Chew Clan outside No. 10
From left to right: 9th aunt, 6th aunt, mum, 4th aunt, 2nd uncle, 1st uncle, 3rd uncle, 1st aunt, 2nd aunt, 3rd aunt and 8th aunt.
Three of my aunts stayed at No 10. Two I loved immensely, the third I feared.
Grandma had 10 daughters, one of whom died way before I was born. The aunts staying at No 10 were the eldest, the third and the ninth.
Oldest aunt or Tai Yee was a widow with an only daughter, my cousin Sook Ching. Being from a traditional family, I believe she was match made. Unfortunately her husband was a sickly man, and died not long after the marriage. All this took place before I was born, so I really cannot be accurate about the history. Eventually, she came back to her maternal home.
Tai Yee was a very kindly person, and totally dedicated to my grandmother and her brothers. Always dressed in a samfoo, she was the cook of the family. I really enjoyed hanging around the kitchen, watching her bustling about, managing two or three charcoal stoves all at once. It is amazing how effective these old-timers were. It used to be that for Ah Por’s birthday, all the food came from that kitchen. Now that I manage my own kitchen, I have several stoves and an oven, and still I was nowhere as efficient, nor can I entertain as many guests as my Tai Yee had to.
But the legacy that Tai Yee left for me was her selfless love. It was not easy to carry the stigma of a widow, who was dependent on her maternal family for support and sustenance. She never grumbled, even though I know hurtful words were spoken behind her back. She plodded on, loving her family, and totally doting on her only daughter. That daughter eventually did her proud, qualifying for a Colombo Plan scholaraship for Medicine. Her son-in-law is also a doctor, and she was survived by 4 amazing grandchildren. To the Chew Clan, she had a special place of honour, not just because she was the oldest daughter, but because of her fortitude, her warmth and her love for the family.
Third Aunt or Sam Yee was a totally different kettle of fish. She suffered from epilepsy, and when she had a fit, she was frightening – foaming in the mouth, rolled back eyes… But that is not the worse thing about her. She was a shudderingly bitter person. I have absolutely no idea how she became that way. My only excuse for her is that her falls may have damaged her brains.
Sam Yee loved the rediffusion – the only source of Cantonese melodramas before TVB serials became available. Sam Yee would sit directly underneath the box, and yatter along, sneering at the villains, and equating my Tai Yee with them. She was the hero of course. Somehow, she loathed my Tai Yee and everyone who took her side. Sometimes she got violent and would hit my aunt. She tried to make life so difficult, so unpleasant.
One day, I might write a short story featuring her character. I have no idea what made her so bitter. I heard her trying to justify her being unmarried, and often wondered if being single was a stigma she found hard to bear. She had huge eyes to begin with. After her cataracts operation, she had to wear some really awful glasses, the lenses of which made her eyes hugely malevolent.
I tried being nice and respectful to her. She was still an elder and deserved honour, my mum would remind me. I was from the next generation and had no place in judging her. Still, it was hard. Even my mild-mannered mum would be provoked to defend my Tai Yee and once even fought with her.
Then there is 9th aunt or Kow Yee. The youngest living in that household, she was the only driver. That was amazing freedom for her, and made her the errand girl of the household. Kow Yee is a beautiful lady and even into her late thirties, had suitors coming after her, knocking on the doors of No 10. For some reason, she shied away from marriage, and turned all away. Much later, I think she regretted that, but she probably left it a little late.
Kow Yee was a little livewire. She could drive, and hence she would take us everywhere. She loved to eat, and her joy was to buy food back. InPenang, portions were small – so we ate very frequently. Especially when out of town aunts came for a visit, Kow Yee would buy us breakfast from Pulau Tikus, morning tea break from the tok-tok meen (noodle hawker) seller that announced his arrival by clapping a wooden rattler, lunch was cooked by Tai Yee, tea from the Indian man selling curry puff and kueh kueh from his hand carried baskets, dinner by Tai Yee again, and supper – Chee Cheong Fun from Larut Lane. She was the one who brought us swimming, drove us toCameronHighlandsfor holidays or toIpohto visit Yee Chye and Taiping to visit Sook Ching. She was everybody’s favourite aunt. I can write an entire blog post about her.
Three aunts – such different temperaments. One could have been bitter, but chose to stay strong. She left her past behind, and instead of being a whiny widow, contributed to the family and made a mark. Another allowed bitterness to eat into her, and became the bane of the family. Yet another brought life and joy, a breath of fresh air, to an otherwise dull house simply by her generosity and love for the younger ones.
I remember visiting Kow Yee several years back. She is now living in a home. At that time, she was quite deaf, and dementia had already set in. I visited her with my husband. Weng Foon warned me she might not remember me. To my amazement, not only did she remember me, she remembered my husband and even asked about my children. I felt so touched. It confirmed what I already knew – this aunt loves me. Despite my being so faraway, and such an infrequent visitor, somewhere in the recesses of her memory, I still hold a fond place, was a pleasant part of her history.
What is life? We come and we go. Yet in our coming and going, we touch some lives and we scar others. May the evidence of my existence be one of touching more lives than scarring them.
