Looking For The Christmas Spirit

Looking For The Christmas Spirit

 

This is by far the hardest Christmas for me.  It is my first Christmas without Dad. 

 

Every year, the extended family would gather at my home on Christmas Eve where I would fill it with a beautiful tree, buntings, lights, candles, and all manner of Christmas decoration that was extensive enough to start my own trim shop.  Conversations peppered with laughter would surround the dinner table laid out with a huge spread of roast Turkey, a baked ham, rosemary-roasted baby potatoes, brussel sprouts, parsnips and home-made cranberry sauce lovingly cooked by David and our housekeeper, Evelyn.

 

This year, I could not even bring myself to go tree-hunting with the family, like I usually would.  The decorations at the trim shops out there were more confusing than mesmerizing.  I could not step into the grocery store to shop for ingredients for our Christmas Eve dinner. I forgot to make time to take my Mum Christmas shopping like I did every year.   I just could not feel the Christmas spirit in me.

 

Managing The Grief

 

 

I know this was part of the grieving process but I did not think Christmas would ever be the same again.  Christmas was about family.  How was this season about family when an important member of my family had been cruelly plucked from my life?

 

I recognized that the grieving process did take time and it would never get easier.  At this time of the year, it actually got even worse.  However, I tried to be gentle to myself and gave myself permission to take some time out of the preparations for the Christmas Eve dinner.  I allowed David, Evelyn and Mom to take over the kitchen this Christmas Eve.  I still would not allow a tree in the house.  If Dad could not be here to gawk happily at my Christmas tree like he had done so every year, then, why have a tree right?

 

The Christmas Spirit Came Looking For Me

 

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I knew my emotions would be diving through a tsunami, threatening to drown me under my efforts to strike a balance between a turbulent wave of grief and my façade of focused determination as I threw myself into long work days.  However Christmas kept catching up with me.

 

Our company sponsored the Christmas Wonderland at Gardens by the Bay.  That meant I could not avoid the endless rounds of Christmas parties organized at the Spiegeltent, the countless selfies and wefies taken with the luminaire lights and festive displays plastered across social media and worst of all, I had to think of fun contests and campaigns to promote the Christmas Wonderland. As much as I thought that I had to do it all with emotional detachment, the truth was that, I rather enjoyed working with my team on the project. It made my heart swell with pride when I watched them working very hard on the sponsorship activation plans, yet genuinely enjoying every minute of it.  I did not realize this till I looked back at the photos we took of ourselves riding the carousel, and clowning about around the gardens as a team.  I really did enjoy these moments with them. 

 

Christmas was not very far from me after all.

 

I looked forward to weekends, when David was busy with his sports photography assignments.  This provided me with some “Me-time” to wallow in grief at some coffee shop somewhere where I could salve the pain with a huge slice of cake.  However, I would come across a pop-up store or a festive push-cart nearby selling a shiny bracelet, or a pretty trinket that immediately called out one of my staff’s name.  So that was how I did my Christmas shopping for the girls at work. 

 

Christmas was not very far from me after all.

 

In the midst of this depression, Joel embarked on his new life in the army.  The start of his 2-year stint at national service meant that I could only see him on certain weekends.  I thought that was a good opportunity to avoid the pesky questions from Joel about my state of mind and I really did not want to pull him down with my depression particularly when he was embracing army life with such enthusiasm.  However, as fate would have it, he came home most weekends, and accompanied me to Church every Sunday morning, where we would have breakfast at the Church canteen after mass.  The boy brought me sunshine  as he joked about his experiences with his platoon mates, the friends he made, the drills, the exercises and the food at the army camp. He admitted to me that through it all, the hardest thing for him was to balance his time between his army mates, his girlfriend and I.  I was grateful for time spent with him, and even more grateful for the light he had brought back to me when I was feeling down.

 

Christmas was not very far from me after all.

 

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to take Mum shopping finally as Joel had to get back to camp and David had to trawl across the grocery stores for ingredients he had not yet bought to prepare for the Christmas Eve dinner. Mum and I traipsed down the entire Orchard Road zipping in and out of malls, looking for colorful clothes that were worthy of the season, trying them on at fitting rooms fit for 2 people so that we could both laugh out loud  at each other when we happened to try on a dress or blouse that looked like we had just put on a tea cozy or a granny’s table cloth.  We ended our day by having dinner with my brother Jerome and my sister-in-law Ely.  As I glanced around the dinner table at the family, I truly felt blessed.  I was surrounded by the people who mattered most. I spent the day with the people I loved and who meant the world to me.

 

Christmas was not very far from me after all.

 

Late last night, I went to the refrigerator to get myself a drink when I saw that it was stocked from top to bottom with brussel sprouts, parnips, cranberries, carrots, fresh herbs,  jars of different kinds of sauces, marinades and tapenades, Prosecco, and wine.  The freezer had a large bird waiting to be the main attraction at Christmas Eve.  The kitchen counter top was like a merchandising display corner of a Crate and Barrel store. Carving knives, roasting trays, roasting racks, pie dishes were lined up neatly in a row.  I realized I had nothing to worry about because I spent weeks fretting about whether or not I should call in the caterers.  I had already pre-arranged plans at the gym with my personal trainer followed by a cup of tea with some friends down town on Christmas Eve.  I was planning to just show up at my own Christmas Eve dinner party.  I felt very proud that David and Evelyn had stepped up to take care of the Christmas Eve dinner.  I knew I could count on them to whip up the perfect Christmas Eve dinner.  Actually, there was nothing new to this.  Every year, they did it anyway.  I was always pretty useless in the kitchen. I was better at opening wine bottles and popping the champagne cork.  Each year, as they both prepared for the annual Christmas Eve dinner, I was like the “a spare foreskin at a Bar Mitzvah” as David would describe me.  So, I was really glad that I had a good reason to stay out of the kitchen and left them to be in charge of all that Christmas fare.

 

Christmas was not very far from me after all.

 

 

Celebrating Christmas With Dad Anyway

 

This morning, it suddenly dawned on me that the only reason Dad loved coming to my Christmas Eve dinner party every year, gawked at my pretty Christmas tree, and drank way too much red wine, was because he enjoyed being surrounded by family.  Family meant the world to Dad, the way it did to me.  This Christmas spirit, was not about presents, tree, turkey and champagne.  It was about family. 

 

I knew that if the family is with me, whether at my Christmas Eve dinner party, or at a scrumptious Laksa lunch cooked by Mum on the occasional Sunday or at the malls along Orchard Road, or at the Christmas Wonderland at Gardens By the Bay, my Dad would be with us.

 

The Christmas Spirit is the Spirit of the Family, an unbreakable bond, and a circle of love.

 

About The Writer

The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Boxing and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.  

 

 

Unconditional Love

In Good Times And In Bad

Today,  I learnt an important lesson about Unconditional Love from a little love-note Dad had written to Mom as a birthday gift for her this morning, with his fragile, stroke-strickened hand.  That note was scrawled with crooked letters that was barely legible but it was well-strung together to create such a meaningful impact that almost brought tears to my eyes.

This was what the note said - "Elaine, Happy Birthday.  Thank you for the unconditional love and care you've given me.  Bock Chuan"  Such a simple note, but it carried a lifetime of joy, sorrow, laughter, tears, pain and gratification.  This note underscored my parents' lifelong commitment to their marital vows to stick by each other in good times and in bad, for richer and for poorer, till death do they part.

A Commitment

Decades ago, when Dad was incarcerated for months, for "alternative"political views by the establishment, Mum spent those months in a daze, lost in the dark woods of despair, not having Dad beside her to  assure her that everything was going to be okay.  It was her will to keep the family together, that led her to march right up to Dad's boss at work to demand that he continued to pay Dad his salary and to keep Dad's job while we waited for his release from incarceration.   I thought Mum was bold then, but really, she was driven by her love and commitment for Dad.

Today, Mum cares for Dad as his mobility had been affected by what they called, a "silent" stroke.  Naturally, Dad's health deteriorated with age and  because of his condition.  Mum showers, changes and feeds him everyday.  She talks to him and urges him to walk, or rather shuffle, a little, just to get him to be active.  Undaunted by the heavy wheelchair, handicap-unfriendly public transport, staircases everywhere, the blazing sun or a heavy downpour, she made it a point to take him out regularly so that he could still enjoy the great outdoors, meet people, and eat his favourite foods at his favourite restaurants.

Dad's mind is still lucid although a little slow, and sometimes he might look a little dazed and confused because he needed more time to process information that he sees or hears.  However, it must be true love, that rendered it needless to process this.  Their housekeeper, Marites, on learning that my Aunt Shirley was returning to Singapore for a visit from Seattle, asked Dad what Aunt Shirley looked like.  Marites had never met Aunt Shirley and was curious to know if Mum and Aunt Shirley looked alike, as  sisters should.  So Marites asked Dad who was prettier, Aunt Shirley or my Mum.  Dad immediately retorted that Mum was prettiest!  Mum laughed so hard and one could see her face lighting up like a school girl having a crush when she heard that.

Guiding My Marriage With The Same Commitment

The commitment between Mum and Dad have truly inspired me to guide my own marriage that way.  I hope David and I will grow old together holding each others hands in good times and in bad, for richer or for poorer the way Mum and Dad did.  In fact, I don't hope, I know I will because David said the other day to me, " I don't always like being married, but I love being married to you."

About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 44 years old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 20 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when loosely translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".

Dad and Mum on their wedding day on 27 Dec 1968...hmm...interesting..it doesn't add up...I was born on 1 Aug 1969!

Can't remember when this was taken, but clearly Dad was looking like "Da Boss!"

Dad and Mum at Gardens By The Bay when it first opened in 2012. Mum looked like "Da-Boss" now!

Dad and I enjoying a bit of father-daughter banter on 13 August 2013 after celebrating Mum's birthday with a scrumptious dinner

Dad's love-note to Mum, scribbled with his fragile hands that can't even feed himself with ease.
Now, that's  unconditional love.

Enjoying A Very Long Weekend

Vacations Are A Waste Of Time

I am a nightmare to my team at work on my days off.  I usually spend my vacation time feverishly responding to emails on my Blackberry,  sending them on  panic-stricken wild goose chase around the office in their bid to respond to my decisions made remotely while on vacation.

If you thought I was a nightmare to my team at work on my days off, you should have a chat with my family who would usually revolve their time and schedule around my vacation time so that they could get some conversation time with me.  Usually by the end of that vacation, the husband might be looking for a butter knife in an attempt to slit his wrist, or the boy might decide to elope with a local girl.  All these just because I kicked up a fuss about the Angkor Wat not having any WiFi, or perhaps the nearest Starbucks in Siem Reap was an ocean away back in Singapore.

My vacation time was never fun, I never felt relaxed and I felt that there was more stress while on vacation than when I was at the office.  Having a day off was definitely frivolous and decadent to me.  I saw it as a complete waste of time when I could do so much more with my time.

My Stressful Moments

However, in the last few months, as I was thrown into a neck-breaking schedule of balancing the management of a huge project at work with my Tarot coaching and reading appointments,  there were so many stressful matters on the family front that had been simmering under the surface within my environment.  

Joel had a "meltdown moment" with his nursing course.  While he loved the hands-on practical side of nursing during his industrial attachment at the hospital, he disliked the academic aspects of studying for the examinations.  It did not help that one of his course mates had decided to quit the course halfway to pursue other interests.  I could see despondency and confusion setting in his mind.  Clearly my boy needed me.

My grandmother had a fall 2 weeks ago in the bathroom and broke her wrist.  The accident affected her ability to walk and because she needed physiotherapy, she was warded in the hospital for 2 weeks, with her arm in a sling.  Granny is a spritely old lady with a mind and a spirit of a 25 year old.  Most of her misery at the hospital was due to the fact that she did not have many people to talk to and worse, she could not play mahjong.  This was compounded with the fact that half the family were residing overseas hence leaving Granny with only a few people who could care for her.   Clearly, my granny needed me.

During those 2 weeks when Granny was in the hospital, my Mum did the grand tour of hospitals in Singapore because Dad was also checked into one to get his Glaucoma fixed and he had to have medical check-ups before and after that surgery.  Dad and Mum clearly needed me.

Then there was David.  This hubby extraordinaire  had been standing by as my pillar of support.  He fetched and sent me to the hospital to visit Granny,  accompanied me to visit Mum and Dad, counselled Joel during that meltdown, and throughout all that, I forgot that he needed me too.  David usually took on work stress in his quiet and stoic way.  I was the more verbose of the pair and would be talking at length about how stressful work was or how upset I was about Granny's fall or Dad's surgery or Joel's meltdown.  In the Tarot world, I called David my King of Cups (more on the King of Cups can be found on the post dated 12 Aug. 2013 at www.facebook.com/SunGoddessTarot), always calm, composed and nurturing.  I was on the other hand always high-strung and perpetually dramatic about everything happening around me.  

So I had decided that vacation time was not about toting the camera to climb Mt Kinabalu or slathering on the sunblock whilst sipping on a glass of pina colada by the pool.  My vacation time was quality time with the family just doing nothing but enjoying the moment with them.

Much To Be Thankful For

Incidentally, Singapore celebrated its 48th National Day last week  with a long weekend that coincided with another public holiday when my Muslim friends celebrated Eid al-fitr ( http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Fitr ).  I love long weekends because it meant I had more time to blog, walk the dogs, sleep in, and wake up to a scrumptious brunch.  However, this National Day celebrations got me thinking about how much I was thankful for.  We were in a stable and prosperous country, with an eclectic mix of races that provided me with friends from all walks of life and my family was safe and happy.

So I had decided to make the long weekend even longer, by taking another 2 days off work to enjoy some time with the family.  It was timely also because I wanted to make time to celebrate Mum's birthday with a day dedicated to pampering her.

My Very Long Weekend

So my very long weekend was spent:

1) reminiscing with Granny while visiting her at the hospital, about that silly time when she had decided to purchase a scooter to relive her youth.  I remembered she fell off that scooter while riding it and ended up with a fracture too;

2) gallivanting around town with Joel to find accessories for his newly constructed terrarium.  I cannot understand his sudden love for plants.  I might have rubbed it off on him;

3) tending to wee pots of Lavendar, Strawberry, Caribbean Chilli Pepper and Coffee together with Joel.  As a birthday present, Joel got me some dirt...yes, dirt, and some seeds so that I could cultivate my green fingers on my days off;

4) watching Dad's favourite programme, Ellen together with Dad.  I cannot understand Dad's obsession with Ellen DeGeneres, but he loved her humour and it thrilled me to see Dad laughing heartily while watching her antics on her talk-show;

5) flying kite with David at the Marina Barrage.  Let me rephrase that.  David would be struggling with getting the kite up while I held on tightly to the dogs for fear that one of the wee dogs might get entangled onto a neighbouring kite-flyer's  kite-string and fly away into the sunset;

6)  having dinner and drinks with our BFFs because one of them was celebrating her first National Day as a new Singaporean. Ok, being originally Malaysian and always claiming that our Singapore national dishes were actually Malaysian, she was too embarrassed to have her Singaporean status made too publicly known, so I would spare her by not mentioning her name here;

7)  spending the day with Mum, taking her out for a shopping spree, enjoying a scrumptious lunch with her, introducing her to the world of cafe au lait, cafe lungo, cafe piccolo and cafe latte and just having a nice mother-daughter talk about the trials and tribulations of being a mother.

Enjoying My Days Off

My days off spent most simply are always the best.  No expensive shopping trips and exotic beaches could replace the time spent with the family.  Because I had sufficient time to catch up with my family and enjoy every moment I had with them in the last week, I am now more ready than ever to go back to work very much recharged, re-energized and well-rested.

"There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want. " ~Bill Watterson,   Calvin and Hobbes

About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 44 years old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 20 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when loosely translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".

David and I enjoying a picnic with the mutts.  Spot that kite all tightly rolled up waiting to be flown?

I Love My Imperfect Family

Mum Brought The Party To Us Through Food

In the last 2 weeks, as we celebrated Lunar New Year as a family, I had given much thought to what family is about.  With just my weekly visits, I don’t see Mum and Dad often enough, though David begs to differ unless something delicious is brewing on Mum’s stove.  What he sees as lunch, I saw as love.

Mum and Dad know that I am never far away.  I often dig out the treasures of past childhood memories from within my heart as a means to help me ride the rough of adulthood.  In the Tarot language, we call this the “6 of Cups” moment.  In the marketing language, I call it “Mum’s Exquisite Culinary Delights Prepared With Love” ( I have to be 'marketing-savvy' about how I term this with Mum so that she'll do more of it).

Over the last 2 weeks, we had been bonding over Mum’s home-cooked lunches.  We have been eating our way to a comatose state whilst catching up with the extended family on everything from babies, to weddings, to work, right down to the recent hot topic about facing an over-crowded Singapore.

The more we had to eat, the livelier the discussions were, across the dining table.  It’s not just merely food.  It’s Mum’s cooking.  There’s a magic dust she sprinkles over her cooking that creates all the animated chatter and the loud laughter.

We Brought The Party To Dad With The Feasting

Even Dad had a lot of fun.  Ever since Dad’s health deteriorated over the years, given that he had suffered a “silent” stroke, Mum tried to bring any form of celebrations at home so that he could enjoy them without having to move about too much. He definitely enjoyed the array of dishes Mum cooked to celebrate the Lunar New Year.  He didn’t even mind tottering gingerly across the kitchen for half an hour to take his place at the kitchen table so that Mum could serve him some of his favorite dishes.  It was the only exercise he did for that month I think…tottering across the kitchen.

Although Dad just sat there in his favorite chair  most of the time to enjoy the family around him, and he didn’t talk much because his speech was a wee bit slower than usual, his mind is still lucid as ever.   From time to time, he would interject about a topic closest to his heart – his dislike for “The Establishment”.  For me, that was wonderful to see because it’s a sign of his unwavering fighting spirit within him.  Also, while I noticed that he might be physically slower and got quite tired often, I saw him reach out a hand to grab my nephew, pulling him closer so that he could play with the little boy.  I thought that was amazing for someone who took half an hour just to shuffle across a tiny kitchen.

When Dad couldn’t peel a fruit with his weak hands yesterday, I happily did it for him and remembered how he did the same for me when I was very young and didn’t know how to fiddle with a rambutan.   Knowing that Dad has an appetite for junk food, I watched  him look intently in anticipation at me as I removed the wrapper around a chocolate for him.  I did the same when I was very young as he opened a box of chocolates for me.  Dad had fond memories of our family dog Blooie when I was a child.  Blooie was a white toy poodle given to me as a birthday gift.  He died long ago in a road accident and that was the first time I saw my stoic father cry.  My current family dog Bailey, bears a close resemblance to Blooie.  It was heartwarming for me to see Dad laughing at Bailey and annoying the daylights out of the poor mutt who patiently allowed Dad to prod him, blow in his ear and pull his tail.   

I Love My Family

I love my family.  We aren’t perfect.  Half the extended family’s either living abroad or about to live abroad.  My immediate family looks like ambassadors for the United Nations Council For Cultural Diversity given our different last names and different nationalities.  Dad’s not in perfect health, Mum’s sometimes not in the perfect mood, David’s not a perfect shape, but hell, sometimes I am not in perfect mind!  It really doesn’t matter.  All the more I love my rather imperfect family.   However we bitch at each other, no matter how much we get on each other’s nerves and however little doses we can take of each other, at least once a year, particularly every Lunar New Year, Christmas and Easter, I would remember why I love my imperfect family.  In every way, they are perfect to me.

I can’t wait for Easter now.


About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 43 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketeer at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".

Dad and Mum visited the newly opened Gardens By The Bay recently.  Thanks to my cousin, they enjoyed the visit very much and it gave Dad a wonderful tan.

Dad's so happy when Bailey visits.  Bailey reminds him of Blooie, a white toy poodle Dad had given me as a birthday gift when I was a kid. Dad truly loved Blooie like a son.  Today he loves Bailey like a grandson.

Sighhhh....why can't I have a normal family.  The boy uses Bailey as a cushion from time to time.

Don't underestimate Dad...he's lucid enough to remember the past

My United Nations Family - We look like Ambassadors for Cultural Diversity.

Mum is attempting to clown about with fashion glasses.