11thNovember2011

An auspicious date.
It comes once every one century?
So what do I want to remember by?
What do I wish for?

First, I remember my aged parents. My father, mother and mother-in-law. They are in their 80s and 90s. I reflect on the things they teach me in life; both formal and informal. When I was younger, I was led by my father with his first decision to send me to an English medium school. My father has always believed since the olden days that a good command of English will mean a bright future. Very far-sighted for a sinkeh all the way from China. He was right. I am what I am today for a decision made 49 years ago. English was never a first language in the home. But my father was brave; he believed I would learn and I did.
My mother-in-law all the way from China too was a teacher teaching in a Chinese vernacular school. She is different but nevertheless not too wrong. The old folks like to fight over which language is the superior one. She warned me before I sent the girls to national type schools that China will emerge as a super power and not knowing Mandarin would mean a disadvantage to them. I defied her. I could have made a mistake; that I admit. Why ? You may ask. It's never a mistake to have an additional lingua franca added to your pocket. If only my girls knew Mandarin they will be a more competent doctor, architect and lawyer. They will be able to converse and deal with Asians more eloquently.
But... the girls will never agree with me. Take Sara for example; her girly pals tell me that she will not be what she is if she had been brought up in a Chinese vernacular school. Children under different school ethos develop differently. Thoughts, mannerisms, precepts and the like will differ under a different system. To be exact, Esther Kang confirmed that if another decision would ever to be made about the type of school that Sara should go to; it would still be a be a national mainstream school where the children of all cultures in the country come together. Sara is what she is because of the school she went to where Malay and English were used concurrently. So they tell me that their next generation will still go to a national main stream school like their parents. How about it? I leave it to them. I will only be a grandparent not a parent. I know many will not agree with them. Let it be.
Then I remember the old folks again. Even at this ripe old age, they are still doing things to their best. You should see how my mother function in the kitchen. Spick and span. My father is alert and still count coherently; never even having a coin cheated out of him. When I told him I want to quit he called and told me that I would be bored after a month of rest and actually gave a 'no' mandate. Do I need to obey again? Do I? Do I?
Of late, the old folks have to handle bouts of cough, cold and falls ! Surely they are getting less resistant and more clumsy by the days. My heart is sad at the reality but I encourage myself each time they are not well that they are fighters and how fast they are back on their feet again. I thank God for His great mercies upon their lives.
On this day, I also long for days when I can be with my daughters again. Even when I am very busy, they are always at the recesses of my mind. I wonder at their days to come. I wonder at their plans. Will I be delighted? Yet, I am but only a part of their life. I cannot control their destiny. But I really miss them. Sometimes I move around the house aimlessly from one empty room to another. But soon, soon , the house will be noisy again when the girls are back. The thought is uplifting.
But on this day, most of all I thank God for His compassion and mercies upon life each day. I pray for good days to come by and to be living in His mercies and grace each day. I pray for good things to happen to my country and to people around me.

Tomorrow this day will pass... and yet my thoughts are still the same.
To be in a meaningful existence by the grace of God.