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.