bring into marriage the culture we grew up in, and how that culture shaped our expectations. We bring into marriage our hurts and our successes. We have to accept in-laws and understand that they had a hand in moulding our spouses. The more we understand them, the better prepared we will be. We have to live with at least two sets of crowds, crowds who ordinarily may not even choose to mingle.
When children come into the picture, it gets even more crowded. There are dependents to consider – their demands and our expectations to balance.
I was surfing the net for samples of marriage vows and samples of what an officiating pastor might say. I found this one really refreshing. This is taken from A Wedding Notebook.
For life is a dance, and marriage is the choosing of eternal partners for that dance.
I know, I know. The romantic in us will see the perfect waltz, the flouncy skirt swirling gently as the love-struck couple gaze deeply into each other’s eyes.
Can I burst that bubble again? Dancing, especially for the inexperienced dancer, means frequent stepping of toes, bumping into other dancers or having some one else trying to cut in your dance. The music might change. Just when you get used to the waltz, all of a sudden you are required to dance hip-hop.
Sometimes there is confusion as to what dance is being demanded of you. One could be dancing the salsa, and the other the quickstep. Even with the same song, many things could go wrong. That is why I love Perry Como’s song – “Papa loves Mambo”.
Part of the lyrics go:
He goes to, she goes fro
He goes fast, she goes slow
He goes left, she goes right
Papa’s looking for mama, but mama is nowhere in sight.
And don’t forget the crowds that refuse to leave. If life is a dance, and your spouse your life partner, then the dance is one where there are many people holding on to your garment as you gyrate to the song. The tricky part is how to still stay together as partners.
Just like marriage is not about two people alone, divorce is not just about you. When the principal dancers fall, the entire crowd holding on will trip and stumble too.
Sometime this month, I would have been married for 28 years. I am still learning how to perform the perfect dance. The crowds we brought in have more or less settled to the routine. Some have added interesting variations to the dance. Others have tried to dominate, and if not checked in time, could have caused the dance to fall apart.
Even now, occasionally, a member of this mini dance troupe might suffer arthritis, and cause me to lose my step. Even now, the dance is not perfect, and that keeps me on my toes! One thing is for certain – this dance has enriched my life and brought many more smiles than tears.
So before you get married, take a good look at the crowd you cannot shake. Can you learn to dance with them? While I like to watch Discovery Channel’s, “Say Yes to the Dress” I know that marriage is not about saying yes to the dress alone. It is about saying yes to the spouse and his entourage.
No matter what Mr Lee KY says, the marriage institution is not to be entered into lightly. Yet, don’t be too afraid. Just be prepared.
Cue Music!
So finally I was there. Wearing the ill-fitting hospital gown, I felt naked and very alone. Those were the days when Kandang Kerbau did not allow husbands to be there with their wives. The labour ward was dark. It was night after all. The nurses chatted amongst themselves. Apart from the occasional, courteous, “Are you all right?” I was largely ignored. Their matter-of-factness was a stark contrast to my near panic.
From an adjacent ward, I could hear the screams of another woman.
“Doctor! Call the doctor! Aiyoh! I want my husband, brother, uncle….!”
Hardly reassuring sounds. The nurses on duty though were nonplussed. Then a wail, and silence from the new mother. For me, it was just the beginning of a very long night.
What were my dreams for my child? At that point, all I wanted was to be sure that he had ten perfect little fingers and toes! And would he hurry up and make his appearance and put me out of my misery?
Talk about grandiose aspirations.
Frankly, a parent’s desire for their children is rather straightforward. For us, my husband and I, and probably for countless others, the early hints of what we hope for come in the form of name choices.
We have named our children to be of good character and to enjoy favour and blessedness. We want our children to have the courage and self-sacrificial attitude of the biblical Jonathan, to be able to listen before acting (Samantha meaning to listen) and to have great self esteem (Sarah, meaning princess)
We want them to know their very existence is an act of grace, a gift from God (Jonathan – gracious gift of God). Their Chinese names reflect important qualities that we hope they will possess: grace, righteousness, purity, and love.
A quick check of popular names, especially Chinese ones, reveals that parents select names to embody their desire for their kids. Hence many are named in the hope they will have courage, perseverance, good fortune, integrity, health and of course for the girls, beauty.
This is a powerful, symbolic act. During my teacher training days, we were taught something called the self-fulfilling prophecy. It appears that if we keep telling our students that they are stupid and are sure to fail, then they will. We were told to always use positive words, words of encouragement and not of condemnation. It follows therefore that names, something that we hear everyday, and from many lips, should be positive and reflect who we want to be.
Sadly, this is changing. Celebrities and the common folk alike seem to think strange-sounding, newly coined words make good names. The craziest name I have heard recently is a name pronounced Apsody..like in rhapsody? Apart from having no meaning, guess how it is spelt? ….. ABCDE.
Silly names aside, the point is, no matter how the world changes, a parent’s desire for the children remains the same. We want the child to have goodly character and the wherewithal to conquer the obstacles that life predictably hurls at their faces.
A friend of mine, Simon, while in theological training, was very attracted to a fellow student, May. He prayed, and told the Almighty his very earthly desire. Lo and behold, his bible reading led him to a verse that reassured him. “I will grant you the desires of your heart.” Excitedly, he was getting ready to confess his love, only to find out that the lady had just gotten engaged.
“Sophia,” he asked. “Did I hear wrong, or was God kidding me?”
This was years after the event.
“Did you get married? Are you really happy with your wife?” I asked.
“Oh definitely! Amy is the best wife any man can ask for.”
“So why did you think that God was kidding? The desire of your heart was to find your soul-mate. You just assumed, wrongly, that May was the one.” (above story not word perfect and names have been changed)
Like Simon, many parents confuse the path with the final destination. It does not matter how the world changes. What parents want is for their children to find success and contentment in life. For many of us, we think the path to that success is through academic excellence. We want them sheltered from the evils that lurk.
But academic excellence is not for everyone, and is by no means the only route to success. Furthermore, there is no way we can protect our children from every mishap, or solve every problem that they are destined to face. They will get their share of bruises and cuts, physically as well as emotionally. What we want is for them to have the strength to overcome, and the courage to accept setbacks without succumbing to bitterness or defeat.
We need to be there for the children as they look for the best path in the maze of life, a path that will suit their abilities and their ideals. Lead them down some, but also allow them to turn back and try another. Be an advisor, not a dictator. Learn when we should be the nursemaid, and not the bodyguard. We need to help them to equip themselves for the journey.
As for what parents really want for their children? The clue is very often in the name.
I was on my way for my regular check-up. I was not feeling confident, to say the least. The last half year had not been easy. I had to change medication, since my body was getting immune to what I had been taking for nearly 3 years. The next drug I was put on gave me bad side effects, and I had mobility issues and horrendous water retention problems. So I had to change meds yet again. The previous drugs had made me put on a lot of weight over the last 6 years. With this latest change, I was losing weight – finally! However, to lose 6kg in 2 months was bound to give my oncologist the jitters. So I was dreading the visit.
At the mrt station, I saw an old couple. They had streaks of white, between grey-looking tufts of hair. The man had on a pair of sunglasses – the very yesterday, two-toned kind. He looked incongruous, in his baggy short-sleeved shirt and trousers that had seen better days. The old lady had on the typical middle-aged style blouse, the kind that my mum used to wear when she hit fifty. Strange how, though I am already 52, I never dreamt of wearing this style of floral print, loose blouse with collar and short sleeves that can be found in almost every store in Chinatown.
Why did I notice them, you ask? Aren’t these typical, especially in mature estates like Potong Pasir? Yes, in appearance they are typical. What made them stand out for me was that they were holding hands.
No, they were not holding hands to give each other walking support. They were walking well enough. They were holding hands and swinging them as they walked, very much the way that good friends do. There was such an aura of care and affection that I stared at them for a while, a smile slowly widening on my face. I wish I had a camera with me, but I knew the lens could not capture what exuded from within. There was an air of comfort, an air of acceptance that this couple shared. It was quite evidently the fruit of a lifetime of being there for each other, whether life served durians, bittergourd or rambutans. This ease that they shared really made my day.
This made me pause and think. Most of us, if we have lived long enough, would have had our share of sorrows, our challenges. Life is not getting easier either. The young couple worry about having a home of their own, the middle manager is constantly anxious about being retrenched and replaced by a cheaper, foreign talent, the less healthy worry about healthcare costs, those approaching 55 wonder if their meager savings will see them through retirement…
We can choose to focus on our troubles, allow them to constantly overwhelm us. We can even try endlessly to help those in need and wonder if we can ever make a difference. We can get frustrated at the government, and lay all our ill-will at their feet. We can choose to be bitter and be consumed by angst.
Or we can choose to balance our life by looking out for situations that bring hope. In the midst of despair, many have risen and overcome, but many of us choose not to see these victories.
For me, this couple represents one such situation. They do not appear to be affluent. The lines on the faces show that their life could not have been easy. Yet, they have made it together. They are still there for each other. They hold hands when younger couples, a few years into marriage, often neglect to do. Perhaps in the middle of their journey together, their differences almost split them up – I have no way of knowing. What is important to me is that they give me hope that marriages can survive, with or without wealth.
On the way home, I complained to my husband that though I could move better, I was so slow, and tire so easily. Then we both saw an old man, shuffling along, cane in hand. He was on his own, and my husband, a tinge of admiration behind the jest, remarked that he must be moving at the speed of 5 cm per minute. Well, we could see his disability – but my husband and I saw his determination.
Success need not mean wealth. Victories are not measured by accolades. These two simple examples illustrate this.
Whenever I was depressed by how tough life was, I used to look out the window of my apartment, and stared at all the windows in the neighbouring apartments. I told myself to shut up, because there were people in worse positions than me. I thought I was clever to have found a way to console myself.
Now however, I have a different approach. I will look at the simple triumphs of everyday people. Then I will tell myself the when the going gets tough, the ordinary person can get going, one step at a time.
While we do not deny the struggles we go through, we need to give ourselves hope. Worrying and rage seldom bear fruit. Hope does. Being thankful is the best way to chase away bitterness. The good book teaches that we do best by filling our minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious – the best, not the worst, the beautiful, not the ugly, things to praise and not things to curse.
I cannot summarise it better.
