My 'vocalisation' as papa calls it, has started to take-off the ground recently. I have started to say two syllable words like 'wa-ter' and to string two words together. Papa is trying hard to get me to say words like 'be-er' and 'par-ty', with a smile of course.

Papa says I have entered a stage of my life that he is looking forward to as much as having his wisdom teeth extracted. If my first year was the age of rashes and jabs, then this year will be marked as the age of bruises and tantrums. The stage papa calls the twilight twos. I threw my first public tantrum the other day when we were at a shopping mall. I didn't get what I wanted, so what did you expect any reasonable normal child to do? I just don't get adults. Give me what I want or don't get in my way, ok? Take that. Papa thinks it was the excessive monosodium glutamate in my chicken rice, plus a little fatigue that gave me the crazies.

I have also started to get plenty of bruises on my face and forehead. The result of an over- exuberant set of legs and a less than enthusiastic giro-system in my head. Papa calls me an almost-guided missile. I have been happily tripping and falling, pushing my god-given skull to it's protective limits. To the point papa wants to permanently sticky a foam covering to my forehead. Bruises are the order of the day. I get at least one a week. Kay sera sera.

Mummy's second anniversary is coming up soon. It will be a bumpy road ahead. Missing you is hard to do mum. Harder than growing up. Wish you were here.

"Our real legacy to the children is not the house, not the bank account, and not even their studies, as our grandparents used to say. Their true treasure on which they are going to sustain themselves (or from which they will have to free themselves) is the message we pass to them every day. It is not in the words chosen for special moments. It is not made up of Christmas nights or birthday parties, or the hour of sermonising or eulogy.

Our duties are to free a space for tenderness in the hurried and difficult, potentially ruthless, day-to-day routine. To leave open the gate to meaningful dialogue, at a set time, but within the habitual flow of concern and warmth. Love in the family is an art, a juggling, sometimes a deed of heroism. Essential like the air we breathe.

Preparing someone to live is not done with phrases, but by living together, preparing him for future relations, in order one day to have a job, a family, a life, and to make him human, tender, generous, strong and ethical." - Lya Luft

As of last week, I have finally graduated from my infant section in morning school to the toddler section with the bigger kids! Yeah! Based largely on the improvements in my walking, the teachers have decided that my independent mobility means I am ready for the bigger league, finally. It's a highly anticipated move, much to the satisfaction of papa. Even though I am still only an "L" plate walker, I already feel like I can fly!

Reflections- Love and the pain of leaving

"Every time we make the decision to love someone, we open ourselves to great suffering, because those we love most cause us not only great joy but also great pain. The greatest pain comes from leaving. When the child leaves home, when the husband or wife leaves for a long period of time, or for good, when the beloved friend departs to another country or dies...the pain of the leaving can tear us apart. Still, if we want to avoid the suffering of leaving, we will never experience the joy of loving. And love is stronger than fear, life stronger than death, hope stronger than despair. We have to trust that the risk of loving is always worth taking.

Many parents have to suffer the death of a child, at birth or at a very young age. There probably is no greater suffering than losing a child, since it so radically interferes with the desire of a father and mother to see their child grow up to be a beautiful, healthy, mature and loving person. The great danger is that the death of a child will take away the parents' desire to live. It requires an enormous act of faith on the part of parents to truly believe that their children, however brief their lives, were given to them as gifts from God, to deepen and enrich their lives.

Whenever parents can make that leap of faith, their children's short lives can become fruitful beyond their expectations." - Henri J M Nouwen

My first injury in play school, or was that fight school papa enrolled me for?

I was viciously attacked in school yesterday. A rabid Rottweiler puppy was disguised as one of the innocent looking boys in my class. What a good disguise it was too. One moment we were playing for the same toy, the next second it reared its true evil self, impaling me with its hideous fangs and feasting on my tender meat. I let out a short whimper which attracted the attention of my teachers, who lunged to my rescue. By which time the creature had retreated into its human disguise. Alas, it was too late, I was already branded by the mark of the Beast, with its poisons coursing through my veins. The animal was placed in quarantine by my teachers and its parents were later alerted to its beastial tendencies. If it was left to me, I would have called the vet in to put the animal out of its misery and do the rest of the class a big favor.

Papa was duly informed soon after, but was still shocked to see the extent of the injury. I was non-plussed and was back to my normal self. No point dwelling on things we can't control papa said to me. He congratulated me on not retaliating and being so brave, but said something about enrolling me in the first available toddler karate class. Lucky for that animal, guns are illegal in Singapore.

Tomorrow Never Comes

If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you fall asleep,
I would tuck you in more tightly, and pray the Lord your soul to keep.
If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you walk out the door,
I would give you a hug and kiss, and call you back for just one more.
If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise,
I would tape each word and action, and play them back throughout my days.
If I knew it would be the last time, I would spare an extra minute or two,
To stop and say "I love you" instead of assuming you know I do.

So just in case tomorrow never comes, and today is all I get,
I'd like to say how much I love you, and I hope we never will forget.
Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old alike,
And today may be the last chance you get to hold your loved one tight.

So if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today?
For if tomorrow never comes, you'll surely regret the day
That you didn't take the extra time for a smile, a hug, or a kiss,
And you were too busy to grant someone, what turned out to be their one last wish.

So hold your loved ones close today, and whisper in their ear,
That you love them very much, and you'll always hold them dear.
Take time to say "I'm sorry", "Please forgive me", "Thank you", or "It's okay".
And if tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today.

-Normal Cornett Marek

Happy Valentines Day my Darling Frances, wherever you are. We miss you more than ever. Show us the way.- Colin

Canine encounters of a close kind....a tale to remember


Oscar is a wonderfully gentle soul. That's probably the only reason I survived this encounter. I like Oscar. I wonder why we all don't get tails like his to play with. (Oscar is Aunty Diana's pet)

A festive favorite dish in Singapore- raw fish with yummy sweet spices!

Happy Chinese New Year everyone!
This year's the year of the Rat- agile, imaginative, resourceful and smelly! Just kidding...

I gave papa a cheap thrill the other day. We were travelling to school in the morning, when I let out a wet sneeze, a very wet sneeze. The kind that runs thick and sticky and dribbles for an eternity down the sides of my nose and neck as my fingers run through it. Well, as is usually the case, papa went into a frenzied panic, as the red light had just turned green in peak morning rush hour. He tried to juggle one hand on the steering wheel, while the other grappled with the tissue paper box, his head swinging like a pendulum, staring at me helplessly and then darting back towards the traffic in front. Alas, he knew it was futile. So in a desperate last act, he flung some tissue paper towards me, like a lifeguard's buoy towards a drowning man, and lo and behold! I picked the tissue up and wiped my snot off! The look of incredulity on papa's face was worth a thousand French fries. He had forgotten that I had grown. No longer that helpless bundle of cloth with 2 legs, arms and a head sticking out. It can think! Egad! That thing is alive! Hurray! What a wonderful world it is, now that papa can drive with me alone and not have to worry about me drinking my own snot.

Reflections...

"Care as the basis and precondition of all cure...
In a community like ours, we have put all the emphasis on cure. We want to be professionals: heal the sick, help the poor, teach the ignorant, and organise the scattered. But the temptation is that we use our expertise to keep a safe distance from that which really matters and forget that, in the long run, cure without care is more harmful than helpful.

What does it mean to care? Real care is not ambiguous. Real care excludes indifference and is the opposite of apathy. The word care finds its roots in the Gothic Kara, which means lament. The basic meaning of care is "to grieve, to experience sorrow, to cry out with."
...We tend to look at caring as an attitude of the strong toward the weak, of the powerful toward the powerless, of the have's toward the have-not's. And, in fact, we feel quite uncomfortable with an invitation to enter into someone's pain before doing something about it.

Still, when we honestly ask ourselves which persons in our lives mean the most to us, we often find it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not-knowing, not-curing, not-healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares.

You might remember moments in which you were called to be with a friend who had lost a wife or husband, child or parent. What can we say, do, or propose at such a moment? There is a strong inclination to say: "Don't cry; the one you loved is in the hands of God." "Don't be sad because there are so many good things left worth living for." But are we ready to really experience our powerlessness in the face of death and say: "I do not understand. I do not know what to do, but I am here with you." Are we willing to not run away from the pain, to not get busy when there is nothing to do, and instead stand in the face of death together with those who grieve?

The friend who cares makes it clear that whatever happens in the external world, being present to each other is what really matters. In fact, it matters more than pain, illness, or even death. It is remarkable how much consolation and hope we can receive from authors who, while offering no answers to life's questions, have the courage to articulate the situation of their lives in all honesty and directness....Their courage to enter so deeply into human suffering and to become present to their own pain gave them the power to speak healing words.

Therefore, to care means first of all to be present to each other. From experience, you know that those who care for you become present to you. When they listen, they listen to you. When they speak, you know they speak to you. And when they ask questions, you know it is for your sake and not for their own. Their presence is a healing presence because they accept you on your terms, and they encourage you to take your own life seriously and to trust you own vocation.

Our tendency is to run away from the painful realities or to try to change them as soon as possible. But cure without care makes us into rulers, controllers, manipulators, and prevents a real communion from taking shape.....Maybe simple because we ourselves are so concerned with being different from the others that we do not even allow ourselves to lay down our heavy armor and come together in a mutual vulnerability. Maybe we are so full of our own opinions, ideas, and convictions that we have no space left to listen to the other and learn from him or her.

To care means first of all to empty our own cup and to allow the other to come close to us. It means to take away the many barriers which prevents us from entering into communion with the other. When we dare to care, then we discover that nothing human is foreign to us, but that all the hatred and love, cruelty and compassion, fear and joy can be found in our own hearts."


-Henri JM Nouwen

" Behind every smile, there is a tear.
In every embrace, there is loneliness.
In every friendship, distance.
And in all forms of light,
there is the knowledge of surrounding darkness "

-Henri J M Nouwen

I recently had my Chickenpox jab. The expectation was worse than the needle itself! I knew I was in trouble when papa held me tight, and I felt something cold and soft pressed against my leg. I cried. But not too much. Papa says I took it like a man as I usually do. Thankfully, that will be the last of my jabs for a very long time. I am now a graduate of the Age of Needles. Yippee!

There is a significant event happening in mummy's old school (Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus) this week. Money gathered by friends and relatives has been used to create a student scholarship for one of their primary school students. It has been named the Frances Ng Award and will be launched for the first time this year at a prize-giving ceremony this coming Friday evening. I am proud that mummy will be remembered so. It is fitting for someone who was always helping others so selflessly, to be honored and remembered in this way. Thank you to all who have made this possible.

"A child is.
In contemplating a stain on the wall, an insect in the grass or the miracle of a rose, the child is not only gazing. The child is being everything on which he is concentrating. He is the beetle, the figure on the wall, he is flower, wind and silence.

In the same way he is the coldness or the anguish of adults, superficiality or their genuine love.

Sometimes he must be left in peace, without demanding that he be always on the go, running, talking, playing, as if contemplation was a disease.

The child immersed in his surroundings is taking part in a process greater than himself, in which he blossoms unconsciously. But he has something more precious than consciousness: intuition about everything, an innocent wisdom."

- Lya Luft, Losses & Gains

I am now 11.6kg and stand 85cm tall. That's according to doctor Phua whom I saw last week. He says he is encouraged by all the progress I have made so far and that I am growing well in stature. But he cautioned that it is still too early to tell what I may suffer from in the long run. I can only try my best. Doctor Phua says that we will be able to tell more when I am 3 years old. I hope that I will be up to mark by then. Mummy will give me the strength and papa will be there to back me up, that I am sure of.

I said my first mandarin words the other day! I said "jai jien" ("goodbye") to my grandfather on my way home. I learned this from my teachers in the morning school I attend. But I am still shy of my mandarin so I don't say it all the time. Papa says that I am talking a whole lot more these days, most of which only I can understand. But I am beginning to get the hang of this thing they call "English". For now, I am content that they can't understand me when I cuss.

My buddy Vee Shen celebrated his 2nd birthday this week. I want to congratulate him for two years of a life well lived! I can't imagine feeling so old! I've been told that not long after, your teeth start to drop out! So sad when one enjoys his food so much. Never mind, papa says we have to learn to age gracefully. Mummy dearest, wish you were here.

Those who don't feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,
let them sleep.

This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
I you want to improve your mind that way,
sleep on.
I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.
If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you, and sleep

-Rumi

Let's take a walk together near the ocean shore
hand in hand, you and I.
Let's cherish every moment we have been given
for time is passing by.
I often pray before I lay down by your side;
If you receive your calling before I awake
Could I make it through the night?
Cherish the love we have
we should cherish the life we live
Cherish the love, cherish the life

The world is always changing
nothing stays the same
But love will stand the test of time.
The next life that we live in remains to be seen
Will you be by my side?
I often pray before I lay down by your side;
Cherish the love we have
we should cherish the life we live
Cherish the love
cherish the life

Cherish the love we have - every night when I think about you -
For as long as we both shall live -
I pray that my dream will come true
yes I do - cherish the love.
Cherish the love we have -
We have cherished ev'ry moment we have had together -
We should cherish the life we live - hand in hand
you and I -
Cherish the love we have for as long as we both shall live.

-Cherish, Kool and the Gang

I'm Walking! Or at least the wobbly kind.
Papa asked for a 'cup of tea' from my 'kitchen'. I was only too happy to oblige.
Papa says that's good service for you! I was walking tall.
I am not very steady yet, but I am getting better & stronger with each passing day.
Papa says it was my best Christmas gift to him to date.
Mummy would be so proud of me.

Remembering Mummy Dearest, September 2007: Basketball Games at CHIJ

Once again family and faithful gathered at the basketball courts of mummy's old alma mater, the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus School, to remember, honour and cherish her. It was a very meaningful and heartfelt occasion enjoyed by one and all. It was a well organised event and kudos must go to Aunty Sheena and Prisca for spearheading the efforts. They even went to all the trouble of making colorful friendship wrist-bands for all the participants. Each band came imprinted with mummy's name on it. Mummy dearest, may the fond memories of you never fade.


The Loyal and the True...

Deja Vu! Grandpa does it again...(no, he didn't score that basket!)

There was even a kid's competition.

It’s been a while since papa has shared his thoughts with this Blog community. Time and energy have been scarce commodities since we moved home. Papa apologises for the hiatus. Our move back home has been punctuated by a few significant events that have yet to be recorded, namely, the second memorial basketball game in honor of mummy dearest held in September 2007, the significant demise of mummy’s Uncle Yew Wah, Uncle Chris’s and Aunty Anita’s wedding, without a doubt, the nuptial of the year, and last but not least my trip to Australia! Papa will be writing about these events over the next few entries.

The move home has been smooth so far. Routines have re-established themselves, I like my home and we have settled comfortably as far as the physical aspects are concerned. Papa distracts himself with mundane chores and anything else, so as to maintain an even keel with the emotional storms. Many things lie exactly where they were all those years ago when mummy was still around. Papa has not had the heart or strength to move or discard anything for the time being. He senses that a period of passive mourning still needs to work itself out. Renewal will have to take place eventually, just not for now.

We feel your presence mummy, guide us as we journey in search of you.

My Trip to Pulau Ubin...

It was two Sundays ago in August that I had my first Bum boat ride to the island of Ubin. It is a ten minute ride off the south-eastern shores of Singapore. It was a cloudy day and my buddy Vee Shen was with me. We started off with a hearty breakfast at the famous Changi Village hawker center on the mainland, before setting off on our noisy, diesel filled splutter across the waters. We rented a tandem bike with a baby seat attached and set off for our intended destination- the Chek Jawa Wetlands.


It was a healthy half an hour ride over undulating road and mud tracks, with leafy jungles on either side, before we finally panted our way to our destination. The signage along the mud track declared "one way to Chek Jawa", left papa feeling a little perturbed but bemused.



It was a pleasant walk along the muddy coast. Unfortunately, the tide had risen and most of the more interesting features of the wetlands had been submerged. So we had to content ourselves with a leisurely stroll along the well constructed coastal board walk. It was breezy, and we got to see the airplanes up close as they landed at our famous nearby Changi Airport. The skies started to close in on us towards the end of our walk as we hastily retreated towards our start point. The rain finally caught up with us however on the last leg of our return journey. A tropical thunderstorm of ferocious rain pelted down on us as papa struggled to get the flimsy ponchos over our heads. The thin ponchos were of scant consolation as the intensity of the rain ensured that we were all soaked to the skin by the time we eventually found some shelter. I thought it was fun. All in all, a very enjoyable and satisfying hike was enjoyed by all. I hope to come again some day soon.

This month was a momentous one. We have finally moved back to mummy and papa's home. Our home. It was not an easy decision. But it had to be done in order for us to move forward. Papa says it is necessary for us to face the past so that we can look to the future.

Papa is very grateful for all the love and unconditional support that he has received from Uncle Douglas and Aunty Elena. It has been almost a year and five months that we have stayed with them, ever since mummy went to Heaven. They have provided a haven and sanctuary for papa to heal, and for me to grow. It was a gesture that reflects love in its purest form. For that he is eternally grateful.


Papa says that he is much stronger today. He has learned to face mummy's absence with fortitude and humility. He feels mummy's spirit within him, guiding his every action. Now he says, it is time to rebuild our lives and set to the task of bringing me up in a way that would make mummy proud. Papa says that I am their loving creation, and he intends to see to it that I turn out to be best that I can be. Mummy may no longer be around to help him, but she will be his utmost inspiration, as she has always been.

Papa took leave from work for a week so that we could make the move. There was much to do- cleaning, moving belongings and ensuring that things were in working order. New routines have been established and papa is confident that the transition will go smoothly. Despite the melancholy that permeates everything in the house, papa feels strangely at one with the surroundings. As if the void in his heart has been soothed by the closeness to mummy's things. This house was at the centre of their lives, and now it's belongings, it's smells and it's memories are the closest things papa has to remember mummy by. Papa says it is a weird feeling- trying to fill the void in your heart with memories locked into inanimate objects. Then there is the question of what to do with mummy's things. How do you dispose of your beloved's belongings without losing some part of yourself in the process. How much can you afford to lose before you crumble. How do you move forward when the sentimentality is overwhelming. These will be some of the longest days of our lives.

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First, to let go of life. In the end, to take a step without feet; to regard this world as invisible, and to disregard what appears to be the self. Heart, I said, what a gift it has been to enter this circle of lovers, to see beyond seeing itself, to reach and feel within the breast. -Rumi

An Occasion To Remember our beloved Frances...

A message from the organising committee:

"Dear Friends,

It has been a year since we held our first basketball memorial to remember our dear friend, Frances, who passed away in April last year. The 1st Basketball Memorial game, held in September last year, was a success with a very encouraging turnout of more than 50 people - friends, friends of friends' and families, who came to play the game, support the players, or
simply meet up with old friends.

A big thank you to those of you who came to play and support the event.

We would like to continue this event - and are now planning the 2nd Memorial game soon. We really hope you will take the time to come and join us to play or just to lend your support.

Details of the game are as follows:

Date: Saturday, 1 September 2007
Time: 4:00pm - 7:00pm
Venue: CHIJ Basketball Courts, Toa Payoh Lorong 1

For those of you who can play, please do join us for the Game. And even if you can't, just be game enough - it's really just for fun and your talent and fitness, or lack thereof will not be relevant. Most importantly, we are holding this game in the memory of our friend Frances and her love of this game.

So please do come down and join us and let us know in advance, if you can make it. Bring your family along as well so they can join in too.

We would love to see you all there.

Thanks!!

Sheena, Prisca, Charlotte, Liling and Valerie
(Organizing Committee - Basketball Memorial 2007)"