I have a mom who read me stories

Mother’s Day came and went. I rang mom to wish her “Happy Mother’s Day”…she was happy that I rang, happy that I remembered. I hadn’t organised any presents although on her birthday, which was just a few days ago, I organised some chocolates and cake online for arrival on her birthday.

Mom loves cakes, in fact, she loves anything sweet. When she gets angry, she often takes out her biscuit tins or chocolate bars, if any, and munches. It must be for the sugar rush, and the high it provides.

Mom spent a lot of time on the call telling me what the domestic helper is doing wrong. For Mom, I am the boxer’s punch bag…I listen to her as she vents her frustrations.

There is much to say about Mom’s threshold levels – she has a very high tresh hold, for pain and suffering, and hard work. I hope I can develop such high tresh holds.

On this particular Mother’s Day, I am reminded of one of Mom's golden rules, one which I use on Princess as well. Never default on the time you should get home from school.

I remember once, after Chinese school, I was playing in the rain, oblivious to the rule that I was to head home right after school. Some friends of mine were playing in the courtyard, and I lingered to watch, then got tempted to stay, a bit longer. Then I got attracted to the game they were playing in the school courtyard, so I too stayed, to participate in the game. It was nearly dusk, and the sky was turning somewhat grey and dull. There was a surreal feeling to the school yard, all empty except for a bunch of school kids having a good time. I forgot the golden rule.

Mom came looking for me. I froze the minute I saw her. It was almost like death had come to visit. I knew for sure I would get a good walloping when I got home. No words were spoken as I trailed behind her on our way home. Me the errant sheep returned to the fold. My skin burned with shame, as I trudge behind her, in hurried steps. I could see fury written all over her face. I learnt my lesson that day.

I remember this incident because this is one of mom’s many golden rules that Princess has taken to heart. If there are changes to the time she needs to get home, she has to inform me, where ever she may be. I love this golden rule.

Once, I broke a set of tea cups when my skipping rope dragged an entire tray of cups onto the floor. My friends and I were livid with fear, watching the family cups crash into tiny pieces. My great grandmother was furious and cursing us in a language not suited for kids. I thought I would die from a good hiding. But mom didn’t even seem that bothered. She told me to pick up the pieces. No fuss over the shattered cups. I think the cups were not important for her. She knew how to distinguish between what is really important, and what is not. Breaking tea cups was a small matter in her scheme of things. Not keeping time was a major sin.

I have a mom who loves a good yarn. How many nights have I spent listening eagerly to her interpreting for us, her readings from a Chinese newspaper serial of the story of a mute and how unwanted and unloved he was. How many nights have I wished I was the maiden traipsing across the bridge of birds as she went to meet her love, the cowherd. How many nights have I wondered about how lucky I was to be born in an era where girls were allowed education, not like the Butterfly Lovers (Liang San Bao, Zhu Ying Tai) where the heroin had to disguise herself as a man to get an education. How many times have I heard stories of the bizarre, of a maiden whose tummy grew full of scorpions due to evil magic, of crickets who grew so large, they terrorised me in my dreams.
(image:sourced from ebeijing.gov.cn)

If there is one thing I grew up with, it is mom’s love for romance, adventures, tragedies, or tales of sword and sorcery found in novels and movies. Once I woke up at 3am in our apartment, then in Singapore, to see the lights on in her room (her sister was visiting as well). I turned the knob of the door to see a sea of tissues on the floor, and two red-eye women, sniffling their hearts out to a tragic Cantonese serial! They burst out laughing when they saw me. I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or despair!

Here’s a poem I love that depicts in part my mom’s love for adventures and her love for newspaper serials and wuxia (sword and sorcery) serials. Thanks mom for all the stories you gave me as a child. Happy Mother’s Day!


The Reading Mom

I had a Mother who read to me
Saga of pirates who scoured the sea,
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath.

I had a mother who read to me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings-
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such!

I had a Mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be-
I had a Mother who read to me.

I had a mother who read me tales
Of Gelert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

By Gillian, Strickland, "The Reading Mother."

Mother's Day -- No gifts but a thank you!

You can't miss Mother's Day these days. The commercials in the media start at least a month before. How many pieces of jewellery can one buy for her/his mother? I don't believe in going out to a restaurant on Mother's day either -- it is a sheer ripoff. Countless other families are out there, buying their moms massive meals. The service is often bad and the food sub-standard even at the best restaurants.

So, I stopped fussing about Mother's Day. I have long decided a phone call per week to mom will be my routine until she dies. Mom frets when I don't call after a week. She has "hunted" me down, via friends whose phone numbers she sas.

I stopped worrying about what mom thinks. That is not to say I don't care about her. I do. How can I not when her lessons make me who I am or who I am not. We have our share of tensions but mostly we are best frieds, and we share many hours of gripe, fun and laugher over the phone.

** Mom is a stauch believer in "Never eat beef". Bah? What nonsense is my rationale. Her belief stems from an old Taiost/Buddhist/folklorish devotees' vow not to eat beef as the Goddess Kuan Yin's (Goddess of Compassion) father was supposedly reincarnated as a cow. Hence out of respect to this beautiful goddess, the vow of not eating beef. I don't normally cook beef at home simply because my cooking repertoire comes from mom, and beef wasn't ever in her menu. But my logic is if you can eat pork or chicken, then you can eat beef...So the same rationale goes down the drain too for those who don't eat pork. Sigh.

** Mom, the extreme lover of clothes. For me, clothes are necessities. How many pieces of clothing does one need? Mom needs many. Mom does not stop buying clothes. She sends us boxes of clothes. They sit in the closet, unused for years. I have basics and a few pieces that I am attached to. Once in a blue moon, I set out to Farmers or Stax to get something nice. Not often. Just once in a while. I love whites, and clean cut clothes. Mom loves "drama" in her clothes. Beads, ornaments, embroidery. She can never get enough of them. Here we are poles apart. Like cheese and chalk. She used to make me 15 dresses/outfits; one for everyday of the 15 days of Chinese New Year.

** Mom is a consumate cook/entertainer. Mom cooks in gargantuan proportions. She doesn't just cook. She caters, always. Our family meals are never simple. On festive occassions, cooking starts a week before with grocery shopping. Preparation time can be counted in eons. Cooking time, unbelievably long. I love entertaining too...but I am a lazy cook, and I love simplicity. So when I cook, I cook only what I can manage. But my friends tell me I overcook -- so I carry my mom's genes, afterall.

** Mom can take hard knocks in life. Mom married my dad, as a second choice. Her first love was someone from her childhood. Her father, in his mypia, forbid the courtship. Then dad came along. I would say mom has carried lots of burden -- the burden of first love lost, the burden of raising us, the burden of always having to make ends meet, the burden of always having something to worry about, the burden of ensuring all the traditions are kept, and all looks nice on the surface. She should be learning ballroom dancing, going singing with her friends and going to Chi Qong classes. Instead she is earthbound -- by my brother's 2 young children. She brings a cook meal to my niece everyday during morning tea time! Her agelines grow. Her sleep is always short. She hasn't been truly given a chance to relax. She deserves a bloody good rest!

** Mom is a Keeper of Oaths. Mom is never a tale tatter. This was her biggest and most valuable lesson to me. "Never carry a tale, especially when it causes hurt," she always says. I thank mom for that. Very often, I think about this and cherish the lesson.

** Mom the ever loyal friend. Mom is born in the year of the Pig. One of her characteristics is loyalty. She doesn't ever turn on a fried, never. Once, her friend "ran" off with a couple of thousands of dollars in a scheme of "ton-tine" (A self-regulated investment scheme commonly used by Chinese women to raise money.) Her friend couldn't repay the money owed to the scheme. In all her kindness and magnanimity, mom allowed her friend to repay back the money over a period of time -- it took all of 15 years or more....How generous is that?

** Mom the story-teller and muse. Mom loves to sing, loves Chinese opera and Korean drama. She loves story telling. When we were kids, we used to perch around her, listening to stories she read from Chinese newspapers -- following tales of romance, tragedy, horror and the grotesque through her voice. She was a consumate story teller....My favourite was and still is Butterfly Lovers, a story of star-crossed lovers who found a kind of redemption in the end. Tragic but breathtaking in its beauty and pathos.

So as we celebrate Mothers Day, I remember mom's lessons to me. "We should always remember there will always be living better than us, don't make comparisons that would cause you unhappiness." So her lesson is contentment.

"We should always keep a secret told to us in confidence." Here is a lesson in privacy and loyalty.

"We should always give the best portion of food to others." Her generosityt puts me to shame.

So, here's to all our mothers who make us who and what we have become. No wonder the Buddhists reserve the highest dedications to all mothers and mother sentient beings. Happy Mothers Day mom!