This time around, the Dark Angel’s grim visits began with my Aunt Helene at the end of February.
Perhaps the suddenness of her passing was just too much to bear, but early in July, Helene was joined by her brother, and one of my favourite uncles, Pak Hing, who suffered a serious and ultimately fatal heart attack one afternoon.
Pak Hing was a teacher who, like me, was the 7th in his family - I called him 7 Sook (7th Uncle on my father’s side). Perhaps it was that similar seniority (or in my case, lack thereof) in the family that meant I felt a particular affinity for the man. More likely it was that we shared a devilish and childish sense of humour.
L-R: Pak Hing, Henry (Helene's husband), cousins Carol and Margie Rozario, Helene.
I recall having a wonderful time one school holidays when I stayed over at Uncle Pak Hing’s for a few days. One night we went out looking for durians and he bought a whole basket of over-ripe ones - to make jam. My cousins and I then began tearing gooey durian flesh off the seeds, helping to make durian jam. At breakfast the next morning, there I was spreading a thin layer of jam on my slice of bread when 7 Sook leaned over and said in that arresting yet friendly voice I shall never forget, 'Where got enough? Must be at least half an inch think lah'. So I slapped on more durian jam, and you know what? He was right - it had to be at least half an inch thick.
My few days over, he took me home in the Mini he had at the time. I recall Aunty Nellie was in the front passenger seat and I was in the back with one or two of my cousins. As we tootled along the main road coming down from Overseas Union Garden, 7 Sook spied a lady waiting by the roadside and without missing a beat, he swung the Mini closer, tooted the horn at her, then stepped on the accelerator and zoomed guiltily away. Aunty Nellie turned to me with a long-suffering expression on her face and said 'You see your Uncle?' and 7 Sook turned back and just grinned cheekily.
I've never forgotten that grin. And the many more times he flashed that playful smile over the next 30+ years. His childlike innocence and playfulness was, in many ways a reminder of my own father who could do the most hilarious things sometimes. And also, as I said, perhaps a little of me.
RIP Cheong Pak Hing. Your warmth, kindness and just plain fun-ness was an inspiration to us.
After her mother, Aunt Helene, passed away, my cousin Pauline continued her battle with kidney failure and diabetes. She’d battled bravely and gamely but in the end, it seemed the worries and difficulties of this world were simply too much.
Her passing was a shock - she had seemed to be getting back on her feet after a round of bacterial infection. Looking back on it now, I realise that Pauline, like many others at death’s door, had simply thrown us a dummy - the little perkiness and extra vigour she showed while recovering in hospital were simply her last feint before the knockout punch and blessed sleep.
She will be missed not just for her strength in the face of adversity but also for her weakness - she readily admitted sometimes that things were tough and that she could be better. That honesty and her ability to always pick herself up the next day, regardless, are qualities that have touched me.
Pauline with very dear relation Beth Rozario
RIP Pauline Lin Wen Ling. Your strength, and fragility, are a reminder of the very best values in a person.
In the last few months, much has occupied my thoughts. The Gordian Knot of ideas, thoughts, emotions, words has taken awhile to untangle. If I only had a sword to slash through the mess - alas, I’ve had to patiently sift through the tangle and I think, now, I am finally making some sense of things again. Expect more soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment