Day 270 (Sunday 31st December 2006): Papa has been taking a short Christmas break away from the blog in order to recharge his batteries. The recent earthquake around Taiwan that disrupted the Internet in Asia just meant that the break was extended, a little.

I have since recovered from my bad flu. It was the worst that I have suffered so far. Papa says that there is still a left-over cough, but nothing serious. Papa could tell that I had recovered when, two days ago, I began to smile more again. He had missed that the most.

I have begun to make some progress with my physical development. I have started to do the 'commando' crawl. I still have balancing issues, but at least I can now claw my way to my toys. Failing which I just roll to them. My sitting ability has also improved. I can sit up more steadily now, although I have not yet learned to sit from the prone position by myself. In good time, in good time, I pray.

Papa and I would like to wish one and all a peaceful, contented and joyous new year. We hope that mummy has found the same where ever she may be. Papa misses mummy very much on this their anniversary. May she rest in everlasting peace in the knowledge of his immense love for her, more than words or actions could ever have said. Love you mummy.

The beauty of the heart

is the lasting beauty:

its lips give to drink

of the water of life.
Truly it is the water,

that which pours,

and the one who drinks.

All three become one when

your talisman is shattered.

That oneness you can't know

by reasoning.

-Rumi

Day 261 (Friday 22nd December 2006): I have developed a fever yet again. There are no other symptoms at the moment, but on Thursday evening, papa recorded a temperature of of 39degC. The usual fever medicines were squirted down my throat, which has managed to contain it between the 37.5-38.7degC range so far. In fact the first night, when it did not subside sufficiently, a "suppository" was inserted into my "depository". My first encounter of the 'close' kind. As of today, Friday, the fever has still not subsided. Papa is a little worried naturally. This is the worst bout of fever that I have encountered to-date. Papa says that I must rise to the occasion yet again.


Fortunately, I had some fun before the fever consumed me. I was invited to attend my very first Christmas Gingerbread House party. I was only allowed to observe the other kids making the houses. It looked fun not to mention yummy! It was something about my fingers in my drooling mouth that seemed to make the difference as to how close they let me get to the action.
I can't wait for next years party- hopefully I will be able to hold my own.

Christmas is a sad time for papa. It reminds him of all the times mummy spent rehearsing and performing for the Church choirs and for the Singapore Philharmonic Chorus. It was a passion that made her very happy. Papa could tell, and though it meant less time together, he was always happy that she was in her element and enjoying herself. Christmas also signals the approach of their wedding anniversary. They were married on January the 1st. Papa says he will need the help of much fermented fluids this Christmas to carry him far away from these poignant memories. He dreamt of mummy the other night. It was a short dream. Mummy was in a happy mood, and she held papa's hand so lovingly, as she pulled him along to something that she wanted him to see. There was a feeling of love and assurance. Alas, the dream ended there. Papa thinks that it was his subconscious desire to be reunited with mummy that sparked the dream. I think that it was mummy trying to sooth papa's lonely soul. Mummy dearest, stay close to us and never let us go. We miss you very much.

I am a sculptor, a molder of form.

In every moment I shape an idol.

But then, in front of you, I melt them down

I can rouse a hundred forms

and fill them with spirit,

but when I look into your face,

I want to throw them in the fire.

My souls spills into yours and is blended.

Because my soul has absorbed your fragrance,

I cherish it.

Every drop of blood I spill

informs the earth,

I merge with my Beloved

when I participate in love.

In this house of mud and water,

my heart has fallen to ruins.

Enter this house, my Love, or let me leave.

-Rumi

"I'm forever blowing bubbles..." *choke choke" (Part deux)

"I'm forever blowing bubbles...."

(Warning! Viewer discretion is advised. This clip may contain scenes of graphic salivation and may be unsuitable for viewers with weak stomachs or who are suffering from obsessive compulsive neatness disorders.)

A moment of happiness,

you and I sitting on the verandah,

apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.

We feel the flowing water of life here,

you and I, with the garden's beauty

and the birds singing.

The stars will be watching us,

and we will show them

what it is to be a thin crescent moon.

You and I unselfed, will be together,

indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.

The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar

as we laugh together, you and I.

In one form upon this earth,

and in another form in a timeless sweet land

-Rumi

Day 251 (Tuesday, 12th December 2006): The last weekend was a busy one for me. My recent bout of flu has created havoc with my appointments. I was eager to get out of the house. On Saturday, we were invited over to Aunty Sheena's house for her annual Christmas party. There were plenty of people about. The night ended with everyone joining voices in renditions of familiar Christmas carols. Some of the music seemed strangely familiar to me.

On Sunday, my good friend Lucas turned five. I wonder how it must feel to be so old. I've been told that you might actually get to stop wearing diapers! We had a great time in an indoor playground. The theme was 'Superheroes'. This meant that there were plenty of bouncing bodies in tight colorful clothing, prancing around that afternoon. It was fun to watch.

I have restarted my exercise routines as best as I can manage. It involves spending more time on the mat, as well as more sitting exercises using a new mobile foam 'corner' which my kind physiotherapist Laura has lent me. I must try harder to strengthen my back muscles. I hope that time will be kind to me.

I can think of younger days when living for my life
Was everything a man could want to do.
I could never see tomorrow, but I was never told about the sorrow.

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.

I can still feel the breeze that rustles through the trees
And misty memories of days gone by
We could never see tomorrow, no one said a word about the sorrow.

-How do you mend a broken heart, Bee Gees.

Tribute taken from 'Frances Ng Tribute Choir and Musicians, Journeys of Faith Concert, St Ignatius Church, Concert Program" (2nd December 2006):

" Frances, also known to us as Fudge, Cici, Auntie, in her quiet and unassuming way has touched so many of us- friends as well as family.

In tribute to Frances, some friends of hers have gathered to sing and play a few of her favorite hymns. She gave so much of herself and of her music. In the main concert, they will be singing arrangements of hymns for St Ignatius Loyola specially arranged by Frances.
Before the concert, as their tribute to Frances, they will begin with the psalm, Centre of my Life. To Frances, God has always been the centre of her life and it was not by chance that this is her favorite psalm.

Of the many gifted musicians in the parish of St Ignatius, Frances was one of them. Another is Tom Rozario. On hearing of her untimely demise, Tom composed The Musician's Prayer for Frances's funeral and faxed it from Barcelona where he currently resides.

The choir will end this tribute with the Advent Alleluia. This hymn is written in a classical style which if Frances were here, she'd want to teach the choir. She lives on in us and in her music. Frances, this is for you."

Day 246 (Thursday, 7th December 2006): Today, I finally end my course of antibiotic medicines. I am so relieved it's all over. I put up a whale of a struggle at each feeding time. I hate my meds! It took two, sometimes three people to administer my meds- one to hold me down, one to force it down my throat and another to cheer me on. I tried blowing it back up again, I even tried twisting my face into armpits, hiding my mouth and making lots of ugly noises to scare them away. Alas, I am too puny and weak. I have since developed an acute sense of smell for its sickly sweet odor and can usually detect it coming two rooms away. Pity I have not learned how to run yet. I hope I never fall that ill again.

Papa says that I have started to cut my very first two teeth! They are creeping out from the bottom jaw. I feel strange. It makes my mouth itchy. I can't imagine more of them sprouting up. Papa says that I will soon have a pearly smile rather than a toothless grin. I have also started to explore my feet lately. I have this irresistible urge to suck my toes! It amuses papa plenty but I think it disgusts quite a few others judging by the looks on their faces. There is a warm fuzzy feeling to the smooth sensation of my twinky toes nuzzled between my lips and tongue. It brings me great comfort somehow.

Mummy dearest, there isn't a moment that passes when I am wishing you were here sharing these growing-up moments with papa and me. I often wonder how you would have reacted to the things I do. Would it have been any different to the way in which papa responds I wonder. Papa says that no matter how much he tries, he can't 'mother' me, and that is something that I will have to learn to do without. I will be like a violin playing without one string, a rainbow without one color. Love you mummy.

Yee hah!

It's Mumbo-Bumbo Time!

Evan doesn't mind his new Jumbo chair. He's not crazy about it, but will co-operate most of the time for short periods. He has found a way to squirm and wriggle his way out of it already, so a watchful eye is needed at hand when he gets bored. It is useful in keeping him sitting upright, so I guess it does help to strengthen his back muscles. Another tool to keep him amused.

Day 243 (Monday 4th December 2006): My fever broke over the weekend. I am still taking the medicine for phlegm and the antibiotics though, as the chesty cough is still in the background and the antibiotic course has to be completed. I am so glad that the worst is over for now. Thank you all for your kind prayers.

Papa brought me to attend the Musical concert at the Church of St Ignatius on Saturday evening. There was a beautiful tribute to mummy that night. They sang some of her favorite music. Thank you to all her wonderful friends. May mummy continue to sing in your hearts.

Papa received a poignant letter from Harrow England today. It was from a kind old lady that had taught mummy how to play the piano when she was younger. Her name is Jean Anderson-Hunt. Papa has never met her before. Mummy and Jean must have been very dear to each other. In fact, mummy had written a letter to her just before she passed away, but it had not been posted. Papa had found the letter in her belongings earlier, but there was no address on the envelope to send it to. Now there is. Jean still does not know that mummy has passed on. Papa is struggling to find the right words in his letter to her. He knows it will be shocking for her. It won't be easy for papa. Mummy, may you comfort Jean upon her knowledge of your death. We love you very much.

Last night you left me and slept your own deep sleep. Tonight you turn and turn. I say,

"You and I will be together till the universe dissolves." -Rumi

A Letter for Evan.......

Dearest Evan,
Yesterday morning, I woke up from a dream about you and your mother. I was in a huge cathedral and there was going to be an important wedding. Since everyone was in white, it seemed like a heavenly wedding, and your mother was the bride.
The scene then shifted and your mum was seated on a piano stool, her back to a black grand piano. She was trying to catch the eye of Melly who was carrying you, but Melly was not looking in her direction. So I went up to Melly and picked you up and gave you to your mum.
Your mum was truly very happy playing with you, bouncing you on her knees and she was smiling and laughing - that wonderful smile and laughter that only your mum has. She truly looked very happy.
For me, the dream came at a significant moment because last night, there was a tribute to your mum at St Ignatius Church. We all miss her very much, and I miss her in the very depth of my being.
You see, your mum and I had a funny kind of friendship. I was too young (crazy I mean) to be a mother to her, and too old to be really a friend. So maybe we were like sisters. Your mum would share a few secrets with me and I thank her for trusting me. Without words, we both knew we loved each other very much and could count on each other whenever needed.
So it was with great sadness that your mum left us on my birthday, but at least her spirit didn't leave me without coming to me as I prayed for her at Mt Alvernia hospital. And now, you and I have birthdays on the same day.
Dear Evan, you had a wonderful mother who loved you intensely as she carried you in her tummy. And I am sure that she continues to love you and care for you from heaven. And we all, who loved your mother, will love you as our own.

With hugs and kisses, Auntie Di
3 December 2006

That all my life I have listened to the calls
of mourning doves, have heard them hidden far back
under the eaves, or perched among sycamore branches—
their five still notes sometimes lost in the wind—
and not known how to answer: this I confess,
lying here now, on a summer morning, in a dark room
no less lit by the sound of their soft calling

than by your breathing. And though you might dream
that I lie stretched beside you, I am alone again,
and a child, hearing these same dim voices drifting
high outside my window, explaining to myself how
these are the cries of the newly dead, in the dawn light,
rising toward heaven. Only that, and a child's need
to make up stories on falling asleep, or waking.

And though you might speak, out of that dream, or form
some forbidden word on your lips, my response
would be no more than the music two of them can make—
matching their notes in time, setting up harmonies
that are clear, and pure, and accidental even
to their own reckoning, since all of their singing
is circular, and comes back to the same stillness.

It is back to that place they are calling us now,
and it is out of not knowing that I brush away
strands of hair from your face, and begin to kiss
your eyes, your lips—that I might take sleep
from your mouth into mine, that we might dream invention,
and you hear my confession, and I your answering,
like a song traded back and forth in the morning light.


-Jared Carter, Mourning Doves, from After the Rain.

Day 240 (Friday 1st December 2006): Day four of my flu and I am still stuck at home with a fever. I have read all the magazines there are to be read and I am getting bored. It's no fun being sick in a house full of doctors. To add insult to injury, they have started me on my fifth medication today- antibiotics (Augmentin), in an attempt to clear up the chest infection. I must admit that it has had a beneficial effect. By evening, I have been breathing a little easier, and the nose and chesty fluids are starting to thicken. My fever is down too. I hope that this means my body is finally pushing back the tide of bugs back to where they came from. I can only wish. Meanwhile, I still have the yucky medicines to drink and the painful nose to wipe. I wish they would sell moisturized tissues more readily in Singapore. How about medicines that taste like chocolate ice cream, now that would be cool. Until my next fever update, it's back to bed for me.

Journeys of Faith, celebrating 500 years- A musical tribute to the Jesuit founders presented by the Choirs of St Ignatius. It will include familiar hymns and original compositions to celebrate the Jubilee Year, which we close on 3 December 2006, the Feast of Francis Xavier. It will include a tribute to Frances.

Date: Saturday 2 December 2006
Time: 8pm
Venue: Church of St Igantius
All are welcome
Donations may be made at the concert - proceeds to the Jesuits-in-formation.