Ah Mah's Plot in the Collumbarium

Here's Ah Mah's plot in the collumbarium.

It is located at Gui Yuan Crematorium, Block 12A, Plot 33A. The place where we doubt we will visit very much again since this certainly is not the place where she is residing. Mum and dad also bought a place just a row below Ah Mah's.

The purple bouquet fits just nicely in the vase. Purple is her favourite colour.

See you again in our heavenly home Ah Mah. We love you. Heaps.

19 Days After Ah Mah's Departure

Ah Mah is still greatly missed. Memories of her still find their places in my mind everyday especially during the journey to and from work or before winding down for the night. It is inappropriate for someone who has lived up to a ripe old age of 85 to be forgotten in just 2.5 weeks. Surely there has to be more to reminisce about. Things in the household has resumed to how it was before. Things did not really change. The only person who were greatly affected is me. I am still not over her.

Out of all Ah Mah's children, only 2 were in the country during her passing and none were at her bedside except for me and the maid. This fact took a long time for me to digest. I cannot fathom why nor how a woman who has sacrificed so much for her children and one who has a reputation of stirring instant fancy towards herself unconsciously, who is a mother, sister, grandmother, great-grandmother, counsellor, comforter to many, tower of strength to not 1 but 5 children and many grandchildren, could be left to depart in such aloneness. If i had not stayed over, she would have passed on alone in the presence of her carer, the maid. Is this all that could possibly have happened? Silently exiting from the world when so much effort and love and sacrifice have been extended in one's lifetime?Just like that??

After this episode, i had to consciously will myself to believe and accept that despite all that has been or will be done, this may be the sad fact that one has to face. At this moment in time, i cannot imagine me breathing my last on my deathbed without my children beside me. But this thought has to change. Or i will depart in a state of utter disbelief and pain. I could already hear myself saying this at that time: "hello? where is everyone? i am on my way to see the Lord which means all of you will not be seeing me forever for as long as you live. Isn't this fact stark or heart-wrenching enough to make all of you jump straight up from whatever you are doing and wherever you may be to fly straight back to place your faces before me for the very last time??? Doesn't it grief you to know that i may be gasping for breath or writh in intense pain before i breath my last? Don't you deem it important to ensure that i do not walk alone in that dark tunnel before meeting my Saviour at the other end? Wouldn't it have been sweet to assure me to continue walking to the end and that my Saviour's presence at the end is certain? Don't you want to give me a good long bear hug or wet my face with kisses? Don't i deserve that after all those affection i have showered on you? Isn't it appropriate to wave me a final goodbye after all that i have done for you? Aren't you going to miss me? your mummy? one whom you adored so intensely when you were little?

That was my thought for the past 2 weeks. I have since come to accept it as such. Not doing this means i have underestimated the intensity of life's toils. It engulfs with an intensity and urgency that warrant continous movement and focus if life itself is to be sustained. Realities are far stronger contenders for distant memories of love, care and tenderness. Doesn't go well with the melancholic me. My type of personality profiling takes a longer time to get over a grief. Even the main gate reminds me of how Ah Mah was carried away by the 4 caretakers in a van in that silver platform. The black sofa, her bed and her cup still ignite that sense of loss everytime i caught sight of them when i go home to pick Chris up everyday.

I must bring myself to accept the fact that one's final exit will ultimately be between them and the Creator. It may be before the presence of a few nurses. Or my caretaker. Or if i am blessed, one out of three children. Or ultimately, just by myself. Maybe by then, i would have had a change of mind and much preferred to go alone with just the promise of salvation and the certainty of seeing my Saviour at the end of the tunnel.

3 Days After Ah Mah's Departure

The days that followed were like a roller coaster of emotions, all within the same day. Duties and chores kept me going through the day but as soon as a task is completed, the memories of Ah Mah came flooding back. Things that she used to say so very frequently became audible. Places and things I encountered had her feel and flavour in it. It isn't easy to describe. Regrets and guilt also came a-calling everytime I had memory-flashback of the times when I could have spent with her but was preoccupied with something else. Despite all these, the good Lord gave me ample time to prepare myself for Ah Mah's departure and I am everlastingly grateful for this. He knows how much I needed that. I rest in the comfort that Ah Mah chose to go home when I was around. Could she have found comfort in my presence? This is very comforting to me.

This was the room which Ah Mah stayed in with the maid, Midah, for the past 2 years after she fractured both her femur and could not make it to her own room upstairs. As usual, she always has a container next to her and is filled with items like tiger balm, lip balm, comb, tissues, fisherman's friend mints, lotion and a small torchlight.

I had long ago wanted a tangible token from Ah Mah to remember her by. She had given me her gold ring, one which the original carvings have been moulded smooth from frequent use. 2 weeks before her departure, I ransacked my old house in search for this. It is of sovereign importance to me, especially at this time. Could not find it at all. Was in such state of distress that I could not focus for several days. I later found out that I have returned it to Ah Mah and asked her to give it to me at a much later stage but this ring unfortunately slipped off Ah Mah's finger into a drain instead, as recited by the maid.

All is not lost. She still has a few items which are capable of making tangible reminders.

This is the watch which I had bought from the money she gave me when I was a teenager. Needless to say, it has become my priced possession. It will be an antique heirloom, bursting with sentimental value. I had it brought to life by replacing it with new battery and wore it soonafter.

This was the blouse which Ah Mah wore just before she passed on. The maid had washed it, much to my utmost distress so it smelled of detergent rather than her natural body odour. No credits for being efficient here.

Ah Mah's second favourite pair of shoes which she wears to church often.

The handbag which Ah Mah carries to church. It has become my favourite handbag. Give me an Hermes or a Chanel and I will choose this one hands down.

The quintessential black pouch, the shape and design which has Ah Mah's name written on it. This now has a home in the most cosy corner of my handbag.

This is the bottle water that Ah Mah bought for me. She bought one for everyone, each in different colour. It is suppose to be something we take with us to bed every night. She always emphasized how important it is to drink lots of water.


That telephone booklet which has Ah Mah's Picasso swirls in it. She is not educated but has sufficient creativity to draw pictures to describe the person. I recalled a friend by the name of Mr Lee appeared as a lemon in Ah Mah's booklet. Lemon stands for "Lei". A picture of a friend who fries char kuay teow for a living was described by Ah Mah by drawing a "wok". Another friend whose name is "Hoong" was transcribed into a dark red medium-sized dot to signify the colour "red" for "Hoong".

Here are some of the pages from that telephone booklet. I have seen her writing like a child learning to write for the first time. That image of her holding the pen and her intense focus to get a number written is deeply embedded in my mind as if i have seen it just yesterday. Take a look at them. The slashes were deliberate as it meant that the person has shifted and has lost contact or is no longer around.

More random postings will follow.

Ah Mah's Wake and Funeral Service: 18 & 19 July 2011

Ah Mah's wake was held in Gui Yuan Crematorium, Jalan 229, Section 51A, P.J. It was not a grand ceremony. The parlour was simple. Just 2 bouquet of flowers with about 30 or so attendees. This is great because the attention was then fully on her and nothing else.

The sermon presented during the funeral service was great. If i am not a believer, it would have hit all the right spots. It addresses issues of loss, of eternal life, of just being asleep until rapture, of Jesus building mansions for us, of being guaranteed of an eternal home, of comfort and peace, of security and of fighting the good fight and keeping the faith till the end.

The verses that were read were these and they were truly comforting to me.


Isaiah 57:1-2
The righteous perish and no one ponders it in his heart; devout men are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death.

1 Thessalonian 4:13-18
Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left in the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore, encourage each other with these words.

2 Corinthians 5:1-10
Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed,we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.

My favourite phrase to sum it all up, the phrase that has successfully comforted me to know that Ah Mah, though gone, still lives and will live forever, is nonetheless John 11:25: I am the resurrection and the life. he who believes in me WILL LIVE, eventhough he dies. And whosoever lives and believes in me will NEVER DIE. This will also be the verse for the granite of her plot in the collumbarium.

I found these out during the funeral service:

• Ah Mah has stood on the church podium before hundreds of people to give a testimony of her faith. She has also spoken about how she called on Jesus' name during a fall and saw white light. Apart from being awed by her courage in speaking in public (a trait which her oldest granddaughter certainly did not inherit), I realised my unnecessary stress in trying to make her understand the mechanics of salvation during the last days. Of course she understood!! Silly me.
• The pastors were amazed that Ah Mah did not suffer pain at all despite the brain scan revealing 3 tumours. We were told that people with tumours of any sort suffer great and intense pain. Now this is the latest revelation of God's love for her which we just found out today. God knew how low her pain threshold is and so shielded her from all that pain and trauma. Halleluyah. Thank you Lord!!

Paying last respect to Ah Mah before the wooden flap is closed for the casket to be wheeled into the crematorium. Took a mental snapshot and did a memory flash back in "fast-track" mode.

Love you loads, Ah Mah. Thank you for being there for me all these while. I wish i had spent more time with you when you are still here. Heaven rejoices on your arrival. Enjoy yourself with God and Jesus. Dance, party, go wild, relax, chill and just be. No more pain and suffering. Just joy in its purest form. Take it all in. Rest in peace until you hear the trumpet call and the sound of the archangel. And then we will all meet again. What a great day this will be.

The walk from the parlour to the crematorium was so very peaceful. The sun hid itself during that 10 minutes walk, making it so effortlessly pleasant. It was also joyously peaceful. Took a peer up the sky and smiled. Ah Mah must be there watching us from above, in that smile of hers, one that she always flashes, followed by that unmistakable emotional verbal acknowledgement which i have seen and heard many times.

Final goodbye before being wheeled into the burner.

Last gift.

The tokens to those who came.

The agenda of the service.



The collumbarium:

Ah Mah's plot at Block 12A, Box no. 33A. It will be ready in a month's time with her photo and the bible verse on John 11:25 engraved on it. Ah Mah will not just rest here. She will forever be part of me. Afterall, I am her granddaughter. I have her blood and DNA flowing through me.



This isn't the end. More stories on Ah Mah will follow. There are a truckload more that i have not blogged about. There are certainly a lot more to be talked about and reminisce in that ripe old age of 85. She has also just celebrated her 85th birthday on 2 July. I am going to dedicate the month of July to remember her by every year as it is a month that she was born and also went home to be with the Lord. 

Ah Mah: The Final Moments before Departure

That time came: 1:25am on 18 July 2011. Ah Mah went home to be with her Saviour. Her final moment? All peaceful and well, no struggling nor gasping. She just went from laboured breathing to no breathing. In other words, the good Lord took her in her sleep. And she had her oldest granddaughter holding her hands all through the departure.
Got a call in the afternoon to alert about plummeting pulse, laboured breathing and inability to swallow. She has been excreting blood-filled black urine for 3 days, a sign i later discovered as muscle breakdown which means Ah Mah has a lifespan of 2 days or less. She then slipped into a coma yesterday afternoon. We were there from noon till dinner time to talk to her. I did my usual topic, about following Jesus and that everyone loves her, Chris shouted several times in her ears, saying I love you, Ah Mah, Leonard spoke in cantonese about the cross and Jesus. We then went for grocery shopping. Came back after that to spend more time. Then we left for home.

The best thing that came out of this is the decision that i made to spend a night with granny. i had an intuition that she may not make it past another day so i had wanted to sleep next to her on the same bed, just to hug and talk and cuddle and smell and stroke her. Afraid i would break the bed and cautious about her not having enough oxygen in such close proximity, i decided to sleep on a couch next to her. Opened up her fingers and placed them onto mine, exactly the same way we held hands when i laid on her lap while listening to the master storyteller during those dimly-lit nights two decades ago.

And so i gazed. At her and at her heaving chest. Her lips closed and opened occasionally. Good sign coz there is still life. Pulse was irregular. I could not explain the tears that just could not stop flowing. Haven't i prepared myself for all these? Spoken all there is to say and did all there is to do. We were waiting for the Comforters to come around in the morning to check on her although a part of me wanted her to go to that marvellous place where she no longer needs to suffer. I had to thank that uncomfortable couch for it was this that kept me awake and it was after we held hands for about 2 hours that i realised that the laboured breathing is gone. Thought she may have fallen into deep sleep. Then felt her chest. No heaving. Placed my finger at the tip of her nose. No air. Felt pulse. Could only feel mine. Jumped out of couch. Alerted maid. She also lept. She checked and said it has happened before and her heartbeat will resume after five minutes. So we waited. After ten minutes, still nothing. Jaw agaped. I opened her eyes and found full iris but without reaction. Knew then that Ah Mah has left us for good this time. Placed my lips on her forehead for a few minutes and heard the receding of fluid. Seen a documentary about the anatomy after death and there seems to be a receding of bodily fluid that happens immediately after a person has breathes his last breath. Glad that the suffering is all over. It must have been excruciatingly painful for her to have endured that urinary tract infection and the general organ failure had she been alive.

Stillness swept over. Still gazing at Ah Mah's lifeless body but this time, there was no movement. It was heaving so much just minutes ago. Was told that the brain is still alive 45 minutes after the last breath and so i did it again: tilted her head so that i could speak into her ears for what really is the last ministering session: Follow Jesus.

We had about an hour plus to digest that fact and took the chance to stroke her head and hands while the maid packed her belongings for the mortician. I was bequeathed the honour of choosing the attire which she is to wear and handpicked the one i designed for her for my wedding night. A pale green hard georgette pantsuit with embroidery on the chest and layered collar. The crystals were hand-ironed on the embrodered motifs by me just a few hours before the wedding. Her favourite shoes were the dark blue velvet soft cover-ups.

4 caretakers arrived in a van with a silver platform. Went into Ah Mah's room and effortlessly carried her from her bed and transferred her onto the silver platform. Reality really strucked when they covered her entire body, including her face, in a white cloth. Within minutes, she is gone. All body, soul and spirit. The bed which she has been lying on for years was now empty, with the sunken shape of her body still visible. My Ah Mah is really, really gone now. The lady who cared for me from birth, one whose lap i laid my head on, the only one who ever showed me tenderness and warmth, one who took care of me when i was ill, who covered me with blankie at night, one who instilled in me the importance of having an insurance policy, one whose words governed my natural thought life, one who cooked all my meals growing up, one who provided that glimpse of life full of hope, is now not here.

In our finite minds, my vision of heaven is like the places one sees in Calgary and Alberta. Endless streams of clear water in the midst of colourful floral beds, well-trimmed grass against cosy pebbles. The mansions that Jesus were talking about could have resembled the gorgeous houses i have seen in Beverly Hills, LA. Ah Mah is certainly in a better place than where we are now. For eternity. Spending time with the Creator of everything. The only thing that fulfilles our deepest desire. I hope my mansion would look like this but i have a feeling that my version of majesty and grandeur is probably less than 2-cents' worth of what God is capable of creating.

Ah Mah: 11 days before the departure

7 July 2011:

I visited Ah Mah 2 days ago. Her condition seemed to have improved as she was cognizant and able to respond with mono-syllabic answers. I delved into the mechanics of salvation again and Ah Mah gave mono-syllabic acknowledgement. This time, i told her that everyone loved her dearly. Told myself i should just release her into God's hand and let the Holy Spirit take over. Went there again after work but she was sleeping so i didn't wake her. The next day, drs reported that she is doing well and as such, the UV drip and urine catheter were removed, leaving the feeding tube still intact. Mum bought a huge cake for the drs and nurses of the geriatric ward for the care rendered. So everyone is happy.

Then came the results of the brain scan that placed us all back to where we were before her alleged recovery. They found a tumour measuring 1.5cm in her brain. This had caused the stroke. Dr made personal calls to my dad to make that solemn declaration: the time is near and even went as far as asking where the rest of the family was. Recommendation of a "hospic", i.e. a Comforter, further substantiated that diagnosis. The Comforter is someone who makes house visits after the patient has been discharged to provide emotional support to the patient as well as assisting with insertion of feeding tube, catheter etc. So there we have it, the culprit that caused the admission in the first place. A brain surgery would may accelerate the exit more than it is meant to ease recovery so this has been ruled out. This also means that Ah Mah will be at ther mercy of the timebomb in her head.

Dad and i talked about the possible trigger event that will eventually end her life. Went into the mechanics of the human anatomy of the heart, brain, muscles and shortlisted it to 3 possibilities: if the tumour erupts, the resulting haemorrage will then affect all function of the body. We are not sure if there will be pain but i would imagine that there may be. Another possibility is that the heart muscle will constrict to the extent that it ceases such constriction that results in the heart stop beating. It is the latter possibility that i am hoping will not materialise because this may cause her to struggle for a few moments before the exit. I guess certain occurrence are inevitable so our prayer is that the "trigger" will be shortlived and painless.

I realised that it is easier to deal with a loss once one has been prepared for it. We have talked openly about the funeral logistics in a very detailed manner, something that was never done before in my family on family-related matters. We discussed the location of the collambarium, the pricing, the agenda for the day, the travelling of the body from the hospital to the mortician, even the mode of preservation of the body, the burning cubicle, the funeral parlour, the enlargement of her photo, the selection of her favourite attire, right down to scattering her ashes in the sea. This discussion made me teary-eyed and i realised then that the real thing is really quite different nomatter how much mental readiness i am gradually preparing myself for this past few days.

My only prayer now, apart from the salvation, is that the exit, when it eventually comes, will be painless and easy. That she will not be made to gasp for air for too long or encounter traumatic pain of any sort. Exiting while sleeping would be the best. I will pray for this fervently.

Ah Mah: 12 days before the departure

4 July 2011:
This is going to be a long walk down memory lane. My earliest memory of Ah Mah was when i was about 5. A chronological account is not possible so this post will be yet another utter randomness.

The story should start with my bolster. I have very early on transcribed Ah Mah into my bolster, perhaps a common practice for kids who had high adoration towards someone to transform them into physical objects in the hope that they will exist perpetually . The bolster measured about 2 feet long and has 2 white pullstrings at each end which i took to twirling. This is a die-hard habit up till now. I took care of this bolster as if it has a life. Made sure it is covered in blanket when i was to part with it for the day, carried it as if it was a baby, sniffing, hugging, made further transcription into my pretend child when we play "aunty-aunty", a silly game which i used to play with a sibling when we were growing up. The bolster grew in size to accommodate my height. It even followed me to college and eventually across the sea to England. I recalled trying to stuff it into my luggage despite one that is already overflowing to its brim. There was no way i could let Ah Mah stay behind while i embark on that discovery journey overseas. No amount of ridiculing from my coursemates are going to deter me from bringing it over, even if it means my friends having a good laugh from sighting a bolster falling out of the luggage.

My childhood was largely influenced by her. She woke up every morning at 5am getting us ready for school: made breakfast that consists of milo and bread. She was my hair stylist for years. She could do any style: single ponytail, high or low, loose or tight, elevated or flat, all at my command. She would use the tip of her comb (a striped white and green one) and part my hair in the middle before doing it up into a double ponytail. The fastidious me has asked her to redo it several times when i felt that the amount of hair wasn't exactly divided into half.

After school, i would come home to the smell of homecooked food. I could sniff it miles away, the most prominent dish being the fried pomfret, always followed by a soup. Her most notable dish was the sambal belacan. Again, her cooking also set the standard for all other dishes that i am to taste since they were the first ones to scintillate my tastebuds.

She was also an ardent listener of this ancient stereo called the Redifussion, a station which i am not sure still exists today. Everynight before bedtime, she would dim the light at the dining area and enjoy the rendition of this storyteller called "Lei Tai Sor" whom, to a 5 year old me, is a master storyteller. I sampled countless different experiences just by listening to him and what made it best was that i slept on Ah Mah's lap while doing so. This is the ultimate bonding time. It was during one of these times while we both chilled in the dim and listening to this master storyteller that the unspoken sadness began to sprout, the imminent pain of losing her. It was then that i decided to transcribe her into a bolster as a temporal antidote to perpetual existence.

 Then there was those trips to the wet markets with her. She would carry a round rattan basket and 2 plastic bags to fill up the purchase. Everyone in the market knows who she is. In the modern world of social networking, she is considered a popular woman. And if she were to have a facebook, her friend's list would be a high 3 digit figure with lots of comments on her wall. People generally liked her. She naturally evokes a sense of respect from the meat/veggie sellers. She somehow has the demeanor that sets people to offer respect generously.

When i was able to drive, her first command was to drive her to the supermarket. It was Carrefour at Subang Jaya, a place she would refer to as the Red Blue and White shop, these being the colour of Carrefour's logo. She already knows the aisles by heart, each time zooming straight into the right aisle without a glitch and without the need to refer to a shopping list! She loves shopping. Her choice of purchase drove home the fact that she is not just a practical person with the staples in mind. In addition to all the necessities, she would buy "luxuries" such as a certain most costly brand of cereal. What could pass as a practical Nestle cereal, she would switch it to Australian Weetabix. Typical brands such as Hwa Tai / Khong Guan would be replaced with the Danish Kjeldsens. No ordinary peanut butter would do. It had to be Goober's. Housebrand like Carrefour's noodles would be scoffed at and would be upgraded to Maggi. No other brands would do for the black soy sauce except for this one that has the "fat baby picture" on it. I later discovered that it is called "PoPo". So you see, everytime i buy these things, i see Ah Mah in the Danish Kjelsens, the Goober Grape peanut butter, the PoPo and the Maggi. Before we leave the supermarket, she would ask if i wanted anything. You don't get such request very often so imagine my joy of doing grocery shopping with her. If i took 2 packs of soup-in-a-cup, she would ask me to take 4. If i chose a box of laughing cow cheese, she would asked if i would also like to try another brand "in addition" to the one chosen. To someone who has not started earning her keeps, this is liberty indeed.

At the point of writing, she is still in the hospital. She had urinary tract infection today and at about 6am, was found gasping for breath. I cringed everytime the phone rang at ungodly hours. Mum told me that the hospital called to say that she is unstable so i sped to the hospital. She was hooked up to an oxygen mask. Dr ran through the procedures to determine the family's choice of dealing with the "exit phase", whether we want her hooked up on a life support which may artificially prolong her life or facilitate a gradual painless exit by continuing with the oxygen mask coupled with morphin until her heart stops beating naturally. The latter option was chosen. And so this choice had me hunting for those conscious moments where i could talk to her about Jesus again. Everytime when she appeared conscious, i jumped to my feet and shared. This time asking specific questions that refer to the mechanics of salvation. Didn't know it was so difficult to translate such concepts in Teo Chew but did it anyway. She gave mild acknowledgement. I could hear muffled " hm hm" but eyes were closed. A million doubts and questions surfaced. Does she really understand? How much technical knowledge of salvation is required? Is it sufficient if she acknowledges Christ her Saviour? Does she needs to know that Jesus died to save us?

At a critical time like this, the only thing that could convince me beyond reasonable doubt is to hear an audible voice from God reassuring me that "She is safe. She will be with me".

I tried my best. Will do that again tomorrow.

Ah Mah: 17 days before the departure

1 July 2011:
I had to write about my granny tonight. She will turn 85 tomorrow. 

Ah Mah on Chris' 3rd Birthday Party

At the moment, she is in the hospital for suspected mild stroke. She was readmitted after being discharged for a week due to difficulty in breathing. The common symptoms of weak pulse and irregular heartbeat drove all of us to believe that the end may be near. Miraculously, she got better and was discharged but now readmitted after she was unable to feed. Another symptom of "being near". Drs have inserted a tube into her nostrils to allow direct fluid feeding. I had wanted to let her know that I was there but her eyes remained shut. Whispered into her ears. I get response sometimes but none most of the time. It hurts to see someone you loved so dearly being in such a condition. Her first admission has gotten us prepared. I had imagined the worst and wanted to ensure that she REALLY understood the meaning of salvation. Asked her to remember Jesus, that's all she needs to think about. She nodded then. That was 2 weeks ago.



The reason i visited her at all today is also for the same reason. It was more to convince MYSELF that she really understands what salvation means. It is important to ME because i want to see her again when we are all in that better place. There was no response for about an hour. Uttered a prayer and stroked her. Tried again just before i turned to leave, saying "Remember Jesus yeah?" Lo and behold she opened her mouth and said this "Wa Chai" which means "I know" in Teo Chew. Those words jolted me upright through and through. She understood!!! She got what i am trying to impart. She knows who her Saviour is. She understands!! She heard me and told me that she understood and knew.

The relief and joy that followed thereafter was indescribable. Kept playing that moment again and again as if to convince myself that my mind isn't playing a trick on me. Wondered if i had imagined it all as is usually the case when one expects something to happen, their minds play games on them but this time i am sure. I saw her lips moved. They moved and uttered those words. Praise the Lord. Thank you. It could have been you speaking through her to comfort me. I got it. 

And then i pondered over the issue of life and death. Ministering to those who are "near" is really the whole point of living. This particular act is the very reason for all that daily rituals. Come to think of it, it is the most important thing that can be done on earth as soon as we are born: To ensure that we know THE TRUTH which determines where we will be eternally.

Whatever that happens after this will be regarded as a celebration of her life. It is a celebration. She has lived a good life. Even if she hasn't, knowing who she belongs to IS that celebration.

Ah Mah during Sarah's Full Moon

This post is dedicated to my ah mah whom i loved pretty intensely, way..... back when i was just a toddler. I recalled that incident when i imagined the day when she is no longer around and could not find the comfort everywhere i look. i am unable to handle that loss. It bothered me immensely. There is just no way that i could allow that to happen. This was an unspoken sadness that grew with me all those years before i found Christ. I couldn't understand why humans are not made to last. How could anyone deal with such a loss? And this was coming from a 5-year-old me.

I obviously found the antidote to that inexplicable sadness when i found Christ. Humans are made to last afterall and this is how it ought to be. How can anyone bear to part with their loved ones for eternity? No way. Too high a degree of pain. Eternal existence is the only way to go if love is to prevail. I am so glad that this is how it will be.

As of now, she is sustained through the feeding tube. We are not sure how long this will last. All that burst of energy, the cognisance and the wit just 2 weeks ago are not contenders of organ disintegration.

The next post will be the unveiling of all those great times spent with her. I will walk down memory lane tomorrow and delve into deep reminisce of how she has played a role in shaping my earliest childhood. Early childhood memories are extremely powerful. The people who were there for you 24 hours a day 7 days a week during the early childhood times ARE the ones who will eventually shape your character and be the "home source" of everything you decide. They create a place where your heart goes to in order to find that familiar cosy corner where thoughts and actions are manufactured.