sunshine through the fog

I was a difficult baby. What they call a "lotus baby". In that when I was in my mommy's womb I was seated upright, not head-down like most other babies. The doctor tried to "turn" me the right way round. Three times. But each time, I turned back up. In the end my mom had to go for a caesarean. They're not so medically advanced 29 years ago. So my mom has this long scar horizontally in the lower center of her tummy. A scar she has shown me several times while telling me this story. With a smile on her face. Always.

When I was in kindergarten, I peed in my pants. For what reason I don't know. The teacher stuck me in the toilet. That was where my mom found me when she came to pick me up. She flew into a mighty rage. Gave the teacher a good scolding. Took me home and switched kindergarten for me the very next day. I never went back to the same kindergarten. She saw to it that I didn't need to. Her daughter was humiliated and that cannot happen again.

I came home one day during Primary Six telling my mom I wanna learn the piano. Because I saw my classmate performing on stage and I thought it looked so cool. The very next day, she brought me to Yamaha and bought me a four-thousand dollar piano. A luxury I had no idea how she managed to afford. But she did. Without hesitation. Because I wanted to. And she's so proud of me.

I grew up eating chicken rice with drumstick. I never learnt to eat breast meat. Because she made sure I didn't have to. But she was always eating the breast meat. She said she liked it better. But I always wondered. If she thought breast meat was nicer why was she always paying more to buy drumstick for me and my brother?

I have urticaria. It's a skin condition that means I've rashes at inopportune times of the day. It started when I was 12. And it hasn't stopped yet. Perhaps it never will. I'm more or less resigned to my fate and learned to live with it. More than 10 years ago. But not my mom. She never gave up. She was always bringing me to doctors - chinese, western, once she even wanted me to go Malaysia to consult some bomoh. She tried every herbal recipe she heard would help me. Non-herbal ones too. I've tried a wide range of chinese herbs, some bitter, some stinky, some plain disgusting. I've had 酒饼 (some stuff used to make rice wine I think) rubbed all over me. I've eaten sea horses. There was once she went around scouting for fresh duck eggs that comes with a green coating on the shell - not easy to find daily. That fried with some veg is supposed to cure me. I had that for nearly 2 weeks until I couldn't stand eating any more eggs.

I suffer from perpetual headaches. Sometime I have it so bad I wake up in the middle of the night crying. Somehow my mom always managed wake up at almost the same time. She'd sit with me. Massage my temples. Talk to me to take my mind off the pain. Until the panadol or whatever medication set in and I fall asleep. I always wondered how she knew.

When I told her I was getting married, she was so elated she clapped her hands. As we were not planning to ROM/go through the ceremony until at least a year later, she said there's no hurry informing people yet. But during the wake, it turned out everyone knew. She told the hairdressing auntie. She talked about how she wanted to grow out her hair so she can curl it in time for the wedding dinner. She looked at dresses. She told friends and neighbours at the coffee shop. At the market. At the karaoke sessions. Everyone. She was so happy. So looking forward to it. So busy planning for it, in her own way.

My dad said every time they went out, she'd always stop by jewelry shops to look at pearl earrings. For me. I've been wanting pearl studs, you know. For a while. But I never mentioned it to her. Somehow, she knew. But she never did get to buy them for me.

The fateful night I received the call from my dad in the cab, she actually told my dad not to call me. Not to let me worry. She's always like that. Wanting to let me know the good and not the bad. Even to the last minute.

It's been a hundred days since you left us. Not a day has passed since I'm not missing you.