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.

Day 238 (Wednesday 29th November 2006): My fever has yet to break. I have been having a lung infection, which is causing me to have a thick runny nose and a watery chest. My fever hovers just below the 38 deg C mark. I am currently being forced to drink a cocktail of four medicines- for the fever, phlegm, runny nose and cough. I hate them. I put up a struggle and cry a lot, I have even tried giving papa that pathetic look in the hope that he will save me whenever he looks on. But alas, I am too weak for now. Wait 'till I get bigger and am able to run. Fortunately, I have learned how to blow, and when I can muster the breath, I send the medicine bubbling out between my pursed lips to thwart the enemy. I think that they have been trying to trick me lately- 'cos I have a sneaky suspicion they have resorted to contaminating my milk supplies. I will have to watch them very carefully. I have been trying to convince them that I don't need the medicines anymore by acting as normally as I can- I have tried to eat normally and show them that I have a healthy appetite and even play like my normal self. I think that if I can keep this up for another day or two, I might just convince them that I am not sick. The only silver lining in the cloud, is that I get to skip my physiotherapy session tomorrow! Let's hope my fever breaks and my chest clears up soon though. I am getting bored of staying at home. Pray for me mummy.

When the rose is gone and the garden faded
you will no longer hear the nightingale's song.
The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil.
The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.
If love withholds its strengthening care,
the lover is left like a bird without care,
the lover is left like a bird without wings.
How will I be awake and aware
if the light of the Beloved is absent?
Love wills that this Word be brought forth.
-Rumi

Day 236 (Monday 27th November 2006): I have succumbed to another bug over the last two days. This time around it is giving me a cough and a fever. My fever had spiked to a high of 38degC this afternoon. I am back on some anti-fever medication again. I soldier on like I have been for these last seven months, riding upon all the prayers from Heaven and shielded by the love that surrounds me.
Mummy's friend Aunty Sharon has just returned to Singapore from the USA with my Bumbo chair and her husband in tow. Thank you very much Aunty Sharon for the kind present! Mummy and Aunty Sharon go back a long way. They used to sing in the same choir together when they were still in school. She now lives and works in the USA. As for me, it looks like my mumbo-Bumbo days have just started.

Because I cannot sleep
I make music at night.
I am troubled by the one
whose face has the color of spring flowers.
I have neither sleep nor patience,
neither a god reputation nor disgrace.
A thousand robes of wisdom are gone.
All my good manners have moved a thousand miles away.
The heart and the mind are left angry with each other.
The stars and the moon are envious of each other.
Because of this alienation the physical universe
is getting tighter and tighter.
The moon says, "How long will I remain
suspended without a sun?"
Without Love's jewel inside of me,
let the bazaar of my existence be destroyed stone by stone.
O Love, You who have been called by a thousand names,
You who know how to pour the wine
into the chalice of the body,
You who give culture to a thousand cultures,
You who are faceless but have a thousand faces,
O Love, You who shape the faces
of Turks, Europeans, and Zanzibaris,
give me a glass from Your bottle,
or a handful of bheng from Your Branch.
Remove the cork once more.
Then we'll see a thousand chiefs prostrate themselves,
and a circle of ecstatic troubadours will play.
Then the addict will be breed of craving.
and will be resurrected,
and stand in awe till Judgement Day.

-Rumi

Day 234 (Saturday 25th November 2006): Papa took time off from work for three days this week, so that he could spend more time with me. He took me swimming on Tuesday. And what a great afternoon for swimming it turned out to be. Papa says mummy was looking out for us. The weather was just nice- the lingering warmth of the afternoon sun colliding with the cloudiness of an impending rainstorm. Like a good wine papa said- a tantalizing start with a good finish. The start of the swim is often when I need the most reassurance. I am only scared of the coldness initially, but after that I am like a fish in open water. Or rather a fish out of water. As I haven't yet learned to swim, most of my time is spent half submerged and splashing my energetic arms around.

On Wednesday, we had an appointment with a new physiotherapist, Laura. She is the second physiotherapist that I will be seeing besides the one at Mount Alvernia Hospital. Papa hopes that she will help strengthen the team of people already helping me out. She is very professional and thoughtful in her work. She said that there was much of my development that she assessed as being 'age-appropriate'. So that was very encouraging. My biggest problem at the moment seems to be my muscular control and co-ordination. That was still lagging behind somewhat and would be the focus of her attention for the time being. Laura felt that I needed to become physically stronger than most other kids in order to help me overcome my muscular control issues. Papa feels that it will develop in good time. She introduced some new exercise routines for me to practice with at home. She says that I needed more floor time on the mat as well as be exposed to positions and postures that would stimulate my sense of spatial awareness and allow me to build up my muscle strength. Laura thinks that I am a very spirited and inquisitive young man. She called me a gung-ho 'kay-poh' (which means 'busy-body' translated from the Hokkien dialect).

Papa has been feeling very tired lately. I sense that he may be feeling a little overwhelmed by all the work he has to do for me. I guess he is very concerned that I be given the best possible chance of recovering from the disadvantaged start to life. Doing the worrying and thinking for two parents is starting to wear him down a little. Every time my development is delayed, he worries if it is due to damage I suffered from the birth. Or is it just me taking my sweet time? If it is damage, how bad is it? Will I be able to reverse the effects of the damage? Is he doing enough to help me recover? He also worries that I should be given a good environment in which to do my exercises at home. Which is not easy given that I am only in my temporary home. He worries that there is insufficient supervision of my daily exercise routines- is it done in the proper manner, is it done enough? He also worries that I am not exposed to sufficient parent-bonding time whenever he is working. He is concerned that I am not getting enough quality attention at home. And the list goes on incessantly, like the ticker tape buzzing on a busy day at the stock exchange he says.

He knows that he has to take one step at a time, and he hopes that things will eventually fall into place. He does also realise that he needs to reserve some time for himself, but he says that worrying for me is a full-time addiction which he can't seem to stop. Perhaps that's why he has so many more silvery hairs on his head today. It's moments like these that he really misses mummy. It's like playing the piano with one hand. The missing is so hard to do. Harder than caring for me he says. Not even sleep can steal the pain. Perhaps that's why he hasn't been sleeping very much lately.

Clavichord

Touch me once more, until these separate strands
begin to stir. My inarticulate keys
quicken beneath your soft, attentive hands,

my strings, responsive to your least commands,
give back strange overtones and harmonies.
Touch me once more. Until these separate strands

comply, and nothing hurried countermands
the way in which such gradual urgencies
quicken beneath your soft, attentive hands,

there can be no release—nor sarabandes
of meaning—in these plangent melodies.
Touch me once more, until these separate strands

commingle, and a newfound world expands
between us in this little room. Let seas
quicken beneath your soft, attentive hands,

let continents appear: who understands
this music loosens vast geographies.
Touch me once more, until these separate strands
quicken beneath your soft, attentive hands.

-Jared Carter, from Les Barricades Mystérieuses

Day 228 (Sunday 19th November 2006): My fever has broken as of early this morning. Everyone at home is relieved. We had lunch with my grandparents Dot and Ben this afternoon. They had some of their long-time friends over for lunch. My cousins Hanna, Lea and Noah were there to keep me company too.
Papa says that I am starting to show signs that I may be able to crawl soon. I can lift my backside up so that my legs can push forwards. The only problem is my sense of balance. I keep tipping over when I try to move forwards. I think rolling is a lot easier for the moment. I have also been practicing my sitting posture. I can at least support myself in the 'tripod' position with my arms as I lean forwards. It's a start for now. I am confident that I will be able to do it eventually. That should be a great relief for papa. Meanwhile, back to the gym for me.

Day 226 (Friday 17th November 2006): I came down with a high fever on Friday afternoon. The ear thingy said 39 degrees C. according to papa. I have been drinking some medicine for the fever. It has since come down to a milder 37.5 degrees C. I am not coughing or sneezing, so we are just waiting to see what kind of bug it will be.

Day 225 (Thursday 16th November 2006) : I had my physiotherapy session today at the Mount Alvernia Hospital. It was a good session for me- I was co-operative and for the first time, managed not to cry! Papa was pleased with my behavior today. He hopes that I will start to find these 'gym' sessions fun at the same time that it helps me strengthen my muscles. Papa spent the entire day with me today. It was one of those father-son bonding sessions that he so enjoys. I am happy when I see him and always try to greet him with my most charming of smiles. It always melts his heart and takes his worries away for those precious few moments.

I hope that he can spend more time with me. Papa says that work isn't that important to him anymore. Although he does enjoy his work very much- he finds great satisfaction from it because he says he makes people smile everyday. But things can never be the same again. Priorities have undergone a seismic change. He will still work to keep his sanity, give himself a sense of fulfillment and to keep paying for my diapers and milk. I think he feels that he needs to make up for mummy's loss. So he has to be twice the parent, giving three times the time and smothering me with five times the love. I hope that I can repay him by being strong and making him proud, a hundred times over. Although I do know that his love for me is unconditional. Like with mummy, he believes the most fulfilling love is one that is freely returned.

Dearest mummy, many people miss you very much. Heaven's email inbox must be full of protests and prayers for you. Most of them from papa. I fear he will never get over your sudden loss. He had so much love for you. So much more to give. It is like a dam across the heart, the body cannot go on. I pray that you will visit him each night and let him know that you can still feel his love as intensely as when you were together in the flesh. Wait for him mummy.

Dreamscapes....Both Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung identify dreams as an interaction between the unconscious and the conscious. Dreams are seen as being projections of parts of oneself. Often these are parts that have been ignored, rejected or even suppressed. Or are they? The mysterious and often bizarre nature of dreams has led many to interpret dreams as divine gifts or messages, as predictions of the future, or as messages from the past.

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"I had a dream at long last of Ci, during the early morning hours of 1 June. I was at an outdoor party (looked like a barbeque..but it was in a cold country), sitting on a bench with my kids. Cici suddenly appeared and sat between Andrea and myself, somewhat invisible to the rest, but looking every bit herself, although she had long hair (like what she had 7-8 years ago), and was wearing a navy blue t-shirt. She said to me, "Come, I want to talk to you.."..I took her hand and walked away with her. It came as no surprise that I spoke more than she did.. asking her why she left us, telling her how much I missed her, etc.. all she kept saying was,"I am fine.. really I am ok.. I am really ok".. I then proceeded to ask her what heaven was like, and she said it was "nice".. again saying, "I'm ok", smiling. I wanted to know who she had met there.. .and was racking my brains to think of people whom she may have met.. all that came to mind was "Por por".... Anyway... my dream ended abruptly as the phone rang at 5.30am!!!! I so wished for the dream to continue...

However, I must say that having had a dream of Cici telling me that she's fine, and having seen her smiling face has led me to feel more reassured and at peace. I woke up feeling content that she was happy and at peace with herself and that she had given me the chance to dream about her, my best friend.. That's about all I can remember! And I still feel reassured that she's really fine. "
-AudreyR (June 2006)

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"Wanted to share with you this dream I had last night. I was in the music room at St Igs with some of our old 10:45am mass choir mates. I think Audrey and Angela were there. And Frances was there too. She was expressing concern in her usual caring way about my knee. ( I actually have been nursing a strained knee joint this past week so I guess that's reality colliding with the subconscious mind). She was urging me to see a doctor about it and recommended someone.
The odd thing was that in the dream, we all knew that she had gone to heaven and were somewhat surprised to see her. Not shocked or scared. Just a little surprised. And I actually said "Fudge, what are you doing here? Aren't you... " To which she replied, "Aiya, I'm always around when I'm needed lah."
I woke up with a deep sense of loss yet at the same time, I felt oddly comforted."
-AngelinaF (June 2006)

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"She was dressed in a beautiful white high-necked lace dress and looking radiant. We hugged each other and held each other. All the things that had not been said, the deep sadness I felt at not seeing her before her sudden departure, this terrible sense of loss.

But in that dream, there were no words. There was no need for words. I felt her love and that she was at peace."
- AngelaS (July 2006)

-------------------------------
As many would agree, Frances was an excellent and most patient voice teacher and although I'd only had lessons with her for 5 months, I was rather inspired by her and other than a common love for singing, I found out she had also done corporate banking for some time so she was able to relate to what I had to tell her about my career path (I'm currently in corporate banking but realise that finance isn't really my choice career).

The first 2 months after Frances had left us, I was very much saddened and wondered often as to how she would be in heaven for I know that it is there that we have eternal happiness. Well, what I wanted to let you know was that I had a dream about three months back. It was a nice and comforting dream to say the least. I'm pretty certain it was a confirmation to what I'd been thinking all this while. In my dream, I was sitting on a sofa atop a tall building in the midst of clouds and whilst i was seated, Frances appeared and came to sit opposite me. Her face was radiant and she had a large beam on her face. I remember clearly her smile and I was so excited to see her and asked her how she was. She replied in a way to tell us not to worry and to say that although she was no longer on earth, she was very much alive with our Father in Heaven. That was the crux of the dream and which has stayed with me til today (I've written it down in a journal too). I hope this doesn't sound too strange to you to hear this from me but I thought that I'd like to share it with you. We all miss her but somehow we do know that she is together with choirs of angels watching us from above and will always be present in our hearts.
-ElizabethN (November 2006)

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Psychologist Joe Griffin, one of the founders of human givens psychology, has put forward an explanation for why humans dream: The expectation fulfillment theory of dreaming. He reviewed all the available scientific evidence and conducted a 12 year program of research that showed that all dreams are expressed in the form of sensory metaphors. Interviewed by New Scientist he explained how his findings "show that ordinarily dream sleep does a great housekeeping job for us. Each night it brings down our autonomic arousal level. Dreams are metaphorical translations of those waking introspections – emotionally arousing feelings and thoughts – that we don’t act upon while we are awake. Once aroused, our brain has to complete that cycle of arousal and, if we don’t complete it in the external world, we do so in our dream sleep. The patterns of arousal are metaphorically acted out and thereby deactivated.

"Letting off steam" usually dissipates anger, but if animals were to act out their emotions instantly every time they were emotionally aroused, that would be disastrous. So animals needed to evolve the ability to inhibit arousals when necessary and deactivate them later when they could do no harm. Griffin hypothesized that that is why animals evolved to dream. During REM sleep, unfulfilled emotional expectations left over from the day are run out in the form of metaphors, thus deactivating them and freeing up the brain to deal with the new emotionally arousing events of the following day. Without dreams fulfilling animals' expectations by acting them out metaphorically, and thereby quelling the autonomic nervous system, animals would need a vastly bigger brain.
-New Scientist.

Berceuse

Step down into that darkness now, that dream
of drifting unremembrance and release,
where words and music form an endless stream

of syllables that swirl away and gleam
upon the flow, then vanish without cease.
Step down into that darkness: now that dream—

that fragment wave which in one moment seems
to break—returns, and on the next increase,
where words and music form an endless stream,

floods all resistance, all that would deem
mere waking marvelous, or knowledge peace.
Step down: into that darkness now, that dream,

descend, not to renounce but to redeem
the surface world. Within the water's lease,
where words and music form an endless stream,

letters appear in lines that have no theme
or purpose, yet their passing brings surcease.
Step down into that darkness now, that dream
where words and music form an endless stream.

-Jared Carter, from Les Barricades Mystérieuses.

Day 222 (Monday 13th November 2006): I got to sit in a high-chair for the first time today! Although I did need the support of some pillows. Papa said that was cheating, but that at least I got to feel what it was like to sit at the table eating with everyone else. My buddy Joshua was so happy for me. He took care of me and made sure I didn't hurt myself. Papa says this should be good training for my eating habits as well as strengthening for my back muscles. I managed to sit in the chair for a good half an hour and got up only after the rest had finished their dinner. I could tell papa was happy with my performance.

Papa says that he will be starting me on physiotherapy twice a week starting soon, with two different physiotherapists. He will consider a suggestion sent in by 'ummi-to-D' to look into something called Advanced Biomechanical Rehabilitation (ABR) (click link). Papa says he may consider this should physiotherapy fail or if things take a turn for the worse for me in the coming months. My grandpa Larry recently gave me an exercise ball for me to do my exercises like the way I do it at the physiotherapist. Thanks grandpa. I am supposed to sit and lie on it for a series of exercises to strengthen my back and trunk muscles. It is hard work. But I have promised papa to work hard on my sitting-up abilities. I sometimes wonder if mummy had been here, whether all this hard work would have been easier to do. I can tell papa would like to be there for me in the day, but I do understand he has to work as well. He has not been sleeping well lately. Mummy, help me grow strong in your spirit so that I may continue to surprise all my loved ones with good news. Goodnight mummy.

forgotten post....

Today was another tough day, we had to interr the remains of Frances at St Mary's Columbarium. Frances' niche is located at the St Collette section, niche number 3234. Fr O'Neil was kind enough to officiate the simple service of interrment. It was a very heart rending experience.

Day 218 (Thursday 9th November 2006): Papa says that he had the wind knocked out of his sails on Thursday. That was the day we went to visit Dr Phua. He's one of the doctors looking over me. The problem was with my 'gross motor skills'. I presumed he was referring to my inability to sit up by myself. Although he did also mention something about the tone of my muscles needing to be strengthened. What ever it was, papa looked a little worried after the visit- the stress lines on his forehead gave him away. He looked a little demoralised and sad for the rest of the day. Dr Phua had said that my physical development was a little delayed and that meant that I needed more consistent physical stimulation. Papa has started me on more frequent daily exercise sessions at home. He says I will also need to increase the visits to the physiotherapist at Mount Alvernia Hospital. He is also looking out for other therapists who may be able to help me better. I can already feel my body aching from all his planning *sigh*. But I have promised him that I will work harder and keep on fighting. I pray that mummy will give me the strength and good fortune that I need to help me along this rocky road.

An old friend of my mummy who lives in the USA has written to papa to say that she will be buying the 'Bumbo' chair for me. Thanks to Aunty Sharon! She is coming back to Singapore for a holiday at the end of this month. The chair is the one introduced to papa by a very kind person in the USA- Alisha. The chair is supposed to help me strengthen my back muscles and train me to sit up by myself. Thank you Alisha too! Papa is only concerned that I will be squirming out of it more than sitting in it. You will all get to hear more about my exploits on the Bumbo soon!

I got to meet mummy's cousin from Perth on Wednesday. Aunty May and her husband Uncle Tao were here on a working holiday. They are both doctors and Uncle Tao was attending a conference here in Singapore. They are both very warm and personable people. Papa last met them on his holiday to Perth with mummy four to five years ago. Papa said that it brought back happy memories with mummy. It was one of their most enjoyable holidays to Australia. They had made the trip with Uncle Kek and Aunty Ai Chun. The highlight of their holiday was the week they had spent along the Margaret River. They drank themselves silly with wine. Added together with the tree climbing, cave adventures and whale gawking, they came home in very high spirits indeed. I want to wish Aunty May and Uncle Tao a safe trip home. I am hoping to meet my cousins there one day soon.

We celebrated a long train of birthdays for the following people over the past couple of weeks: Aunty Sunita, Uncle Terrence Teo, Father Keane, Uncle Chris, Emma, Uncle Adrian Chong, Aunty Ai Chun, Andrew Lim, Christian and cousins Michael and Joe in Australia! *gasp* Last and most of all, my Grandpa Larry celebrated his birthday last week. May they all live healthy and contented lives.

Mummy, time seems to make your absence louder. No less than when we prayed and cried for you during All Souls Day last week. We all miss you plenty. I wish you were here to help papa fight for me. He could do with the help sometimes. It is an exhausting journey and he misses the times he had your shoulder to lean on and the intimacy of your company to cry with. Please touch him with your radiance and help bring peace to his soul. Love you lots mummy.

Angel laughing.......

Angels laughing with Evan....

Unable to fathom this senseless loss,
I reel in its infinite wake
Tears no longer able to console this desolate heart
I yearn for release into the abyss of the unknown
so that I may confront eternity
in a futile bid to reunite my divided soul.

-CO.sg