Message for Mok

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Message for Mok

TODAY marks the seventh day of my mother’s passing. Like everyone else, a mother’s love is special. I grabbed every opportunity to be with her in her last few months. Despite the fact that we didn’t spend much time together when I was growing up, our mother-son love remains strong.

I was sent away at the age of five to live with my eldest sister. This was because her house was near a good school and it was thought that I’d be guaranteed of a better education. This proved to be the right move as I became one of the top students there and was offered a place in a premier boarding school. It also meant another five years away from the family.

I recall an incident that happened during the early months of living with my sister. I had a terrible fever which lasted for days. Although my sister did take care of me, something was missing. I took a lot of medicines but nothing worked. My sister tried everything, but the fever just didn’t go away.

She then sent a panicky message to my late mother to come. And she did — immediately. I remember the joy of seeing her after so many weeks of being away. Sitting close to me, she provided her motherly touch. She massaged my aching body and spinning head. Miraculously, I felt much better in a matter of hours!

Such is the power of a mother’s love and touch in our lives.


Our beloved Mok.

To my mother whom my siblings and I fondly called Mok, here’s a message for you. We know that you’re now in a better place. We thank you for your endless sacrifices. We know you used to wake up so early in the morning to accompany my father to the rubber plantation. We know that you had to walk for miles, not because you couldn’t afford a motorcycle, but you wanted to save the money for our school fees.

We can’t thank you enough for your wisdom and vision. I recall you said, “We can’t give you lots of money or assets. But your father and I will give you one thing. With the thing, you can find your own money and buy your own assets. We’ll give you education, no matter what it takes.”

As it turned out, my siblings and I were among the only handful of people in our kampung who went on to pursue higher education back then. My mother was adamant about this. She never allowed our monetary problems to come in the way.

Now I understand the sacrifices she went through. Of course it’s not easy to separate with your 5-year-old child. It’s hard to wake up at 4.30am every day. It’s difficult to do all the things you did. Mok, you can rest as much as you want.

You’re now free from the knee pain you’ve suffered from for so long. You can now walk freely in the garden, something you couldn’t do in the last few years.

We’ll miss you, but you’ll always live on in our hearts. Goodbye Mok…

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