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”.  

 

 

Living My Dream

I love the month of February.  Even in tropical Singapore, I feel the season of Spring in the air. There seems to be that much more laughter, more family gatherings, and more fun dinners with friends.  In fact, these 3 months from December through to February were months of fabulous revelry.  I celebrated the close of an awesome year in December and the start of an even more awesome year in January with Christmas and New Year celebrations.  The good news is that  the celebrations continue  in February, as we celebrate love, family, and friendships with Valentine’s Day and the Chinese New Year.  People have whirlwind romances at this time, I have a whirlwind calendar of never-ending activities ranging from weddings, meet-up with friends, family parties, workshops that I conducted and then some.

 

However, it was more than just the eating, drinking and general merry-making.  These were the months I celebrated my definition of living the dream as the new year opened. 

Dad, looked much healthier than just a year before when he had suffered a stroke just before Christmas.  He managed to enjoy a glass of wine with me at our family Christmas Eve dinner and was happy to just sit there to take in the cacophony of chatter and laughter amongst our family while my 2 year old nephew attempted to put some christmas cake in his glass of wine.

 

Mum had been suffering from a painful shoulder but when we had it checked, we were assured it was just a strained rotator cuff which was quite a common ailment for people her age.  That was a relief for me.  However it also reminded me about the importance of self-care and the need to listen to my body when all that training at the gym plus the late nights of running my consultancy  after working hours, could get all too much for me.  I was reminded of this yet again, when I got sick with the stomach flu recently for almost a week.  I took to catching up on my sleep over a weekend and did absolutely nothing for 2 days just to give my body some rest.  

 

Joel, who had been a pain in the butt for months when he regressed to a stage of teenage rebelliousness at the age of 21, finally saw the light and learnt the meaning of opened communication, honesty and respect within the family. He grew up overnight and became all of 21 years old again when he reconciled with us through a rather public apology for behaving like an ass. All forgiven. 

 

David got finally inspired by my fitness journey to start taking up boxing lessons in December as well as Brazilian Jiu Jitsu classes in February.  That made  training at the gym more fun for the both of us. He has not accidentally sat on anyone's head yet, so all seems good so far.  We not only share our love for the gym, we have been each other’s moral conscience when it comes to choice of food too.  I am looking forward to a  healthier and fitter hubby by the end of this year. 

 

As much joy as these months brought us, we also had our fair share of tears.  Ozzy passed on  a couple of weeks ago and the family was inconsolable.  Ozzy had been David’s favourite fur-friend and a very important member of our family.  Although he was tiny, his loss just left such a huge and irreplaceable void in our hearts.  I believed that the other 2 mutts at home felt the same.  Zak and Bailey looked quite confused for about a week or so.  We are still grieving but we celebrate Ozzy’s life with us, the fun we had together and the unconditional love that he had given us, and with immense gratitude.

 

I think the experiences of these few months can be encapsulated into a single message, urging me to treasure each moment, no matter the circumstance. Living the dream means many things to many people.  To my friends who are professional Mixed Martial Arts fighters, living the dream means the ability to travel the world to fight on a world stage with highly skilled and experienced fighters.  To my friends who are professional Tarot readers, living the dream means quitting their day jobs to focus on a professional career of reading for their clients on a daily basis, teaching the art of Tarot to students, designing and creating their own tarot decks, writing Tarot books and traveling the world to conduct talks and workshops. To a client who was a local head of communications at a big company who got retrenched but was called back by her boss to take on a new role as global head of social media recently, she was living the dream. She packed up her belongings, lock, stock and barrel and made that brave move across the ocean to live in a new country to take up that role.  

 

To me, I am living the dream too and this is how I define mine.  I am finally getting much fitter and healthier through my new found passions of boxing and muay thai.  I am surrounded by an imperfectly perfect family filled with so much love.  I work with a bunch of crazy but fun girls who have been bringing sunshine into the office everyday no matter how difficult our days may be.  I am able to effectively run an intuitive consultancy after my work hours and continue to help numerous clients with my Tarot and Numerology skills. I am still writing and contributing articles whenever I have spare time, not out of the pressure of deadlines but out of my love for sports and MMA. I finally found my balance in life that many of my peers are still searching for.  Am I living the dream or what?

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 Muay Thai 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”.  

 

I Gave Myself Permission To Have A Break

My Month Of Rest

This was supposed to be my month of rest.  Apart from experiencing a meltdown moment over a Christmas tree last week, practicing a few elbow moves while doing Christmas shopping at the mall, and annoying my creative agency by playing creative director again over a very small project,  I actually had a wee bit of rest.

I gave myself a break from writing MMA-related or Tarot related articles.  When I felt compelled to write, I chose to write softer articles that could inspire my readers to make the right health and fitness choices.    

I was also selective about accepting Tarot reading engagements at corporate events. Last year, I was inundated with so many events and teaching workshops  in December that I hardly spent time with the family on weekends.  This year,  I took on less events and was thankful I did, especially when we had a couple of weddings in the family, my granny’s birthday, and a number of Christmas party invitations.  I would not have had the ability to juggle too many commitments.  Even when it came to my boxing training at the gym, I was thankful for a wee bit of rest when my boxing coach spent a couple of weeks traveling and was called up for reservist training.  I had not stop going to the gym, and instead, focused on strength and conditioning which I badly needed.

Bracing For A Busy 2015 

I believed that this period of rest was needed to get me ready for an extremely busy first quarter of 2015.  Apart from all the projects that I had to focus on at work early next year,  we also had several writing and photography assignments lined up which will see us traveling to Bangkok and Jakarta, and I have got plans for doing a week of intensive Muay Thai training in Phuket thereafter.  Moreover, I am planning some exciting lineup of Numerology workshops in partnership with a few creative souls and am quite excited about it.  Just the thought of meandering through these projects coming up in the first quarter of 2015, was enough to overwhelm me but I will cross the bridge when I come to it.

So what did I do during my break?

Focusing On The Family And Me

• I took Mom shopping.  We indulged in a spot of Christmas shopping and an extravagant lunch.  It gave us the opportunity to have a mother-daughter chat about everything under the sun, we took countless nauseating selfies and had a bit of a laugh about everything.   I wanted to be able to spend an entire day with Mom without burying my face in my blackberry to respond to the never-ending flood of emails.

• I participated at a festive pop-up market, the Goddess Marketplace, where I spent the day doing Tarot and Numerology readings for the New Year.  The readings were a hit and  my greatest gratification was the fact that I made new friends in the process.  I wanted to do readings in an environment of like-minded, creative and talented souls who were there to make new friends too, as they created awareness for their craft, and not be pressured by the constraints of time which was often a limitation for me as I rushed from back to back private client readings in person to  skype readings at home on a nightly basis.

• I had not stop writing. Instead, I wrote only what I wanted to write.  I worked on articles that I felt would inspire and add value to others.  So I wrote articles that focused on the fitness and nutritional regimen of people who were professional athletes as well as recreational fitness enthusiasts.  I wanted to write in a way where I would not be pressured by demands and deadlines of  events and egos of people I had to interview for content.

• I went out with a few of my colleagues for a nice afternoon away from the office, just enjoying a cup of tea and a girlie conversation.  Instead of arguing with or moaning to these colleagues about the obstacles we were facing in some of our projects, we decided to just enjoy the moment, take it slow, and make our time with each other count towards building a better collegiate environment when we got back to the office after.

• I attended my cousins’ weddings.  Two of my cousins had decided to get married a few weeks apart from each other.  It gave the family a reason to come together to celebrate these nuptials.  We spent so little time throughout the year catching up with each other because of our busy schedules, yet within a few weeks, we seemed to be seeing more of each other and enjoying conversations with each other as if we had not been apart at all throughout the year.  In fact, we will be seeing each other again soon as Mum will be hosting her pre-Christmas family lunch this Sunday, and I will be hosting the ubiquitous Ash Family Christmas Eve dinner.  

• I focused on myself for once.  Instead of attending every event that I was invited to, or participating in every activity that I was previously lined up for, I picked and chose the ones I wanted to be at.  Some of my Saturday afternoons were spent  just enjoying a long nap.  I guess it was a way my body and mind was hollering for me to give it a rest.  So I did.

I Gave Myself Permission To Have A Break 

I woke up to something during this break.  Often, my friends and family would ask how I could juggle my time between a full time career as a marketing and PR professional, my intuitive consultancy business, my freelance writing assignments, my travels and my kickboxing training. 

Honestly, how busy I wanted to be is all within my control.  I could choose to slow down on my activities if I wanted to.  If I chose to be extremely  busy multi-tasking on so  many projects, that would be because I enjoyed them tremendously.  And at times like these, I would listen to my mind and body to step back and give myself permission to have a break.

I am enjoying my break till the year end, and I am enjoying it tremendously because I do deserve it.

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 Muay Thai 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”.  

Clowning about with the hubby at my cousin's wedding

Clowning about with Mum while out doing Christmas shopping

Clowning about with granny on her birthday

Clowning about with Team Ash at yet another cousin's wedding

Er....Just Clowns....

Our Perfect Christmas Tree

The Year-End Break

I had been on a writing break and was planning to be so till the New Year.  However, I was compelled to write this post after a stressful weekend of Christmas tree-hunting had led to my reassessment of why I took a break to focus on the family and plan for the  year-end festivities.  

Bah Humbug 

The impending year-end merry-making draws a myriad of reaction from my friends.  Most tell me that the year-end festivities would usually bring home the importance of family and the special memories they shared with loved ones during the ubiquitious Christmas dinner.  Some friends would tell me how disillusioned they were about the air of commercialism wafting through the malls at Christmas, with harried parents thronging Toys R’ Us in the hope of buying the latest Lego sets or yet another Princess Elsa doll.  I even have friends who would buy the first flight out of Singapore, just to avoid the rainy season and the annoying throngs of shoppers crowding the malls and jamming the train lines. 


My Magical Christmas Last Year

For me, the year-end festive season is always a celebration of family.  Last year, as Dad was hit with a devastating Stroke  just a week before Christmas, I learnt that the true magic of Christmas for me then was the power of prayers and the heartwarming love and support that surrounded my family and I at that very painful time.  It was magic indeed because in spite of the Doctor’s earlier suggestion that Dad might be spending 2 weeks at the hospital, he actually managed to recover in time to be discharged on Christmas eve.  I had the best Christmas Eve dinner then with Dad and the rest of the family surrounding him.  Amazingly, he even managed a glass of merlot, held in his very frail hand, which he had used to wash his pills down with. 

Reunion At Christmas Eve

This year,  I had been planning a big Christmas Eve dinner for the family.  My annual Christmas Eve dinner was always a gathering of  family members who would come together to enjoy the yuletide feast.  This year, it would be a reunion of sorts because my Aunt and Uncles who had been living overseas, in the US, Canada and Australia, are now back in Singapore to spend Christmas together as a family.  This was a big deal for us.  Moreover, this Christmas would mark one year of slow but steady recovery of my Dad from his Stroke.  He may still be frail but he is mentally still quite alert and looks like he would be enjoying yet another glass or two of merlot at my Christmas Eve dinner.  

A Perfect Christmas

I undertook to personally plan every detail of my Christmas Eve dinner.  Everything had to be perfect including the food, the home, the decoration, and the tree.  That became a problem.  The perfectionist in me was turning this Christmas Eve dinner into a major headache for David and Joel.  David wanted to roast the turkey and cook most of the dinner.  I did not allow this because David’s culinary skills, beyond baking bread and making tea, was not that reliable.  Joel volunteered to gather the Christmas playlist, but I refused to risk suicide attempts at our dinner party with Michael Buble crooning over the speakers.  

Then came the Christmas tree.  A beautiful noble fir was supposed to be the piece-de-resistance of my Christmas party.

The family spent the weekend criss-crossing the island just to look for a noble fir but the trees were sold out at every garden centre.  Not even a pine needle could be found throughout the island.  I went into near “melt-down” at the garden centre, revivable only with a cake and coffee over which David had a chat with me about my need to get a grip on my perfectionist mindset. He was right. Our Christmas Eve dinner need not be perfect. It was going to be wonderfully quirky, much like the Ash family. 


First and foremost, it was a dinner party that celebrated life and resilience. We had imperfect moments when Dad's health caused us immense worry or when Granny could not remember what she ate an hour ago.  However, Dad and Granny, in spite of their frailty, would not let recovery from stroke, or a touch of dementia stop them from celebrating family. They will be there to enjoy dinner with us and possibly more wine than they should. They might frown at  my roast turkey, parsnips, brussel sprouts and potatoes and would possibly prefer  a Chicken curry and stir fried noodles but I know they would be feeling so blessed just to be there, surrounded with family.  I know Dad and Granny would feel even more blessed because it would be their cheat day, like it would be for me, and we are all going to have cake!

Secondly, it was a dinner that celebrated a united nations of cultures and races amongst  family members who come from different countries like Scotland, America and China.  It is not a perfect family. However, this  eclectic mix of cultures and races, in our Singaporean home made for much livelier conversations.

Thirdly, it was a dinner party that celebrated new entrants into the family.  2 of my cousins got married recently so I have gained 2 rather handsome cousins-in-law.  Ok, they are still wet behind the ears and have not been inducted into the family rules that the Eldest cousin is the "quasi-matriarch-empress-dowager" of the family and needs to be placated regularly with cake. They will learn.

Finally, our tree is not perfect.  However, it really is a reflection of us – a quirky family, not too large, but not too small, weird in all sense of the word, but fun, easy-going and welcoming.  

So this is my tree, the Ash family's Christmas tree for 2014.  It is definitely us isn't it?

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 Muay Thai 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”.  

I Believe In The Magic Of Christmas

I do believe in the magic of Christmas after all.  It was nothing short of a miracle that Dad could be discharged just in time to come home for Christmas.  

When he suffered that stroke last Thursday, he looked so frail and he could not lift his left arm and leg.  An MRI later revealed that he had quite a few blockages and the situation could have been disastrous if Mum had not taken him to the hospital in time.  From what the doctors and nurses had been telling us, it looked like he would be hospitalized for at least a week to two weeks, maybe more.   It did not help that from time to time, Dad's frustrations at being 'confined' had made him defiant and not willing to cooperate with the therapist when it came to his rehabilitative exercises.

However, Mum and I were at the hospital daily to comfort him, kept him company and persuaded him to focus on recovery.  I was determined that Dad did not give up,  So I spent that time talking about his days as a politically detainee and searched for photographs of his old friends who were fellow ex-detainees on my iPad so that it could trigger his memory.  I gave the other patients around him names too.  I named them after his old friends just because some of them resembled his old cronies, and that made him laugh a lot. To help bring back strength to his left hand, I persuaded him to "ring the door bell and run away". So, he rang the buzzer to call for the nurse, and when the nurse turned up by his bedside, he said "I don't need anything."  That annoyed the nurses, but both of us had such a good laugh.

Perhaps, the laughter, the old stories, the company, and just knowing that his family loved and supported him, was enough to motivate Dad to recover enough to get discharged earlier than expected.  

So while we cancelled every Christmas party, my parents' 45th wedding anniversary party and several other social engagements, I went ahead to host our annual family Christmas Eve dinner.  Dad gamely showed up at my home for that dinner, the day he got discharged.  Understandably, he still looked frail, but noticeably happy.  And he had a glass of wine too to celebrate Christmas with us.

When I looked at my entire extended family happily chatting around Dad, I was a-washed with bliss.  I felt so much gratitude for the prayers for Dad from my friends in Singapore and all over the world.  When mum and I were feeling so down because of Dad's hospitalization, the only reason we had hope was because of the prayers of everyone who supported us.  So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for helping me BELIEVE in the magic of Christmas.

About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 44 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a Marketing and PR professional at a financial institution, her hobby as a Certified Professional Tarot Reader and Numerologist, and her family which includes a 20 year old son and 3 dogs with personality disorders.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the colloquail term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".   Together, we create a home made up with more nuts than a fruitcake but filled with plenty of love.

I truly do

Dad  - Blending in with the sofa.  He looked tired but happy

Mum and I having a good laugh at
the antics Dad and I got up to at the hospital

The antics never cease.  Grandma did not realise that I clipped a wee Santa's hat on her head.  She went home looking like that.

Our roast turkey with figs and chestnut stuffing.
It was the best turkey yet.

David cooked these.  Roasted potatoes with rosemary,
roasted parsnips with honey, roasted carrots with orange juice and brussels sprouts with wasabi glaze

David, the exhausted chef

An Indomitable Spirit

"Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from indomitable will." ~ Mahatma Ghandi

A Change of Plans For Christmas 

We had big plans for the year-end merry-making.  Mum was preparing to whip up a big lunch the weekend before Christmas, to celebrate the Winter Solstice.   I was going to be hosting our annual family Christmas Eve dinner.  On 27th December, Mum organized a big dinner party to celebrate my parents' 45th wedding anniversary. Dotted in between these, we have got several invitations to join our friends in their Christmas celebrations.

However, these plans had to change.

Dad Is not Well

Dad was suddenly hit with a stroke and  taken to the hospital where he was also diagnosed for Parkinson's disease and dementia.  That meant he will need to be religious about his long term rehabilitative program after he got discharged.   In fact, Dad was diagnosed with a silent stroke a few years back and the neurosurgeon did advise that he should do his rehabilitative exercises regularly.  Of course, Dad was stubborn and would rather continue eating and living well in his own way than to spend time in and out of the rehabilitative cente. Even when his mobility deteriorated to the point where Mum had to assist him with basic activities like bathing, eating and walking, he would make an effort to shuffle from the bedroom to the living room, holding onto furniture for support along the way.  We were not thrilled by this because we were worried about him falling at some point but we could not stop him.

Well, this time round it certainly was not a silent one.  His left arm and leg got impacted, his speech slurred more, and he looked confused.  I had seen Dad become increasingly frail over the years, but I have never seen Dad looking completely lost and feeling helpless.  My heart broke when I saw him being wheeled through the doors to get to his MRI session.  His even frailer form looked so broken.  However, no matter how ill or weak he was, I detected fire in his eyes.

He Still Has Fire In His Belly

His frail frame disguised the fire in his belly.

When the therapist came along to ask how old he was, he slurred defiantly, "..as old as the hills...and older than you."  When the therapist asked him to point to his eye with his finger, and then to point to his tummy next, he slurred even more defiantly, "You are asking me to do such a simple thing?"   I had a good laugh as I thought, "That was not a question honey, my Dad wants you to stop insulting his intelligence."  He struggled to get out of his bed and told me as he pointed to the nurses, "Come on, let's go.  They are preparing for us to leave."    The nurse told him that he was not going to be able to go home just yet.  So he looked squarely at her and challenged, " That is what you say."   For once, I was thankful that he was not mobile enough to put himself in any danger.  I was however impressed that in spite of his frailty, that indomitable spirit never waned.

I grew up watching and learning from that indomitable spirit. Just before he was incarcerated without trial for his "off-center" political views in 1978,  I remembered the moments when the lackeys of the Establishment marched Dad, in handcuffs, into our home while I was having Mandarin lessons with the tutor.  I saw  how frail and helpless Dad looked then ( like he did just now as he was wheeled out of the ward for his MRI session)  surrounded by a bunch of burley men hiding behind dark glasses, walkie-talkies and cheap plastic name tags.   Yet, at that point, he tried to be stoic and promised Mum and I  that all was going to be fine.  I was however, mortified that these strangers could barge into my home to disturb the peace of a once happy family.  I was extremely angry that they handcuffed a man with alternative political views when that handcuff should be reserved for common criminals. I was even more aghast at the thought that Dad was going to be taken away from us, without trial, without any ability to defend himself.  I rushed towards Dad  shouting " Let him go, you bastards.  He is not a criminal."   Dad shot them a very angry look.  It took me years to realize the anger was not at what had happend to him, but at the terrible way in which they handled the issue in front of his family that included an 8 year old.   His indomitable spirit never waned even then, as he just wanted to protect his family.

Bringing Christmas To Dad

Dad's condition will not get better.  That is the fact about stroke.  It is a condition that should be managed, but it will never get better.  As the doctors put him through tests after tests here at the hospital, he said, " They are wasting my time."  I agree.  They are.  I felt his frustrations.  I am sure somewhere in these tests, they are doing something productive to help him get better but I am not seeing it just yet.  His lack of rest at the hospital is not helping.   I wished I could take him home with me now and we could all have a fabulous Christmas celebration together as a family.  But I know that is not possible.  So, like Dad, with his indomitable spirit, if he cannot join me for our annual family Christmas Eve dinner, I will bring the Christmas revelry to him at the hospital on Christmas Day. 

Joel, please chill the wine already.

About the writer:

The writer of this blog post is a 44 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a Marketing and PR professional at a financial institution, her hobby as a Certified Professional Tarot Reader and Numerologist, and her family which includes a 20 year old son and 3 dogs with personality disorders.  She's married to a Scot who has been affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" and prays that he does not find out that the colloquail term when translated, has labeled him as a "Ginger Head".   Together, we create a home made up with more nuts than a fruitcake but filled with plenty of love.

This is Dad when he was younger.  Wasn't exactly David Hasselhoff..more like an Asian Che Guevera eh? This picture was taken during a family vacation at Desaru Beach in Malaysia. I remembered he lost his glasses in the waves.

Why Are We Celebrating Autumn?

 

Please get this right. We have no seasons in Singapore.  It is either,  hot, humid, rainy or the governmental elections season.  However, Singaporeans will always find a reason to celebrate regardless of occasion and season.  When our friends in the Northern hemisphere celebrate a winter white Christmas, I found it quite amusing that one of the local malls would be decked out in Christmas decoration with glitter-dusted cardboard cut-out snowflakes hanging all across the ceiling.  Furthermore, a giant inflatable snowman would sit outside the mall’s entrance, next to a snow machine that pumps out real snow.  I often found that odd and hoped that no small kids were mentally impacted by this ludicrous picture of a snowman and real snow in the tropics.

This month, we would be celebrating Autumn.  I knew Autumn was at our hot and humid doorstep when I could not find nice dresses in the shops.  The clothes racks at every shop were filled with fur-lined, fur-collared, quilted and woolly things. When I had decided to comfort myself by browsing for nice sandals at the shoe shop, I was dismayed to find boots of different lengths and colours lined up at the shop window…some even were fur-lined. For goodness sakes, we are in the tropics!

Tomorrow, Chinese all over the world will be celebrating the Mid-Autumn festival with Mooncakes and colourful lanterns.  I was not even sure when Autumn began in Singapore, yet we would be celebrating mid-Autumn tomorrow.  I started surfing the internet for more information about the Mid-Autumn festival last week.  It was part of my commitment to revisit my Chinese roots, if you remembered my last blog post athttp://thecrazyangmoandhisangrywife.blogspot.com/2013/09/going-back-to-my-chinese-roots.html

My research uncovered that the Mid-Autumn festival was surrounded by ancient myths.  One version of the myth was that in ancient China, there was an archer called Hou Yi who successfully shot down  9 out of the 10 suns that appeared in the sky to scorch and destroy the land.  He left only 1 sun in existence to provide light and life, not allowing the earth to fall into darkness.  Celebrated for his prowess, he became King and married the lady Chang Er.  Over time, Hou Yi became a despot obsessed about continuing his rule by searching for an elixir.  This elixir promised eternal life.  When the elixir was found,  Chang Er decided to consume it instead in a bid to prevent her husband from continuing his despotic rule forever.  She then transformed into a fairy and flew to the Moon on which she lived.    The grateful people on earth lighted their lanterns on earth so that Chang Er could see them from the moon.  That is why today, the Chinese hang lanterns around their homes during this festival.    Hou Yi grieved for his beloved wife so he put out a table of offerings of cakes and sweets to honour her every Autumn.  Today, the Chinese consumed moon-shaped cakes with the same intent to honor her.   To find out more about Chang Er, do read it at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chang%27e .  

The Mid-Autumn festival was always a wonderful gathering of family members enjoying Mooncakes and sipping tea under the light of the full moon, while children carried lanterns and ran across the garden.  Sometimes, if you were lucky, you might hear a scream from the kitchen when a child’s lantern caught fire and his or her mother came running with a kettle of water to put the fire out.  Often the mother and her visibly shaken child would be okay, but it was totally hilarious for the rest of us peering from the other side of the fence.

Mum will be cooking up a storm to celebrate the Mid-Autumn festival tomorrow.  Our dessert would be the ubiquitous Mooncakes in different flavours.  I personally liked the ice-cream Mooncakes, but Mum thought it was an abomination to the Chinese culture.  She did not rate the chocolate, truffle-filled and lychee martini ones either, and thought they were too ”angmo” for her.  So I had decided to get my own Mooncakes – Hello Kitty ones.  I even got a Hello Kitty lantern to match.

Mum saw festivals like these as an opportunity to gather as a family.  I saw them as an opportunity to relive the memories of my childhood.  Autumn was not about the weather becoming colder, the leaves turning from green to a rusty gold and certainly not about the calorie-laden Mooncakes.  It was a season that celebrated my childhood, and I knew every year that when Mid-Autumn festival came around, it would not be too long before  the “cold-wintry-white” season of Christmas would arrive.  That was yet another wonderful opportunity to relive my childhood memories.


About the writer:
The writer of this blog post is a 44 year old mother of one, who spreads her time between her day job as a marketing professional at a financial institution, her hobby as a certified professional tarot reader and numerologist, and her family which includes a 19 year old son and 3 dogs with personality disorders.  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".   Together, we create a home made up with more nuts than a fruitcake but filled with plenty of love.

Hello Kitty Mooncakes.  Too cute.  They came packaged in this Hello Kitty bag.

Hello Kitty lantern.  Super cute.

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.