Day 116 (Sun, 30th July 2006):
Letter to Evan from Papa.......

Dearest Evan,
I first met mummy at a post scuba-diving party that our good friends Uncle Ken and Aunty Cynthia had organised. She was with a group of her girlfriends who had been nicknamed "the Aunties". I could only presume that it was because of the loud gaffawing and chattering that went on whenever they got together. They were truly unique and unmistakable in their volume and incessant laughter. Strangely enough, to many general acquaintences, mummy was by nature a reserved and quiet person. She displayed a side of her that few people ever got to see- mischevious and exhuberant- only when in the company of close friends and family. The softer, bubbly and happy-go-lucky persona only surfaced when in the company of those she knew well. Mummy and I got to know each other through years of mutual sporting and social activities. We were fortunate enough to be surrounded by a merry band of friends who shared many similar passions. They were the days of innocence, youth and unbridled energy. Aside from the obligatory partying and meals spent in good cheer together, sporting activites were responsible for cementing the bonds we had developed.

We enjoyed sea sports tremendously. We scuba dived, water skiied and sailed constantly during our more care-free days. Almost every weekend was spent in the open seas. I became very tanned and brown. Unfortunately, mummy didn't tan so well- she only broke out in more freckles. But that never stood in the way of her engaging in outdoor sports. In addition, she had developed a loose knee joint, the price she paid for her more atheletic schooling days. It would require her to have to strap her knee with a splint before any activity. Despite this, she was always a very generous person, game for any sporting challenge put before her. Scuba diving was one of our most enduring passions. It was reflected in our desire to train to an advanced level of diver proficiency as well as in the number of diving holidays we took together. At the beginning, almost all our holidays would be diving escapades. Even as time took its toll on our schedules, we still managed to set aside time enough for at least one diving holiday a year for the most part. We had hoped to share this fervor for the sea with you at some point. That zeal has now been cruelly cut in half.

We also shared the passion for many ball sports. Mainly soccer, tennis, snooker and bowling. Next to sea sports, we enjoyed playing tennis together the most. It was my favorite land sport and she embraced it. She was a good tennis player with a mean forehand for anyone willing to challenge her. Her natural ball-sense was only second to her musical talent. The same couldn't be said for her choice of English Premiership football teams though. Despite our differences in opinion about which team was the best, ours was always a good spirited and light hearted rivalry. I was the odd one out in her family, all of whom supported Manchester United. I was a loyal and lonely Liverpool fan. Needless to say, the framework for many vociferous and contentious sessions watching football together had been set. Weekends would never be the same.

Mummy was also a born athlete. She was a school track and field athlete in her younger days. Her prowess tested and proven by the number of medals that had she won in her school competitions. Her continued love for the sport as she 'outgrew' it, was reflected in her enthusiasm when it came to watching any form of atheletics on television. You would find her glued to the television whenever the Olympics Games or even our humble Asian Games were being broadcast.

There was one sport however, that I did not share the same enthusiasm with her, no matter how hard I tried. That was basketball. Your mum loved the sport. I wished I could have shared her interest for it more. You could tell just by her voice and perky spirits how much passion she had reserved for it. It is a shame she never got a chance to share it with you. Aunties Sheena and Prisca will be the best people to fill you in on her basketball exploits. They were her schoolmates, basketball team mates and 'general-after-school-partners-in-crime' as I have been told. Nothing paid testimony to her love for basketball more than the way she lived it. Your mummy had been banned from playing basketball by her mother, your grandmother, as it was deemed too risky a sport for a promising musician's precious hands and fingers. But mummy continued to play it in secret. This was a courageous and very brave act. For if truth be told, your grandmother is one person whom you did not want to anger. For your mummy to have risked incurring this tempestuous wrath, spoke volumes for her unwavering deep desire and love for the sport.

The other sport which your mummy and I played much together was bowling. She was a lot better at it than me. During her heyday of bowling, she was representing clubs and playing in tournaments. She was winning many prizes at one stage of her bowling 'career'- fridges, electrical appliances and cash started rolling in. So much so that I once quipped that if she continued her winning streak, I could finally afford to retire. She made sure that that bubble was burst very quickly. She bowled as she lived her life- with verve, steely calculations, passion, immense success, unconditional love and great elegance.

As I reflect on our journey together, I have come to realise that the passion and bonds we shared during sports, mirrored much of the other aspects of our life together. Everything we did was met with a twinkle of the eyes between us and a sparkle of adventurism. It was a true hands-on, in-your-face passion for trying anything new, which we shared deeply with each other. There were so many more adventures that we had dreamed about together. She was always game to try new things, and that was one of the many things which I loved most about her and which I miss so dearly. It was a short but rich journey together. No amount of consoling will ever be able to take away the pain of our cherished memories. The future promised so much more. Evan, I miss your mummy very much, and no matter what God may have in store for the both of us in the future, there will always be a large weeping hole in my heart until the day, if and when we are reunited. I can only hope that I will do justice to the life she led, in the way in which I am able to bring you up. It will be a hard act to follow.