Cardboard Auntie

Honestly I didn't want to read her email. But I had a hunch it would be an entertaining piece of crap and I was right. 

I'm so sick of her blaming so many people for her past behavior including bringing up supposed birth defects. 

She is now banking on her only asset - language ability - to seek forgiveness but there are so many contradictions in her literature. Including undying bouts of hatred evident from her listing the 'injustices' various family members have inflicted on her. 

She felt disrespected by Jasmine & Joel but here she is showing our mom 30 long years of disrespect by not addressing her. You let her know that Respect is Earned, Not Given. 

I find it sickening that she has practiced all her life this mentality cos you like/dislike the parent, you transfer that feeling to the child. 

As a child, honestly I liked her visits back to Sg cos we'd get free and awesome books that fueled our learning process. But I also remembered vividly the sinking, nauseating feeling when I saw that Ross and Lynn owned 2-3 times the amt of books from her, on their shelves. That considering that there are 3 kids in our family! It was then that I learnt from a young age that favoritism existed even in families. It was hurtful back then because I couldn't recall what it was that we had done to her as kids to make her treat us less special. 

In 2000, when I was 19, I had the misfortune of being treated like a piece of used cardboard by her n her husband. They got me to do Chinese translation of road names for their new book. I received nothing but a complimentary book and one line of credit in it. It was years after being in the workforce, and paying for translation services that I realized how much money they saved by using me. Ironically I vividly remember them criticizing me on how I didn't know how to translate certain terms. Yet, I still I didn't dislike her at that point.

The straw that broke the camel's back was, as I shared with you, this venomous fax that she sent to our home. It was around the time of ah ma's first stroke, the prelude of her long descent into immobility. In it your 3rd sister admonished you and insinuated that you were good to ah ma only for financial reasons and that you were in her own words 'always anticipating ah ma's death'. She could have just sent a private letter or email. But she chose fax, where everyone who was literate could see it in plain sight. Even the maid cleaning the table. 

This, togt with the treatment from your other sisters back then... I rem seeing my mom cry because of their spiteful words. I saw a clear red line that separated us from them. It was a very heartbreaking realization for me cos up till that time I respected all of them. As you said we were never blind or deaf.  What you didn't know was, we were all in pain because from this sharp feeling of pure and thoroughly wicked betrayal.  Any familial feelings evaporated at that point. I was pursuing an internship with Disney at that point and I rem breaking down one day at my desk as the pain was too much to bear. 

You don't pull out a sword, draw our blood, then ask us to respect u as an elder. The world doesn't work like that. 

I'm not going into detail about her behavior during ah ma's last days and during her wake. The wounds are fresh I trust that everyone still remembers how hard she fought against returning home. I'm glad you took my suggestion of emailing her the pic of ah ma on the hospital bed. 

My siblings and I do not believe she is repentant. And honesty there is no incentive for us to befriend her. We don't treat her as family and she's also not our friend. She's not even a piece of cardboard I would be interested in using. 

And so, I bid goodbye to songwriting again

I made the painful decision to end music classes at Millet today. They changed my instructor for the 2nd time in less than 2 years and the new instructor didn't seem to appreciate the song which I was learning to play, which was my self-penned composition. It was clear that she was into rhythm, musical structure and conformity, something which my songs didn't quite have in her opinion. It's not that she's a bad instructor, it's just that at my age, I don't want to waste time and energy putting up with people or bearing issues not worth my attention. Life is too short, and I think I've spent much time and money furthering this interest. I wished I had gone further, and I believed I could have travelled far with my departed instructor. But it was perhaps God's will in putting this to a premature end, for a reason which I will only appreciate much later in life. I'm cried a bit of sad tears today knowing that it will be for the 2nd time in life that I have to shelve my songwriting interests to an unknown future. Someday I hope more people can hear them. I just don't know when.

When Someone from the Past Visits

Sometimes when people ask me what I do in my job, I'm at a loss for words. It's like I do everything, and yet nothing at all. I could be said to be a generalist or an administrator, yet there are many who will not be capable of doing my job.

Today midway at camp briefing, a staff from our camp organizing partner came up and introduced himself. He was a student from the RP's DIEM 2007 cohort. He reminded me that I was his JIVE IG advisor n I administered his scholarship application, which he was awarded. He eventually went on to be a proud grad of not just RP, but also NTU.

I never taught him a class lesson or handled his FYP or PP. As club advisor, he prob saw me once a week for 1-2hrs, where I address >100 of them. I left way before he graduated. Honestly I don't rem him at all. And if he never came up to me today, this would have remained a secret.

But for him to come up to me 7 years later, remind me of the work I did, n the difference it made... It was an incredible moment. So thank you, CH, for this little gesture n the huge ripple it made in my heart.

I will remember you.