Mamma Mia...Mother of Mine

A lot of things have been on my mind of late. From the mundane to the philosophical, my thoughts have zipped through a whole gamut of information that causes a breakdown in my writing zeal. The malaise resulting from this mental block saw me oftentimes staring at the computer screen – or the Internet – in the hope of getting my groove back, so to speak.

Tonight, a glimmer of idea slowly took shape thanks in part to a loved one’s encouragement and to the imminent celebration of Mother’s Day.

If there were one thing I could say about my mother, I would say that Mama is the most influential figure in my life. Influential in the sense she has always been there to offer a lending ear, to goad me on when the odds are unfavourable, to hug me tightly as I weep convulsively and to keep me in check whenever I’m out of bounds. She is indeed a best friend in need.

As a daughter, she had sacrificed a chance of pursuing her studies and worked instead to help my grandmother run a large household soon after the untimely demise of my grandfather. This tireless dedication to her family is the hallmark of Mama’s dignified demeanor. People look up to her and listen intently to what she has to say.

When she tied the knot with my father, Mama turned motherhood into a full-time, self-consuming career. Right after they were blessed with Kak Long, us twins propitiously entered the scene less than a year later! Her hands full with the three little ones, Mama learnt to make do with the bare essentials that she could get hold of back then in Kota Bharu.

To me, Mama’s sheer commitment to her children’s wellbeing and education is exemplary. She worked us through some mathematical and verbal exercises, some of which were her own ‘handiwork’ involving some numerical and spelling devices she had randomly generated. Despite her interest in our academic standing, she didn’t pressure us to get good grades. Sure she reminded us to study but I didn’t remember being reprimanded unnecessarily for falling short of excellence in secondary (high) school. The only thing I could recall at this age is a look of disappointment on her face. Perhaps that was enough to leave a meaningful mark on my adolescent mind.

During our primary school years, she would wake up early to prepare our breakfast and iron our school uniforms (at one time, there were four of us in school!), sending and picking us up from school, cooking our lunch and dinner and occasionally whipping up kuehs and pastries for teatime. This was on top of cleaning the household, rigorously hand-washing my dad’s white working shirts, hanging clothes to dry, marketing and grocery-shopping and helping us with our school work. She was like an Energizer Bunny, regimentally toiling away and running a tight ship to which we were her lucky, beloved passengers. Unbeknownst to all of us at the time, under all the undue strain, my mom’s overzealous dedication towards her hearth and home has begun to take its toll on her aching body. Even Wonder Woman longs for a break…..

Mama is a pillar of strength. Many unfortunate situations have come into and gone from our lives. We can either be embittered by the ordeals that come our way or reflect upon the underlying message behind the seeming obstacles. Is God trying to say something to us? Have we become complacent?

The discovery of a kidney disease when I was in Form One is one such heartbreaking development. My mom fell terribly ill, accompanied with high fever, vomit and fainting spells. She had to spend a night at the hospital. I remember it being the first time that all of us siblings sleeping en masse in our parents’ room. My dad bunked with my baby brother on his queen-size bed and the girls on mattresses splayed on the floor. I remember crying for Mama that very night. Little did I know, hospital would soon become a permanent fixture in our tiny universe.

The prognosis of her condition meant that she couldn’t be as active as before. Sometimes, I could feel she was torn between fulfilling her wifely/maternal duties and looking after her own health. More often than not, the former won.

More than a decade had passed when her kidneys were classified as irreversibly damaged. Even with the slew of medications prescribed by her specialist, the kidneys, as dictated by the disease, would gradually deteriorate. Sooner or later, she has to turn to the dialysis machine to replicate her renal functions. After her first dialysis session, which vividly took place on the second day of Raya in 1999, Mama came back home a different person. She was full of vim and vigour, and her wan complexion turned sanguine.

Naturally, with dialysis comes a host of other complications and side effects. As one would expect, Mama’s spirit wavers in correspond to the physical setbacks that she faces on a daily basis. In one instance, she was in 2003 diagnosed with hyperthyroidism which called for an urgent operation in order to expunge the debilitating symptoms and restore Mama’s diminishing level of energy. My mother is a fighter.

Notwithstanding her ailments, she remains approachable to those who seek her help and steadfast against all the odds thrown her way. Nevertheless, there were times when she sank into a period of desolateness that left us feeling equally hopeless. As the years advance on, however, she has snapped out of her blue funk and exclaimed, “I must look after myself first”. Those words echoed in my ears, as would other aphorisms uttered by her.

Yesterday, she received news that a dear friend of hers, also on dialysis, had passed away. She was downtrodden for the rest of the day. I wish I know the right words to say. But clinging as she is to her aforesaid ‘Numero Uno’ motto, I’m confident she would choose not to dwell on her misery. These days, health is not something she would trifle with.

This Mother’s Day, I would like to express my gratitude and affection to Mama, as epitomized in the many hats that she wears – the selfless Matriarch, the great Cook, the devoted Wife, the obedient Daughter, the loving Grandma. I love you Mama and so do your other children whom in emulating you (save for Shol), have elected to call ourselves ‘Mama’ as well!

Happy Mother’s Day (or Moederdag in Dutch) to all the mothers – fledgling, full-fledged and veteran – out there!