In loving memory of our beloved father on the 30th year death's anniversary

October 4 each year was a special day. Yet most of us did not remember that day except for a few, especially for my sister Bee. But this year 2011 we would meet to commemorate the death anniversary of our beloved father who was gone since Oct 4, 1981.

Sadly we had not celebrated his death anniversary until now. So it had been 30 years since we remembered this occasion. It was not that we had forgotten him. But it was because we had never been close to him during his lifetime but more closer to our late mum.

My late father spent more time outside the home than with us. When at home, he liked to do his own things and to be in his own world, pursuing his many hobbies ranging from music, to reading, to collecting smoking pipes and fountain pens and also much into photography.

Now with both parents gone and with the Lord, we felt the loss greater than before. Thus we would put in more effort to meet and to help each other with their passing.

This year we took the effort to meet partly because we just had the first year memorial service for our late mum this July who passed on last year. It was therefore appropriate to reminisce about our late father too.

The weekend night of October 1 started with a potluck dinner where everyone brought their favorite dishes to my sister’s house in the East. After the simple home cook food, we gathered around in the living room to talk about our father’s life in an informal chat chit setting. We sang his favorite hymns and some Christian songs.

Earlier I took out my personal collection of his numerous b/w photos which I stored up for event such like this. Some of the photos were only being viewed in the public by us for the first time.

When we saw ourselves in the photos, we laughed and joked of ourselves when we saw what we looked like 30 years back. We could not recognize some of us but we surely could recognize our handsome father from his legendary photo. It showed a slight Caucasian appearance of a handsome young and trim Oriental man, which all of us would proudly exhibited to others.

For the older ones, they remembered him as one who liked photography and had taken many photos in black and white with his many cameras. It seemed that at that time of his craze, we were living in a 2 rooms’ single storey government house in Henderson Walk which had since been demolished.

Though the only bedroom meant for relaxation for his growing brood of children and for our parents themselves, he would improvise the tiny room into a suitable photographic dark room to develop his latest photos.

In addition, he also possessed several cameras in his personal collection which I still owned one.

My late father was a man who liked cars, so he took us often for ‘ Jalan- jalan’  or ' makan angin' to Changi Beach, Katong beach , the Esplanade, and the Botanic Gardens where one elder brother would walked unwittingly into the huge landscaped pond and had to be rescued by my father. This subject was a classic tale since.

Of all the places we frequented together when young, I enjoyed the rainbow neon lights adorning the multi-storey levels of the 10 storey apartment at Katong Beach most. I also liked watching the Katong lion statue at the end of the long highway bridge.

For Changi Beach, I remembered playing with coarse sand on the beach in hot afternoon sun, collecting white and pretty sea shells whilst my parents took shelter under the Angsana tree.

Though my late father did not pursue a formal education because of the World War, he loved Chinese classics and would read widely. He was a gifted self- taught scholar at heart and he knew many legendary and famous Chinese literatures of ancient times.

Similarly though he was not brought up in a musical environment, he loved music passionately, especially classical music. He enjoyed the love for music of all kinds, which ranged from pop to contemporary .Yet in particular, he had an immense obsession for classical music.

My knowledge of the classical music world came from him. I would savor his vast collection of musical records of Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Chopin and Tchaikovsky and read the contents of the records intensely. My early lesson of famous music composers was learnt at home because of him, not during music class at school.

He would buy musical records after records, in spite of frequent nagging from my late mum. I remembered him sneaking the latest purchase through the louvered window of our 2 bedrooms’ flat in Jalan Klinik and then signaled to whoever who saw him not to expose him. Then he would walk in through the main door of the living room, acting innocent and natural to avoid scolding from his other half. Maybe my late mum knew by then about his little trick and just had to close one eye since she knew how much he simply loved all those music.

As a child, I remembered sleeping at night in our apartment in Margaret Drive in the living room, probably at 6 years old when he would turned on the record player for the love song of “ Bengawan Solo”, a romantic Indonesian love classic song.

He would then dance waltz leisurely with my mum. I would act as if I was sleeping but would peep slyly with one eye opened to observe them dancing away amidst the soft hue lighting in such a romantic setting. When he noticed me awake, he would signal me to go to sleep. Sigh!

On top of his vast personal interest and hobbies, he also liked collecting smoking pipes as he smoked a lot at one stage but gave them up in the later part of his life. Then all smoked pipes were ignored and given away. He also collected many types of fountain pens which he would displayed and cleaned  with his prized collection of smoked pipes.

He would clean both of them religiously and passionately until his interest declined in due time.

My deepest impression of him was that he was an honest man. My late mother often related this true story to me about him who during the World War had found a load of valuable goods which he could easily sell them for a high profit. At that time during the War, such windfall would be most welcomed yet he chose to return them to the rightful owner. That’s the type of fine personality my late father had!

When his boss at his long standing job as a trading clerk whom he worked from the day of his marriage till death, asked him about his then salary as to whether they were sufficient for the growing needs of his increasing brood of children. He would reply naively that he had enough for his needs at home, though the home could do with more!

It had never crossed his mind to ask for extra pay even if he deserved it. But then again was this type of fine character he possessed throughout his life!

He had escaped death once in his life during the Japanese Occupation, when the Japanese took him imprisoned and then tortured him by stomping on his bloated stomach of enforced water. Though he was eventually ferried to Changi beach to be executed, for some strange reasons, he was the only one who was spared the firing squad and went home to live on.


That alone was a miracle from God who spared his life, for without it; we would not have been here at all.

Towards the end of his life, for eight long years, he suffered a lot in sickness when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Even in the remaining last eight years of his lifespan of 63, he was mostly alone as he was throughout his life.

He was a loner at heart, he liked to be in his own world, pursuing his own dreams and doing all the thinking he wanted. He had very few friends.

When he was called home to the Lord on 4 October 1981, he was already a Christian for a few years, having being baptized in a small Anglican church at Queenstown.

Though he became a Christian at a late age in life, he would go alone, sometime with daughter Bee, to an Anglican church against the wishes of his wife until she later also became one many years after his death.

I could also remembered the baptism service when I  also witnessed that memorable day when he was willing to show his commitment to the world of his new found faith as against his deep beliefs of his youth in other pagan religions. Thank God for this new faith In God the Father because he was in Heaven since his death, and must be waiting for my late mum until she was eventually called home to be with him and with the Lord 29 years later.

All in all, we concluded that he was a good and simple father who took much effort and did his best to bring in the bread and butter for his large family. He would bestow gifts on all his children in spite of his miserable income. When he would go shopping, he would buy one item at a time, one time for one child. Each time, he would buy another new item until every child had their turn of receiving his gift.

So though the anniversary was brief and informal, it also marked the beginning of a new era to us all. Why? Because we had recently found our long lost relatives in China, our late father’s sisters and their children!

So in the next few months, we as a family would travel there to visit our new found double first cousins, whom we had not met or even knew.

We would travel to meet a group of unknown people whom we never knew they existed until recently. How they looked like, what they were like, all these questions could not be answered until we would meet them soon. We just had no idea or had any clue at all!

But we were to meet some total strangers unknown to us, but men and women whom we were all bonded and intertwined by the bloodlines of our forefathers and of the generations for thousands of years in mainland China. Sounded amazing and exciting, wasn’t it?

That’s why this 30^th anniversary of our late father was unique and a tribute to what he was, especially that we had now found our long lost first cousins from our father’s side. It was an significant milestone to all of us and of our lives! Hooray!!!

For all these, we were so glad for what God had done to grant us the impossibility to be a possibility to meet our late father’s relatives in China. Hallelujah! Praise the Lord. Thank God again for the touching  lifestory of my late father! My late father indeed deserved this chronicle of his amazing life!

The Memorial Service of the greatest loss of my life

The Memorial Service of the greatest loss of my life

The first memorial service that I attended in my entire life turned out to be for my late mum. It had been one year since her passing. The dreaded day came and now before I knew it, it was now one year since.

On 3^rd July 2011, we held the first memorial service in memory of the woman of all our life, the woman who to us, the woman of strength and pillar of faith, the woman who held the whole family as one, the woman of great example of wise compassion, the woman who was a great loss to all of us, especially me.

To me, her passing was the greatest loss of my life.

No one, no friend, no human could ever take her place. Her passing changed my life completely, everything from dwelling, to personal habits, to food and even to lifestyle.

During her life, I had spent so much time with her. I had done much, talked much and been to many places abroad with her.

Many simple places that we frequented brought back memories of our good times, our times of togetherness, our times of confiding of my worrying problems, times of testing new dining and new food, times of strolling in sunny beaches of Singapore, times of bargain shoppings during the Great Singapore Sale every June, time at our favorite shopping haunts, each time we remembered those shops who cheated us or shortchanged us, all these I would remember all to the last day of my life.

Her passing meant not just losing a mother, for she was more than a mother to me, she was my best friend. I had lost the best friend I ever had, someone a friend I had since birth, a friend I could never find again even if I travelled round and round the world to look for one, no one surely could ever take her place.

In my life of many friends that came and went, some good and others bad, siblings and relatives of all kinds and tempers, some had touched me much but she alone touched me the most and she alone had won my heart through and through, without a shadow of doubt, she alone touched my heart so much because she was a rare mother.

Though she had not study much because of the War so she understood not the new modern gadgets of this and that, yet she raised most of us to acquire high educations, many achieving doctorates and masters’ degrees, all with the little she had but with all the great faith and the simplicity she possessed.

What a wonderful woman she was, she was the black pearl amongst all gems, the choice jewel and the crown jewels of all diamonds, that’s the kind of mum I had.

She had constantly astounded me with her wit, her humour, her intelligence; her great simple wisdom of her simple life philosophy was always so refreshing and so original.

Yet she could be so practical, never allowing herself to dream on to the horizon and her children starving and wanting, she knew when to stop all those daydreams and went on to take all the household problems firmly and bravely into her stride.

With all her wonderful practical wits, her wise way of living, where else would I go to learn except learning by watching her life and her faith closely?

She was the best teacher of my life.

Always full of compassion, she would teach me to help the poor in the streets, to lend to those in need and never to expect any return. She would sacrifice her best time to give encouragement and to guide her children including me in their difficult times of our life.

She was full of cheer, always smiling, seldom complaining and always calm. Even in the last few painful months of her life where she suffered many unsolved ailments, she would put on a smile to greet her guests, her pastor and her relatives who came to encourage her and to cheer her more.

On 3^rd July 2011, the first memorial service was held at the crematorium at the Garden of remembrance, a Christian crematorium in the West.

It was a simple one hour service with her former pastor, some eulogies from 3 children and grandson and then we went on to live our lives to follow the example she had set to us before.

After the service, we walked up to both of our parents’ niche and then proceeded to tell her all that we wanted to tell.

As for me, I told her that I missed her terribly, I wished she was with me and how I wanted her to live on for another few years.

Instead she gave me an inspiration to live on, to live well and to live for God, so that one day when my time on earth was up, I would returned to the land that she had gone before, the place where she watched all our movements from Above and she always praying for all her children to return to her Heavenly fold when all our times were due.











So with a simple ceremony and dinner, we awaited to remember her again year by year and for us to complete the race of the good fight on earth and to be with the one who was my greatest loss  and be with her for an eternal  glorious time soon.

Thanks for reading this memorial blog to remember this wonderful lovely woman, the one I love to remember forever. Amen

A new home with a sky garden at Regent

A new home with a sky garden at Regent

With all the several months of preparation and numerous store trips came to one fine sunny morning in May 2011 when we moved out of Faber Avenue to the new home at Regent Park.

Thirty years in a landed 2 storey property with ample of room space and sizable garden, we now entered a new experience of living in an apartment overlooking a nearby school field and the entrance of the traffic tunnel from 2 expressways.

Prior to moving in, we reviewed the decibel levels of the new place and concluded that the noise was too hard to bite. Being familiar to a quiet surrounding of slow swaying trees and serene scenery with hummingbird chirping and chameleons occasionally appearing, the new apartment beside those fast moving cars and heavy trucks with their related noises proved too much for one of us. Headache and health problem was the last thing anyone of us would want!

A frantic search was made for an appropriate solution. Yes, we found them on the Net but they were from the United States. More searching and one week later we found someone locally to install an expensive 3 sets of soundproof double glazed windows.

More weeks later, the windows were installed giving a chic and smart appearance to our sheer delight. This simple solution saved us from the agony of living with high distressing decibels. With the thorniest matter resolved, we continued with much gusto to move in, especially for me who moved in bit by bit, little by little weekly for the next 4 weeks.

On the day of moving in early May of this year, I waited for the technician from the Power Department to cut off the gas, then the water and the electricity. Now the house I had lived for many years had become inhabitable from that afternoon onwards until the new owner would take over.

The Saturday before moving out, the whole family met for the last time for the final glimpse at the old house to be followed by a seafood dinner.

Those who were more sentimental took photos of the already bare house, whilst the garden was still intact and still blooming with many palm trees ,one mango and a rambutan tree. We also left behind for the new owner an adorable bird’s nest with two baby birds. What could we do except to leave them such a cute and welcoming gift for the new owner as we couldn’t bring along to the new apartment, could we?

Some of the family tried to salvage what the little that was left. Suddenly everyone began to feel the forthcoming loss of living in my late mum’s place where many members of the family had lived before but they had went on to live in better places after some period in the time of its history.

                             Two days henceforth, this old home could only be kept as a memory in everyone’s mind and for those who had lived in the home of the family. Sad, sigh! But that was life and we had to go on with our new life with a new beginning!

Now back to the new home at Regent, with the many trips to the plant nursery and to IKEA Furniture Store, the interior of new apartment became very Caribbean and very tropical.

It was mostly white for the furniture; the walls are mocha color with complementary similar shades. Most of the furniture was brought from the old house and they were either timber or rattan.

The whole interior now had a feel of a resort poolside; it was very woody and natural. It also carried as much memories of the past home and of my beloved mum.

At the corner of the living room which had the full view of the outside, we created a small indoor garden. The floor was laid with our late mum’s grass colored carpet being one of her last earthly possessions before she passed on.

A huge black metal planter with many pigeon holes was hoisted up at one corner. It was not as intimidating as I thought, contrary to my earlier gut feeling. With many exotic ferns and delicate colorful hanging foliages from the old house, the tiny garden patch began to possess a touch and feel of the former house. On the other opposite corner, we placed 2 striking big white and purple hued Thai orchids given by one of our brother in law, David as housewarming gifts.

Swiftly we had a beautiful neat tropical Garden of Eden, our exclusive special domain in the sky that overlooked the hustle and the bustle of the heavy traffic of one expressway converging to another.

Out of the blue, the apartment was no longer impersonal or concrete. In place we had our own private green garden patch that reminded us of the memories of the old home, of the memories of our late mum’s favorite plant which was the main feature with its leafy broad jade green leaves and slender stems planted in her favorite Chinese floral huge pot.

We had one special Korean Cabinet from the old house which belonged to my late mum. It displayed all memorabilia of her eye glasses, her Christmas teacups, her personal Chinese Bible and even her marriage certificate dating back to 1934 from Fukien Province of Southern China where my ancestors originated.

At another corner near the kitchen door, we placed both my parents’ marriage photo on the wall as mementos for both of them. Our late parents were often in our thoughts even in our new home, so that was the sole purpose for this unique spot.

As for me, though my tiny bedroom was only a fraction of the former, but with careful and precise interior arrangements, it became very personal with every inch laid with the old furniture with a sprinkling of a few new ones.

I also salvaged most of the old furniture whilst many other unnecessary items were given away unwillingly to the Salvation Army due to constraint of space. In lieu of impractical objects, I added more tropical blooming plants and many look- alike man-made flowers for more lively interior atmosphere with my own personal collections of favorite plants, of different types of teddy bears and numerous miniature tea cups and private collectors’ toy shoes.

My bedroom had also been transformed into another unique Garden of Eden, it was Hwa’s Garden of Eden besides the Eden of the Sky just 2 metres away.

One week in the new place, we had settled in. I had to learn to manoveroe carefully around the compact apartment and had soon got used to tread around, making sure and ensuring that I wouldn’t hit my thigh or feet into any corner of some furniture.

By the second week, everyone had settled now to their normal routine. My 5 months Indonesian maid was generally happy with her little storeroom where she slept nightly with the Venetian blinds of the bookcase louvered routinely for more air and ventilation from the nearest window.

The apartment in general received the morning sun on the living room. In the afternoon the sun came through the two bathrooms and these helped the plants there to be healthy and green. So some of my favorite plants were thus placed in the washroom, not only to liven up this essential space but it was also the best nursery area for these plants.

Our Garden of Eden overlooking the vast expense of the school field could be transformed into an aerobic cycling gym when one cycled on the stationery bike placed solidly on my late mum’s green carpet as the garden floor.

It was fun to have the California Fitness’s aerobic feeling and it must be cool to cycle in the only private garden amidst the concrete sky of Singapore whilst watching the world rushing hurriedly along the expressways totally unaware of being watched from afar.

One last thing about this new apartment, only 2 invited guests would feel comfortable at any one time in the new place due to constraint of space.

When 4 normal sized persons sat in the living room adjacent to the private garden, the whole apartment would reach its maximum capacity. Any additional guest would cause this place to be too crowded and too packed, sigh!

Too bad but that was what would be life here at Regent! That was what the new life would be like in the tiny compact apartment, so everybody had to bear with this!

In spite of all the highs and lows in this season of moving house, yes, it had been a wonderful new and learning experience so far. Thank God for everything, the place, and the strength for all the packing and unpacking, thank God for all who helped make this new place possible. Thanks to all who had given some gifts of some sorts in one way or another to make staying here at Regent possible.

May God bless these generous hearts!

So for now I wouldn’t ask for more or much, right? So everybody Hip hip hooray! Thanks for this opportunity to write this blog as a mementos. May God’s blessings be with all who read!

Entrance to our Garden of Eden at Regent

          

A true story of God’s protection to preserve the family line

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A true story of God’s protection to preserve the family line



This is a true life story of God’s protection of a family line. Read this true story that proclaims the miracle of God that the present generation will honour His name.

From the onset of WWII , Mei arose daily at sunrise. Hastily she changed into old attire in the staff’s quarters of the Harbour Board of Singapore. Her father, Toh was a trading clerk at one of the best harbours in Asia.


Meanwhile Mei waited nervously. Upon the arrival of other neighbours, the woman crowd hastily grabbed some food and hurried into the adjacent jungle to hide.


This routine lasted the entire duration of the Japanese Occupation. Youthful women camouflaged themselves, wanting to elude male soldiers’ interest. Many women were sexually abused by brutal soldiers since the War started.


After dusk, Mei returned home. She would then retire beneath the antique bed in the only bedroom of the house. Nightly, Mei hid below the bed. Sides were hoarded after she was beneath it. There she lied until the next day. This was her hideout nightly until the War ended.

Only 18 when the WWII begun, Mei had 5 years of schooling and topped the class annually. Her prospect seemed bright as she prepared to be a varsity graduate.


In that era, it was difficult recruiting young girls for schooling. Parents refused them a formal education. Females were seen as inferior, having to marry at 16 and hence belonged to their in-laws. Parents spent scarcely on them, including education!


Furthermore, parents detested their daughters adorning skirts. They objected the expose of their bare legs with skirt as the uniform. They loathed men goggling at their daughters’ delicate legs.


That explained why Mei was admitted late at 13. Her mother was ultimately convinced that her eldest daughter should pursue some basic education.

The War changed Mei’s life completely. The Japanese invaded Singapore on 15 February 1942. They occupied Kuala Lumpur up north a month earlier. Next, they advanced with speed and ferocity towards south towards Singapore.


Several years of War resulted in the invasion for vital natural resources. Singapore was also essential as a launch pad for the War. At the tip of Malaya Peninsular, Singapore was a major British military base, being founded in 1819 by a British statesman, Sir Stamford Raffles.

Within a week of intense fighting in the north and severe air-raids in the south, Singapore was conquered rapidly without much resistance.


The Fall of Singapore was the greatest defeat, probably Britains’ worst defeat in WWII. Singapore was a vital part of the British Empire and was considered impregnable as a fortress, even having the name “Gibraltar in the Far East”. The Japanese later changed its name to “Syonan-to” meaning “The Light of the South”.

Concurrently, in another part of the island lived a 25 years old Chinese man. He came 17 years earlier from China, an orphan with his elder sister who controlled the family heirlooms.


For years, Cheng lived a leisure life. Living on the wealth of his late parents, he frequented the coffeeshops and spent his time discussing the latest politics in China. He led a fervent following and raised funds for the Sino-Japanese War.


When WWII arrived, Cheng was singled for spreading propaganda. Collectively with many men, they were arrested and placed in a converted prison at Fords Factory in Bukit Timah Road. The Japanese targeted mainly the Chinese. Other races were momentarily out of danger.

Cheng was transferred into a dim cell. He was interrogated at length. After refusing to co-operate, the Japanese soldier dunked him into smelly brown fluid. Repeatedly, the soldier dunked him again until he blacked out.


When he regained conscious, he realised his four limbs were tied up, his body was secured onto the mud floor. Then he heard a command shouting, “ Iku “, meaning “Go”.


Immediately, a heavy corporal with military boots jumped mercilessly onto his bloated tummy. They repeated the torture numerous times. They kicked hard at his limbs. He was beaten until he fainted. Then they left him alone .


Next Cheng recollected being forced to arise and was dragged onto a military truck. Together with many men, they were ferried to a secluded spot at Changi Beach, a 2 hours journey to the north. Every man then proceeded towards the beach, totally blindfolded.


Abruptly, Cheng felt someone forced him aside. His tied hands were crudely loosened. Although he could not understand the soldiers, he knew instinctly what was happening.


He saw many men lined up in front of a firing squad. With the command “Iru” meaning “Fire”, the men felled, shot point blank and dead in a moment.


The same procedure was carried out until 99 men were killed. Every of the 100 men were dead except Cheng !! Then the Japanese soldiers left. Cheng was deserted.


Without warning he was abandoned with all the dead corpses. He looked in disbelief at the lifeless bodies.They were his comrades and his neighbours!


Slowly it dawned on him that he was the only one spared. For whatever reason, he knew not. He slowly found strength and then began walking, bit by bit towards Chinatown. Along the way, he hitched a ride on a nightsoil truck.


At home, only did his sister revealed her bold plan of bribery of the soldiers, and how she willingly gave all the valuables, meant for his marriage, to exchange for his life.

For the next 3 and half years, both of Mei and Cheng’s households suffered extreme lack and much misery. There was insufficient food or commodities in the market.


The Japanese issued their own currency. The ‘Banana’ currency was used to barter goods. Pork , sugar and rice were sold once monthly, half kati for each family.


The locals supplemented food with sweet potatoes and tapiocas from their backyards. For clothing, they used old curtains and alter them into garments.

Mei’s father, Toh was in the Port when the torpedos started . He was alone in the vessel with his colleague, Ahmad.


Upon hearing the approaching planes, they bent down to avoid the torpedo shots. But one shot ruthlessly sliced Ahmad’s head off. The Malay man was killed instantaneously before Toh’s very eyes. Miraculously Toh was not harmed, his body fully intact.


Nonetheless, when Toh reached his Henderson Kampong home, he was in a state of bewilderment. He would act eccentric, even after the War. Witnessing the abrupt killing of his colleague was too much for him.

Those harsh years of the Japanese occupation brought much adversity. The locals lived in constant fear. It was mandatory to bow to any passing soldiers. Anyone who refused would be severely punished.


In schools, Chinese was forced to study the Japanese Language and had to learn the Japanese National Anthem. Only Japanese movies and propaganda films were screened in cinemas.

Against all odds, when the WWII ended abruptly in 1945, there was great jubilation and ecstasy .


On 12 September 1945, an impressive victory procession was held at the Padang.


Lord Louis Mountbatten accepted the Japanese surrender at the City Hall. The British flag was raised again and Singapore came under the British’s rule once more.


Every citizen, including Toh, Mei and Cheng was at this historical venue to witness the official ending of the War. There were much frenzied celebrations, with much jubilation that harsh times had ultimately ended.

After the War, normal living activities resumed. At work, Mei and Cheng met and were married a year later.


Mei and Cheng were my parents who lived through the Japanese Occupation. My late father lived many years to recount these true stories. My mother who passed on recently, recalled those difficult years frequently to me.

If they had not survived the War, it would be impossible for the writing of this account in memory of both my parents who later became Christians.


Thank God for preserving the family line, that the present generation has the privilege to know His name and become His children.


Thank God for what He has done in the past that the future generation can live on.


All Glory be to God! Amen


Note: Only names are fictitious, all others are true stories.