Ashes

My father in law has been gone for a year. I thought it would be nice to share what my husband wrote in his memorial book, a tribute to a man whom he considers as his hero.

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As I stood waiting with Shanthan and the rest of my family members to collect Appa’s ashes the next day we had cremated him, memories of my last conversation with him came flooding my mind against my will.

At 12.20pm on Thursday, I received a call from the nurses’ station in HDU informing me that they were going to transfer Appa to ICU. I rushed in with Uncle Visvan and when I saw Appa, my heart sank. He didn’t look good at all. I asked him how he was feeling and he shook his head.  I turned to ask the nurses some questions and I saw Uncle Visvan stroking his hair. I glanced at the monitor and his vital signs looked below normal. I asked him again, ‘Appa, how are you feeling?’ to which he replied softly while looking at me directly ‘I don’t feel good at all’. Seconds later, his face turned red, he let out a loud yawn and passed out.

I froze as though my blood chilled me from the inside and I remember thinking that my Appa is gone. I just stood there for a moment unable to react or even help him and was feeling absolutely useless. The doctors and nurses rushed to him and immediately gave him a cardiac massage. Uncle Visvan pulled me aside and I remembered a staff nurse telling me to call the rest of the family members who were waiting at the lounge to go to the meeting room so the doctor could speak to them.

I walked to them in trance and told them where to wait. In the background, I could hear Shamala and Amma crying while in my head I kept pleading, ‘Appa, please don’t go, not yet’. Minutes later, which felt like the longest moment of my life, the nurse called me back to the room and the doctors explained that Appa was intubated and had to be rushed to the ICU. I looked over at Appa, his eyes were closed and I thought again, ‘Will I ever speak to him again? I need to tell him that I love him or at least something more.

My feelings were on a roller coaster ride for the next 24 hours. The family support was in full force. Although I was talking to them and responding to the thousands of messages and phone calls, the last look Appa gave me kept playing in my mind over and over again. I went home to take a quick shower and when I looked at my child, I felt a profound sadness that Appa would not be able to spend more time with her as he did with Shivaran. 

I did say that I loved him at the CCU and always will and promised to take care of Amma and also strive to make him proud. I told him to forgive me for all my wrong doings and I kept on talking to him just to keep the awful memory of how he last looked at me at bay. My heart was breaking into a million pieces. Although I am now a family man myself, I still needed my Appa and I wasn’t prepared to let him go. Appa has done so much for me and one last thing he did was he didn’t make me the  person to inform my family that he was no longer with us and managed to stay on for another day so everyone could say their goodbyes.

The next few days passed by in blur and with so much of sadness. I was so lost. I just went through the motion of doing what was supposed to be done until the day we collected his ashes. I didn’t know how to comfort Amma who took care of dad like no one else could ever do as he was her world and of course he took very good care of her as well.

I insisted on driving. I wanted to drive Appa for one last time. Shanthan held the urn containing what’s left of Appa and I drove the ‘three’ of us towards the seaside to conclude the ceremony. While one hand was at the wheel, I touched the urn with the other. I know Shanthan was far away with his thoughts. Memories of car rides with Appa came to me as well as the tears. I played his favourite song on the radio, the one I remember him drumming his fingers to its tune. Without us knowing, we were approaching towards Klebang and memories of our younger days flashed through  my mind. Then came” Taman Muhibah” the place we lived most of our lives together. Shanthan and I thought we should drive him home for one last time. The car cruised silently into the lane leading to our house and the grim realization hit me. Appa is no longer with us.

At the beach, I saw Shamala breaking down at the sight of the urn and we three huddled around Appa for the last time. The mighty man we call Appa has been reduced to ashes and it broke our hearts to do the rightful thing a Hindu should do, to release ‘him’ into the water. For a while, time stood still, happy memories of my childhood and visions of Appa smiling happily at me sprang to mind. I know he will always be right next to me and nagging me as he usually does.

I can never ask for a better person than Appa. He was everything for me like how he was for Shamala and Shanthan and also his lovely wife. He treated each of his children equally yet differently. He understood I was not book smart like Shanthan and Shamala as he cultivated my strengths in being street smart. He knew I was keen on sports and encouraged me to pursue it instead of pressuring me to be a Profesional. Never once he compared my achievements with my siblings and for that I am eternally grateful as he allowed me to grow into the person I am with his and Amma’s love,support and understanding.

My wish now is to be the kind of Appa he was to me, to my daughter and if I can be a fraction of what he was, I would count myself as successful.

Thank you Appa for loving me and I will always love you.

Your Son,

Suren

 The little memorial corner at our house

From our ancestors come our name, but from our virtues, our honours.

Okay, I picked that title up from the internet but it resonates with my post today. We just concluded my late father in law's 1st year memorial prayers. It was a solemn ceremony attended by family and close friends. Coincidentally, today would have been his late mother's 100th birthday.

Madam Saraswathi Mylvaganam

January 17,1917 - November 7,1957

His mom, the late Madam Saraswathi passed away at the tender age of 40 due to some medical errors. My FIL was 16. His two older brothers a few years older, his younger brother was 10 and his sister, the only girl in the family was merely 2 years old. Her death was a huge blow to the whole family and affected them in different ways. Her husband refused to remarry despite his family’s strong recommendation and chose to be a single parent for the next 26 years. He passed away in 1981. I don't know much about my father in law's older brothers as they were long gone before I married into the family. But I know from the stories and my simple observations that his younger brother became somewhat a rebel in his teens (he is doing great now) and his sister although very much doted upon by her father and brothers turned out to be fiercely independent. As for my FIL, he became the darling boy for every maami in town and was also very close to his mother in law.

From the bits and pieces I gleaned from her children, Saraswathi was a strict but a loving mother. She did not enjoy robust health but was always happy to lend a helping hand whenever she can. As the eldest daughter of 8 siblings (7 daughters and 1 son) she was the filial daughter and the perfect eldest sister everyone looked up to.

In the 1940’s, she and her children left to Sri Lanka to escape the war and to spend some time with her family. During her stay there, she supervised the constructions of some homes of her family members. Alas, although she did the same to the family home in Malaysia, she was not alive to see it complete. The whole family moved into their new house without the lady of the house.

When my FIL’s older brother got married, he apparently told his wife that he would like to name his daughter after his late mother. His wish came true when their second child was a girl. And she was the apple of his eye and my FIL was very close to her. This Saraswathi is fondly known as Sara. She is the personification of all sweet and nice. She married a nice bloke who was born on November 7 (The day Saraswathi passed away in 1957) Definitely an episode of X-files!

Fast forward a few decades later, when my hubby and I found out that we were expecting a baby girl, he mentioned that he wanted to name her ‘Saraswathi’. Okay, to be honest, it is a pretty traditional name but when he said that his father would be happy and I like names being passed down the generations (Mat Salleh wannabe..hehe), I relented on the condition she gets a another name that would sound nice with Saraswathi. We quickly settled on Diya Saraswathi. Diya means ‘Lamp’ and Saraswathi is the Hindu Goddess of Knowledge. Pretty grand name for a kid, eh? So yeap Pebbles is Diya Saraswathi who goes by Diya, Diyasara and Diyalo and sometimes Mangamma Jack :P Needless to say, my FIL was over the moon when he found out and always told everyone (who had functioning ears for the matter) that Diya was named after his mother.

 Sara and Diya

(Saraswathi II and Saraswathi III)

I know naming a child after someone who has been revered for years is a huge burden for a child. I mean what if she turns out to be the total opposite of the strict but loving Great Grandma Saraswathi or even the sweet and lovely Sara maami? Well, as any parents do, we give our children the roots to know where home is and wings to fly off and practice what has been taught to them. That’s what Great Grandma Saraswathi did and what Sara mami is doing with her children so Diya will do just fine.

Saraswathi may be 100 today and may have been gone for over 60 years but her legacy of sound family values lives on in her surviving offspring, her son in law and daughters in law, a host of grandchildren and the cutest great grand-children.

The great Mylvaganam family

Since there are holes on the heaven’s floor, she will be peeking over her loved ones with her husband and three older sons. They must be throwing her a really grand birthday party.

Happy 100^th Birthday, Diya’s Great Grandma. Like your son, Logen said, ‘You have hit a century, amma!,’

Like Seriously!

Pebbles and I were lazing in bed, tickling each other late one morning when hubby stepped out of the shower and left the room to check on his handphone. I yelled out ‘Where are you going, darling?’ knowing very well that his first appointment of the day was only an hour later. Pebbles tugged at my hair and said, ‘Papa is going to work, amma’ and when I asked her ‘How about amma?’ she replied ‘Amma no work’ Those words stung me badly. My 2 year old thinks I don’t go to work because I hardly step out of the house and to think that equates to not working hurt a lot.

I am aware that many mothers face this ‘cruel’ statement from their kids but I can’t believe I would get that so soon. She is only 2 for god’s sake! Needless to say I have been in a very bad mood since the D-day (It’s Day 3 today)

Just the other day, I was discussing with Hubby how we fellow women always put the others down. We are constantly competing with each other instead celebrating the sisterhood of being women! Why I brought this up is because a relative once commented along the lines that being a SAHM makes one lazy. I was like What?!!! Motherhood is a job so a SAHM has a job not to mention an undervalued one and we freaking work 24/7!

I only have one kid and already I am feeling guilty about the house being too messy and I am not doing anything creative for myself but I comfort myself by saying that I am making memories with my kid so I can clean the house later but right now Pebbles wants me to ‘talk’ to me on the phone using a loose tile and a bowling pin ( I know, I should just get the kid a toy handphone) So don’t you dare say that SAHM is lazy. It is pretty obvious that I am in a foul mood.

Look, I have nothing but deep respect for mothers who have everything figured out and have things going on a clockwork but cut us, mothers who are yet to get to the ‘Nirvana’ state of motherhood some slack ya.

As for my kid, It is time to let her know at every possible moment that her Amma works. At home as a freelancer and also as her mother because my darling Pebbles, motherhood is a freaking full time job with almost zero benefits and with tonnes of unwelcome remarks!

*Takes a deep breath and shakes off the negativity*

Image from Google

HAPPY NEW YEAR

It has been almost 4 months since I penned my thoughts and the only word that kept haunting me is the word my dad often uses and often quizzes its meaning on unassuming people; lackadaisical which according to Dictionary.com means 

adjective

1.

without interest, vigor, or determination; listless; lethargic:

a lackadaisical attempt.

2.

lazy; indolent:

a lackadaisical fellow.

That's exactly what I have been for the past 4 months and totally not proud of it. Oh well, I am not going to delve in this sorry state of my life instead I am going to talk about New Year!

Happy New Year, guys! Hope you had a great one. I sure did amidst Pebbles' tantrums. It was nice spending some time with my folks. Made me feel blessed and more grateful that I still have them and I have resolved to be more appreciative of them.

I usually spend some time writing in my diary about the past year and often they are bleak moments. I seriously have to focus on the positive moments! Geez! So I didn't this year and had all the things I want to be this year ingrained in my head which are pretty straight forward; to be present, grateful and healthy. Three key ingredients to lead a happy and fulfilling life.

Seriously, life is not so complicated. It is the brain of ours that keep muddling our thought processes. It is important to stay focused on our goals and we will reach the destination, sooner or later. I am thankful that I have people I look up to emulate and also detractors to keep me on track (of course I feel thankful for them after I murder them in my head :P 

The only thing that is glaring in 2016 is that I have FINALLY started to cook. Yeap, at grand old age of 35. I am beginning to believe that I am a late bloomer :P I have tried some interesting recipes. No fatal victims so it is safe to say it is edible Yippee!! I am beginning to enjoy to cook not to mention how therapeutic it is (I CAN'T BELIEVE I JUST SAID THAT!!!!) Just the other day, had a huge argument with Hubby and instead of sulking in a corner, I cooked a feast which was yummy judging from the empty pots and pans (no leftovers!)

The only time I feel stressed out when cooking is when Pebbles decides to join me in the kitchen. She just loves to live life dangerously, the little teenager of mine. Doesn't help that she turns a deaf ear to me when I yell at her to step away from the stove! Even writing this is making heave!

So yeah, I can cook now, YIPPEE! But then again I stopped Yoga for no apparent reason so that is not cool :( I resolve to learn something new this year so hope to keep you fantastic ardent readers of mine, posted. Ciao!

Be Present