My dearest darling Frances,
I awake reluctantly each morning
To another day without you,
My heart skips a beat,
My mind clouded by the fog of sleep,
Eyes darting around the room,
Searching for a hint of you,
Listening for your voice,
For that familiar shuffle of the feet,
Waiting for your scent to drift across,
But callous reality is all I get to meet
Confronting me with your impossible loss.

Fatigue has set in my love,
Grieving is like a perpetual fight,
Seventy seven tormentful days
Multiplied by equally empty nights
Exhaustion has finally overtaken me,
My body wracked by the flu,
I surrender to the depradation of time
Crumpled into a heap of weary bones,
Paralysed by the mist of mourning,
My heavy eyes and aching head
Beg to submit to the siren of sleep,
Tempting me to never awake again,
Promising me that I can forever keep
Those carefree memories of you alive,
A land where we never again have to weep,
Reunited as one soul in two bodies side by side.

Will you still be there in my mind when I awake,
Your youthful splendour frozen in time,
Will you still remember me when I am old,
That familiar smile and craggy lips gone cold,
Will you recognise my swollen eyes,
Distorted with the tears that never run dry,
What I wonder will be left,
When all's been done and said
When my spine starts to fold,
And my mind starts to fade,
Promise you will be there,
After my story has been told,
And my mortal self has grown cold,
To free me from my eternal now
And take me back in your arms,
To reunite us somehow
Along pristine shores and white sands
Where the ocean blue waters embrace us as one again.

-ColinO.sg

Day 85 (Thu 29th June 2006): My very first bug! Today, I have joined papa at being sick. The bugs have entered my body. I started with a runny nose last night. I didn't sleep very well. Papa says I don't have a fever, but my nose is slightly blocked. Papa is now bug-free, but he still feels tired. I hope that I can get well soon too.

We apologise for the recent breakdown in transmission. In case you have been wondering. No, he hasn't joined mummy, nor given up on this blog, neither has he had his electricity and phone lines cut off (yet). He's just been feeling incredibly lazy. But seriously, papa has been feeling sick this past week. He's caught a nasty bug which puts him to sleep early every night. He says to tell you that normal services will resume very soon. Sooner than you think. Papa says he is still alive, so once he has refuelled, topped up his water and oil, we will drag ourselves onwards once again. Thank you.

Day 80 (Sat, 24th June 2006): Today we had a chance to meet up with Father Gino. My Aunty Godma Di arranged a prayer meeting for papa and myself to see him. Father Gino is supposed to have the Gift of Healing. He is a towering, kind and gentle man. It was an interesting outing. Thank you Father Gino. Thank you Aunty Godma Di.

Day 78 (Thu 22nd June 2006): Papa brought me to the HSBC Tree Top Walk on Thursday. My Aunty Elena and Godma Audrey joined us. Together with my cousins Andrew, Timothy and Alex, we had an enjoyable morning. It was cool under the trees. The view from the tree tops was beautiful. It was good exercise. I managed to stay awake for the first half of the walk. But it was a long walk. I fell asleep eventually. I can't wait for the day when I can run together with my cousins.

Day 77 (Wed 21st June 2006): Papa thinks I have recently passed another baby milestone. He says I have become more aware of my surroundings over the last few days. I am staring more intently at people when they talk to me. I also seem fascinated with all the noise that my cousins make at home. There is a box that sits on the table with colorful moving pictures that I like too. Papa was groaning when he noticed me staring at it the other day. I sense that I will grow to like that funny little box one day. I am also starting to get to know my hands better. I like licking and sucking on them. Maybe that's why all this bubbly water keeps flowing from my mouth so much. Papa calls it drooling- the same effect that girls will have on me in ten years time apparently, he says. He said something about starting younger these days. I really don't know. Do girls taste better than my hands?

Papa says that I have also started to 'talk' more. After two whole months, he finally notices I'm actually talking to him. What does a kid have to do these days to get noticed. I am usually most talkative in the mornings when I first wake up. I can see that all my gagga-ing seems to bring a smile to papa's tired face. It makes me happy to see him happy too. Mummy would have been proud of me. Papa seems thrilled that I can now respond to his words. Although, I have to start teaching him a word or two of baby babble- he just doesn't get it. I was told during my baby classes that all parents came bilingual these days. Maybe he's an older model. He's a little slow on the uptake, if you know what I mean. It's going to be an extra long childhood for me it would seem. I've been told I just have to get him to 60 years of age and then I can start sending him to parentcare. I can't wait. I'm just kidding.

Mummy dearest, wish you were here with us to see me growing up. I know it would have made papa the happiest man on earth. See you in my dreams tonight mummy.

Day 75 (Mon 19th June 2006): Papa misses mummy very much. Too much. He wishes she was here for me too. Especially during the day when he is at work. He feels guilty for the separation that I have to endure. He says that mummy would have made my days richer. She would have surrounded me with a rich tapestry of love and affection. She had prepared a coronation worthy of the most exalted king. She had so much planned. Papa says that in typical fashion, mummy's preparations for my arrival had been thoughtful and meticulously executed. One of the things she had bought plenty of, were "breast pads". She eagerly anticipated the day she could offer me the most intimate act of love only a mother could offer her child. Those same pads now sit in their stiff unopened boxes. They look so out of place and serve only to heighten papa's sense of loss. Papa has since donated them to someone who needs it more.

He says that mummy had been fastiduous in her packing and arranging of my things, just as she had always been with everything else in her life. All my clothes had been neatly stacked in the drawers. Baby things I would need later had already been arranged in a certain order of priority. According to papa, mummy was an excellent packer. Much better than he will ever be. Papa says that it was probably because of her superior mathematical brain. It allowed her to see patterns that papa couldn't. It was also why she was such a brilliant musician. Papa muses that she was always the one breaking the time-records for 'mine sweeper', a game of calculation that she used to love. Mummy used to do all the packing for their holidays too. She could pack so well. It always amazed papa how much she could stuff into one bag without wasting any space. She was so good at it that she could routinely pack wine bottles into the luggage on homeward journeys and have them safely arrive. She prided herself on the fact that out of the numerous trips they had made, not one bottle had been broken. Papa admits he was a quiet but ardent admirer of her superior packing and planning abilities.

Papa says that missing mummy is so hard to do. Her absence screams loudly in his ears every second of the day. He misses the warmth of her love and the silent, reassuring inner strength that she effused. Most of all, he misses the spontaneous coupling of emotional and physical intimacy that would entwine them each day. Their marriage had been enjoying a period of sunshine up till then, and papa looked forward to this evolution as a couple, like a plant to water. That is what makes the current isolation so hard to bare with. Even though he is surrounded by so many loving people, papa says that his sense of lonliness remains unsurpassed. Mummy dearest, don't go too far ahead of us, will you? We don't want to lose you mummy.

"The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave
To the dark and the endless skies, my love

And the first time ever I kissed your mouth
I felt the earth move through my hand
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love...

And the first time ever I lay with you
I felt your heart so close to mine...
The first time ever I saw your face..."
- E. MacColl

Day 74 (Sun 18th June 2006): It was Father's day today. My cousins Timothy and Andrew, gave papa his first ever Father's Day present! Papa said that there were many close friends that had sent him messages today. Some even gifts. All congratulating him on his first Father's Day. He is very grateful to have been surrounded by so many considerate friends today.

My dearest Evan,

I’ve been a coward. Your Papa has asked for a while that all of us friends pen down some thoughts of your mummy, and I have really dragged my feet about this, and indeed would not have without his urging. It’s not that I don’t have a wealth of beautiful things to tell you about Mummy, but it’s more that thinking about everything she was to me and to us in my family is really painful and I really didn’t feel up to bringing up all that pain.

But, yesterday, Papa needed some pictures from my albums and so I had to sift through almost 20 years of memories and Mummy’s always smiling, always twinkling eyes shone through in so many of them, through all the years! My earliest memory of your mummy was in secondary school, when she was one of the popular, athletic basketball and track and field girls. She was one of the ‘in’ girls that everyone so admired as not only was she athletic but she was also really smart and doing so well in school. You could always find her at recess time and after school hanging out with her group of friends at the basketball court shooting hoops! She was always in her element there.

Mummy and I really got to know each other in church. She was so very giving in her musical talents and could always be found at church rehearsing for something or other! I sang soprano and so always sat right in front, usually just in front of your mummy and so was always so fearful that she would pick up on all my wrong notes with her especially sharp ears. And you know, she did, and would always cast me a knowing look! I was never as into music as your mummy, indeed I was definitely not as talented to begin with, but your mummy was always patient, always willing to teach and help, even if it meant playing the same bars over and over again. In sports too, I was not as athletic as mummy, only coming into my own with swimming and running much later on in life.

Somehow though, Mummy and I found a way to bond. We had little in common and yet she shared so many facets of my life. Looking back, the way we bonded was by sharing ourselves and our thoughts. We talked and talked about girly stuff, about friends, about relationships, about family, the future, in short, our lives. We spent hours on the phone, sometimes even when Mummy was in the office! I remember so clearly Evan, the time when your Papa came into Mummy’s life. She had been feeling a little empty and lonely for a while even though she kept herself very busy and was not one to sit around and wait for things to happen, and then suddenly, she was excited; she was exhilarated, she was happy!!! She had started on a diving course and had made friends with a bunch of diving enthusiasts and your Papa was one of them. Mummy was sparkling and glowing – much like she was when you were in her tummy! We spent a lot of time talking about Papa. As I was already married by then to Uncle Terence, through Mummy I got to experience again falling in love, which one day, your Papa will tell you all about, I’m sure. Mummy would tell me about what they did together, what they said and finally after about a month, I got to meet your Papa when she brought him over to our house! And Mummy was so proud and happy! Your Mummy knew right from the start that your Papa was the man for her. And her happiness first culminated on 1 January 1997 when Papa and Mummy got married, and again, when Mummy found out that you were in her tummy!

Your Mummy was so many things to all of us in my family. She was Ben’s Godma, and by virtue of that Brendan and Beth’s as well. She was Beth’s beloved piano teacher, who made piano time so much fun! She was my wonderful friend whom I could confide in and know that I would always get good, sound advice from. She was our choir conductor in church, someone who would always be first up to help when we wanted to do some major performance in church. She was someone Uncle Terence could tease about anything. She was Ben, Brendan and Beth’s play mate especially when they were young.

She was so many, many things to us all, but she was above all that, a loving, warm presence in our home and lives. In recent years, your Mummy would come and spend Tuesday mornings with Beth and I, and those are the times I hold on to. I still see her walking in my home, with her very big tummy which was you, her laughter filling the spaces for you know Evan, Mummy laughed especially loudly and smiled especially widely when you were in her tummy!

My photo albums are full of memories of love and lives shared and one day Evan, I would love to be able to share them with you. You will see pictures of your Papa and Mummy, us uncles and aunties looking very fresh and young, of Ben, Brendan, Beth, Andrea, Andrew, Alex and Ari, looking much like you do now. But most of all Evan, you will see the love that we felt towards each other, the community that we created together, a community that you are now very much a member of.

Writing this letter has taken a lot out of me and makes me remember and feel so painfully how much I have lost!

Love always,
Aunty Marjorie

What is love
If all we grasp of you is in the misty morning air
What is love
If all we can see of you flows through dreamy empty stares
What is love
If the scent of your clothing is all that remains of the perfume on your skin
What is love
If your familiar voice can only be heard in the rustling of the wind

What is love
If the warmth of your body isn't there to hold
What is love
If we are left grieving so lonesome and cold
What is love
If we can only mourn of the future left untold
What is love
If together we will never enjoy our growing old

What is love
If I can't tend to you with all my affection and loving care
What is love
If your wisdom and charm are no longer for us to share
What is love
When our vulnerable newborn is left half alone
What is love
When you lie weeping behind a slab of stone

What is love really,
A blessing for the giving,
Or a curse to afflict the living?

-ColinO.sg

Day 71 (Thu 15th June 2006): I spent the day with my papa! We went to Sentosa Island today. Together with my Godma Elena and my cousins Timmy and Andrew. We went to Underwater World, sat in the rotating C. Tower, rode in the cable car and watched the pink dolphin show. Boy was I pooped at the end of the day. Underwater World was very exciting. But I thought that it was rather limited in range. They should expand it. The ride on the rotating C. Tower was interesting. We could see the whole island when we reached the top. The cable car ride was way too slow. I even had my nappies changed in mid-air! But I also cried alot up there. It was too hot. Papa says that they should air-condition the cabins. The pink dolphin show was disappointing. The dolphins were too far away and I could hardly see them. Papa says he didn't understand a word that was being said either. The girl with the microphone spoke too fast and didn't speak English very well. They should have chosen someone else to host the show. Even so, it was still an enjoyable but tiring day out with my cousins and papa.

"Hello, how are you
Have you been alright, through all those lonely nights,
That's what I'd say, I'd tell you everything,
If you'd pick up that telephone.

Hey, how you feeling, Are you still the same
Don't you realize the things we did were all for real not a dream,
I just can't believe, They've all faded out of view.
I look into the sky, And I wonder why

Telephone line, give me some time, I'm living in twilight

O.K. so no one's answering,
Well can't you just let it ring a little longer
I'll just sit tight, through the shadows of the night
Let it ring for ever more..."
-Jeff Lynne

Day 70 (Wed 14th June 2006): My cousins! Not all of them got to take a photo with me, but that's ok. We will have many more chances I am sure.

Papa says that I have been doing ok so far. He says I sleep very soundly at night, even though I am woken up every three hours for my feeds. I am an angel right up until the late morning, and then apparently, its all downhill from there. Papa says that I am fretty and my moods are unpredictable in the afternoons. The still of the early evenings are often broken by the sounds of my wailing, papa laments. I try but I can't help it. I want to sleep, but then again I don't. I want to feed, but then again I don't. You go figure!

My dear Evan

It’s been hard to start writing to you about your mummy. When I started to think about what to write, I was overcome with tears. I could not understand why I was crying. Perhaps it was because I was watching this very beautiful clip: http://www.mayyoubeblessedmovie.com. Whatever the reason, it was a good release for me and I can only think that it was God’s hand working in mysterious ways.

Where do I begin? Your mummy first entered my life when I came to your grandma Dot for piano lessons. All I remember of her was that she was a really small kid. When we were young, age difference counted a lot! Despite this rather large age difference, when we were all grown up, we hit it off like lamb and mint sauce.

I remember the times we went on holiday together – too few really. I had a wonderful time with your mummy and Uncle Nick when we visited Fr Keane in Ireland. It was one of the best holidays I had ever had. It was a driving holiday and we had a few good bright sunny days in the emerald isle, singing as we drove along “It’s a long way to Tipperary” and “On top of the world” when Uncle Nick bumped his head against the roof of the car as we drove too fast over a hump!

Your mummy always had such a wonderful youthful look that she never lost. I remember when we were holidaying in Penang, one of the friendly Penangites (?!) thought she was my daughter! She was extremely pleased and I can still remember the impish satisfied look on her face. As for my reaction, I was not pleased!!

She glowed so much when she was pregnant and I could see she was truly happy. I had very intensive quality time with your mummy in her last month of pregnancy. I was not working and she was teaching part-time. We went shopping for baby things, gallivanting all over Orchard Road mainly. We spent much time eating our one dollar treats at Delifrance and Dome. She was hungry ever so often, but in Singapore, you’re never far from food!

I have wonderful memories of our times in church and in the choir, and I will always remember her saying “Altos – you’re flat!” We could never get pass her sharp ears!

On the tennis court, she was quite the athlete, despite the bandaged knee that kept it from popping out!

Evan, your mummy was a dear and wonderful friend, and I miss her very much. And through her, I have made many wonderful friends too. Her influence is far reaching and the mind boggles at how many lives she has touched.

It is hard for you not knowing your mummy at all but I am sure you must know her subconsciously during all those nine months. I remember on the day before you were born, she was sitting on my sofa and saying to you “Come out! Come out!” as she lovingly rubbed her tummy. Keep smiling dear Evan, for there is a lot of love around you.

With much love
Auntie Mamie

13 June 2006

Ashes in the glistening silver urn
Sealed behind whitewashed stone
Remains of life's cruel turn
Now piled coldly all alone
Once nature's potent essences
Embodiment of energy and lust
A life so powerful yet evanescent
Summarised in a pile of humble dust.
-ColinO.sg

"I walk along the city streets you used to walk along with me,
and every step I take reminds me of just how we used to be.
Well, how can I forget you, girl?
When there is always something there to remind me.
always something there to remind me...
...And I can't help recalling how it felt to kiss and hold you tight
Well, how can I forget you, girl?...
...I was born to love her, and I'll never be free.
You'll always be a part of me..."
- Sandy Shaw

A Letter from Papa to Mummy.......

Darling dearest, it's me.
Its been sixty days and sixty nights since
the unimaginable silenced our revelry,
The memory still as fresh as if it was yesterday,
Who would have imagined our parting could be so violent,
We had so much more planned,
More so with our budding new arrival,
Alas, life has seen fit to pervert this dream.
I will miss what we could have been,
The magic laughter and playful banter in between,
Shattered in a blink of an eye
In a desperate gasp for air
One last sigh,
A final beat of the heart,
You left our bundle of care,
Amidst the wailing cries of a husband on bended knees,
Begging for His mercy, to have you spared,
For at least a moment with Evan, so you could see,
The Gift of your struggles and sacrifices laid bare.

Our miracle baby has since grown like a prince,
A feisty warrior battling to make it all worthwhile,
Riding high on a carpet of prayers and peace,
He waves the flag with guts and style.
We both miss you terribly.
The nights are cold and the days are empty,
Time has stood still,
Through cloudy days and restless nights,
A love without a lover,
So much to live for and dream,
A baby without a mother,
So much hope and love torn asunder,

Evan has been deprived of your loving touch,
Something which I try to make up for as best I can,
But I know it is nigh impossible,
To love like a mother would,
To celebrate like only you could,
We are like a clock without one hand,
A piano without its strings,
A family without wings,
Futility mirrored as a silent scream,
Musical notes echo like an empty dream,
The idle piano a stark reminder of your absence,
Eerie reminders of your daily existence
Lie scattered as they were, by your hand,
The music has come to an end.

The weekends are always the hardest,
With no work for distraction,
The hands of time dripping slowly its sand,
Familiar routines are no more,
What do I do with all this time at hand,
The aimlessness piercing to the core,
Tears welling up like a mighty tide,
The pain chasing like a rabid hound,
Stumbling confounded with no where to hide,
Running ragged to a place not to be found,
Howling dread gnawing relentlessly,
The loneliness grating into an open wound,
Emptiness feeding on the hopelessness and inhumanity.

I felt your presence the other day,
Thank you for being there on Pentecost,
There was nothing I could say,
Words were all but lost,
Wrapping your arms around my ruptured heart,
Assuaging the hurt and the hidden fears,
Washing my soul in crimson tears,
The passion of Pentecost was strange and profound,
Although the meaning left unclear, at least for now,
It struck me with an overwhelming and lingering resound,
Was it God's love that I felt, was it His healing touch?
So many questions, yet answers are what I seek
Faith and belief are what I yearn for so much,
To inherit the earth like the humble and the meek.

Till our next encounter, where ever that may be,
The chance to clasp your slender supple fingers once again,
Perhaps in a dream when I am set free,
Or in a fantasy driven by insanity,
Perhaps in Heaven if it could exist,
Where we will once again find our rapture and bliss,
Hopefully this time,
It will be a marriage that not even time can resist.

Trinity Sunday, 11th June 2006

To my dearest Godson Evan,

It has taken me a long while to put my thoughts to paper. There is just so much to say about your dear mummy that I just didn’t know where to start. Your mummy’s friendship with me goes back many, many years. She was my ‘oldest’ friend, my dearest friend, my music friend, and most of all my BEST FRIEND. I got to know her when I was about 2 years old. I used to go over to her house for play-dates when I was little, and when I was 5, started piano lessons with my Godma (your grandmother). Even though we never attended the same school, we still got to see each other every week.

Even though we were different in some ways (your mummy was such a sportswoman- I wasn’t! Your mummy was a great mathematician- I wasn’t. I failed my Math in Primary 2), we got on fantastically with each other. I think our love and passion for music was what we held very close to our hearts. Looking back, I have Aunty Germaine to thank as she was instrumental in introducing me to the Catholic faith. It was through Aunty Germaine that I started attending catechism at St Ignatius church, where I was baptized in 1983. After returning from England in 1991, your mummy asked me to join her choir as a pianist. This partnership of glorious music making in praise of God was to last just 14 years. Your mummy was a talented pianist, violinist, singer and well-respected conductor. She had such a natural flair for conducting and was a joy to work with. She had respect for every single member of the choir and was extremely patient in teaching those who had difficulty learning their notes. Your mummy even went to the extent of recording her singing on DVDs so that the choir could learn the correct parts. These are the CDs of her singing that your daddy has been playing to you and which you enjoy listening to. Evan, since your mummy left us, I just haven’t had the strength to return to making music in church again. We had a special ‘chemistry’ and we just knew what each of us wanted out of the music and of each other. It saddens me to think that I will no longer be able to share this special relationship with her, but at the same time, am certain that she is filling the heavens with her beautiful music.

Your mummy and I became even closer over the last 15 years , and we spent much time together. She was the first friend I would call if ever I had anything to share or if I had anything bothering me. I even called her to help me solve Andrea’s math problems!! Some days, I still pick up the phone wanting to talk to her !!

Your mummy was so special. She was the only friend my parents allowed me to go on holiday with when I was younger. Your mummy, daddy, Uncle YP and I have also spent many holidays together. We loved shopping and eating in Bangkok most of all. It was funny as we often ended up liking the same things whenever we went shopping. We had so many similar pieces of clothing that it was amazing we did not end up wearing an identical outfit on the same occasion.

I can’t tell you the joy and happiness I felt when your mummy told me over the phone whilst we were in Cleveland that she was pregnant. This was what she had been looking forward to for so many years. In fact, the news about your mummy’s pregnancy came a month after your mummy and daddy had visited Uncle YP, Andrea, Andrew, Alex, Ariana and I in the US. We were literally jumping for joy!! I felt privileged when your mummy asked me to be Godma of her baby, but at the same time was disappointed that I may not be back in Singapore to attend the baptism. You know what? She told me not to worry.

By God’s grace, our family returned to Singapore much sooner than we had expected as Uncle YP’s boss wanted him back at work here. I was initially disappointed that we had to leave the US so soon, but at the same time was excited to see your mummy in her glowing state. She was beautiful when she met us at the airport. Can you believe she got up at 5.30am just to meet us there? I am thankful that we got to spend some time together catching up and celebrating her 40th birthday. I wouldn’t know what I would have done or how I would have coped if I had remained on in the US.

Evan, I miss your mummy soooooooooo much. I only wish that she could be here to hold you, cuddle you, love you and teach you to be as good a musician as she was. I know I have an immense responsibility to fulfill as your Godma, and I will do my best to be the Godma that your mummy wanted me to be.

I am sure your mummy will be guiding us in every step we take, and will see us through any hurdles we may have to cross. I know, because that was the way I have always known her to be. Trust her.
I love you, Cici.

With Much love from your Godma,
Audrey