Touching Stories to Share II
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Hi Cool-gal, I suppose u are asking about my earlier thread, which had just expired recently?Originally posted by Cool-gal:hi TS, is ter a part I to ur touching stories?
Touching Stories to Share -
very nice, tears dripping already.
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Yes!! this is it...Originally posted by babymac13:Hi Cool-gal, I suppose u are asking about my earlier thread, which had just expired recently?
Touching Stories to Share
thanks..
and pls, keep it going...
so nice tat i forward it as email to my frenz... -
i wish u could keep this thread going...
i like ur storys
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more pls..
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nice stories...
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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
i need more storys...
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I got 4 words to say:
too long didnt read. -
Originally posted by the.owl:I got 4 words to say:
too long didnt read. -
sigh....i am bored...
y no more storys?
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I'll love to say a huge thank you.
And please keep them coming
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my friends like ur storys too...
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Sorry to keep you guys waiting, here is a story about mother's love which we always take it for granted.
The White Gardenia By Marsha Arons
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Every year on my birthday, from the time I turned 12, one white gardenia was delivered anonymously to me at my house. There was never a card or note, and calls to the florist were in vain because the purchase was always made in cash. After a while, I stopped trying to discover the identity of the sender. I just delighted in the beauty and heady perfume of that one magical, perfect white flower nestled in folds of soft pink tissue paper.
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But I never stopped imagining who the sender might be. Some of my happiest moments were spent in daydreams about someone wonderful and exciting, but too shy or eccentric to make known his or her identity. In my teen years, it was fun to speculate that the sender might be a boy I had a crush on, or even someone I didn't know who had noticed me.
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My mother often contributed to my speculations. She'd ask me if there was someone for whom I had done a special kindness, who might be showing
appreciation anonymously. She reminded me of the times when I'd been riding my bike and our neighbor drove up with her car full of groceries
and children. I always helped her unload the car and made sure the children didn't run into the road. Or maybe the mystery sender was the old
man across the street. I often retrieved his mail during the winter, so he wouldn't have to venture down his icy steps.
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My mother did her best to foster my imagination about the gardenia. She wanted her children to be creative. She also wanted us to feel cherished
and loved, not just by her, but by the world at large.
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When I was 17, a boy broke my heart. The night he called for the last time, I cried myself to sleep. When I awoke in the morning, there was a
message scribbled on my mirror in red lipstick: "Heartily know, when half-gods go, the gods arrive."
I thought about that quotation from Emerson for a long time, and I left it where my mother had
written it until my heart healed. When I finally went for the glass cleaner, my mother knew everything was all right again.
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But there were some hurts my mother couldn't heal. A month before my high school graduation, my father died suddenly of a heart attack. My feelings ranged from simple grief to abandonment, fear, distrust and overwhelming anger that my dad
was missing some of the most important events in my life. I became completely uninterested in my upcoming graduation, the senior-class play and the prom - events that I had worked on and looked forward to. I even considered staying home to attend college instead of going away as I had
planned because it felt safer.
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My mother, in the midst of her own grief,wouldn't hear of me missing out on any of these things. The day before my father died, she and I had gone
shopping for a prom dress and had found a spectacular one - yards and yards of dotted
Swiss in red, white and blue. Wearing it made me feel like Scarlett O'Hara. But it was the wrong
size, and when my father died the next day, I forgot all about the dress.
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My mother didn't. The day before the prom, I found that dress waiting for me - in the right size. It was draped majestically over the living room sofa, presented to me artistically and lovingly. I may not have cared about having a new dress, but my mother did.
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She cared how we children felt about ourselves. She imbued us with a sense of the magic in the world, and she gave us the ability to see beauty even in the face of adversity.
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In truth, my mother wanted her children to see themselves much like the gardenia - lovely, strong, perfect, with an aura of magic and perhaps a bit of mystery.
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> My mother died when I was 22, only 10 days after I was married. That was the year the gardenias stopped coming. -
Live life without regrets
The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around
when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.
She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug? "
I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze.
"Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age? " I asked.
She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel."
"No seriously" I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
"I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!" she told me.
After class we walked to the student union building and shared chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk non-stop. I was always mesmerised
listening to this "time machine" as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and sherevelled in the
attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and
stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little
embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said,
"I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whisky is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just
tell you what I know."
As we laughed she cleared her throat and began,
"We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy and
achieving success. You have to laugh and find humour every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it! There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.
If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old.
If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight. Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity to change.
Have no regrets. The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do.
The only people who fear death are those with regrets."
She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose.":
She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives. At the years end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago.
One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.
Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.
When you finish reading this, please send this peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they'll really enjoy it!
These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.
Remember, growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional. -
Thanks for your continous support.Originally posted by alvin-ncs:AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
i need more storys...
Appreciated.
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Thats very motivational Thanks a lot .
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Part IIOriginally posted by LinYu:New Story
Xiao Li married Prof Lee 3 years ago because she found him to be steady and stable person. She alway finds that he is a person she can relied on whenever she needs.
But as times goes by, Xiao Li finds that his husband is a pretty boring and unromantic person so one day she pluck up some courage and told him."Let get seperated". Prof Lee was shock but did not said a thing. This made Xiao Li angry as she finds the Prof Lee did not attempt to retain her.
Prof Lee sat on the sofa smoking his cigarettes thinking. Finally he said "What can I do to make you stay?" Xiao Li said, "OK, I will ask you a question. If the answer is satisfactory, I may consider to stay. Here is the question. Will you attempt to retrieve a flower on a dangerous cliff if I request, even if you know that you may fall to death?"
Prof Lee thought as said that he will give her an answer tomorrow. This made Xiao Li even angrier and turned her heart cold. Next morning, when Xiao Li woke up, she found her husband missing but left a glass of warm milk and a note on the table. The note had this written.
"Regarding your question on retriving the flower, I will not do it." When Xiao Li read that, she became angry and felt that their relationship was hopeless. She continued to read the note.
"Please listen to my reasons. I need my hands to help you to correct your typing and coding. I need my legs to help to retrieve the keys when you forget to bring them. I need my eyes to help you to see whenever you lost your directions in the city. I need my ears to listen to your complaints whenever you need someone to listen. Unless there is someone who love you more than I did, I will defintely retrieve the flower you want. If you still need me, I will be waiting outside the door, buying you your favourite milk bread."
After reading the note, Xiao Li tears rolls down her cheek and rushed to the door and opened it. Prof Lee was standing outside the door holding a packet of milk bread and playing with his hand like a lost child.
Xiao Li screamed a loud "WA KUA TIO GUI(I SAW A GHOST)! I HIRED GANGSTER KILL U YESTERDAY WITH A KNIFE! WHAT U DOING HERE" Professor Li simply smiled mysteriously, dropped the milk bread and drew a shotgun.
"MY DEAR XIAO LI. YESSS THEY TRIED TO ASSASINATE MI WHEN I PANGSAI ON TOILET AT 4AM LAST NIGHT. BUT U FORGET 1 THING. I METAL-MAN!" Professor Li screamed as he unzipped his pants to reveal a metal crotch, or much rather, a steel rod. "I GONNA F*** YOU WIT THIS GUN ARRR"
Xiao Li screamed and reached for her lightsaber, but before her hand even touched the hilt, professor li pull the shotgun's trigger and dismembered her arm.
"AHHHHHHHHH...."Xiao Li screamed, as blood from her shoulder spurted onto professor li.
"AHHHHHHHHH..." Professor Li screamed, as blood landed on his shoulder, rusting it to nothingness with immediate efficiency.
"AHHHHHHHHH...." screamed Postman pat who suddenly appeared with a DHL delivery parcel.
suddenly there was aloud sound. BANG as a nuclear missle hit the earth, exploding anything and everything in its path of lateral destruction.
"AHHHHHHHH...." they all screamed as they exploded into nothingness.
the end. tralalaa -
A real good story for everyone out there.........
Part I
A YEAR AGO today, I had lunch with my boyfriend and took the opportunity to complain to him.
"Today is Valentine's Day. Why didn't you give me any flowers?"
He raised his eyebrow. "Why should I give you flowers? You are not my anyone."
"Then... you should at least give me a card!" I pouted my lips, hurt by his tone.
"I know, I know. After lunch, I'll send you an e-card."
"E-card??"
That sounds so impersonal, but that's the way he is.
"You have to e-mail it to me. I'll be waiting." I excitedly smiled and planned to sneak home after lunch to check e-mail. Even though he wouldn't use any romantic words, I still looked forward to the ca! rd.
"I'm going back to work. Hurry and send me the card!"
As soon as I walked in my door, I turned on my computer and got online.
Staring at the empty inbox, I began to reminisce about how we met. Maybe no one will believe me, but my boyfriend and I were actually neighbors. Our homes were only 1 wall away. Ever since we were kids, we liked to fight with each other all day long.
We were only neighbors. At that time, I hated my parents for making us live next to him.
At that time, I had a crush on a senior. After a while, I found out that the senior student had lots of girlfriends. When I cried about it, he silently passed me a handkerchief and awkwardly held me in his arms.
"I told you he wasn't any good." He roughly comforted me.
I cried in his arms the whole night, and began to see him in a different way. Things began to change between us. We still fought all the time, but he started to look at me differently. And I blushed and my heart beat faster when he was near. We both knew: we fell in love with each other. Even with this knowledge, neither of us said anything. Even though we would not be able to resist and kissed each other constantly. Even though we cared about each other's every moves.
Both of us refused to admit our love. -
Part II
Alright, we became lovers, but we still wouldn't say we loved each other. We didn't even spend Valentine's Day together until he saw me share dinner with a man one Valentine's Day.
That night, he waited for me in front of my door and said that he would take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day from then on. I have to say that he was very arrogant.
But I nodded and accepted his request. Since then, we spent every Valentine's Day together.
On the surface, we may have left each other. But in reality, we were still together. We spent every Valentine's Day together but each year became more dreary than the next because he never told me he loved me even with all my hints.
Still facing the empty inbox, I suddenly grew very angry. He wouldn't say it and wouldn't send me a card. What did he mean? Who did he think I was? I called his cell phone.
"Hello." He picked up the phone.
"I didn't receive the card." I immediately showed my displeasure.
"You didn't receive it?" He seemed really busy. "But I sent it."
He was really busy but I didn't care. "I didn't receive it. Send it again."
"Okay, I'll send you 100 times. Is that good enough??" He said with impatience. His tone further infuriated me. Is that how lovers speak to each other?
"Don't bother sending it to me. And you don't have to pick me up tonight. I'll eat dinner by myself."
"Don't be childish, ok? I'm really busy."
"I AM childish!" I hung up the phone and tears rolled down my cheeks.
Childish?? Why didn't he consider the situation? We've gone out for so many years and spent countless Valentine's Day together. I never received any flowers nor cards from him. Now, I just want a little e-card. Is that too much to ask for??
I unplugged the phone from the wall and turned off my cell phone. I didn't want to hear his explanations. After I returned to the hospital, I instructed the receptionist not to forward me any phone calls. I wanted to concentrate on work.
Because there were so many emergencies today, I was sweating 1 hour later and forgot about our argument.
"Dr. Shu, please take a look at that patient."
As I was collecting my equipment, the shrill sound of an ambulance sounded outside the ER. When I stepped out the door, the emergency medics hurriedly wheeled in a gurney.
"What happened to him?" I asked the 1st medic. Everyone else were trying to help put the patient on the gurney. He was covered with blood.
"Car accident." The medic replied. "Very serious. He may die."
I nodded and ran to the operating room with them. When I arrived, the nurses told me that the man had already stopped breathing and also his heartbeat also stopped.
"Prepare for shock." I calmly instructed the nurses. Saving people is our duty. We can't and shouldn't lose our calm.
But when I saw who laid on the operating table, I lost my calm. That person was my BOYFRIEND!
"NO..." I stood in shock. "NO!!!" I grabbed the paddles and continuously shocked his body. His body bounced up and down from the shocks. The scared nurses went to find another doctor, to tell him that was crazy.
I didn't know if I was crazy or not. I just wanted to save my lover. Even though we fought all the time. Even though he never showed me his love. I still wanted to save him. He still owed me a card. He couldn't die! I threw away the paddles and began to press on his heart. I pressed with all my strength, hoping it would revive him, but he didn't wake up. He didn't even say "It hurts". He just laid there with his eyes closed, punishing me with his silence.
Dr. Jian angrily pushed me away. By that time, I couldn't see clearly anymore. I cried. I wailed. I bowled until no sounds could come out of my mouth.
"It's too late, Dr. Shu. He's already dead. I'm sorry." Dr. Jian patted me on the shoulder. They knew each other and ate together once. I introduced them. "He can't die." I shook my head. "He can't die!!" I struggled to run to him.
"Dr. SHU, control yourself!" Dr. Jian slapped me. "I understand what you're going through, but you're a doctor."
Yes, I'm a doctor, but I'm also a regular person. How can Dr. Jian understand how I feel? I've loved him for so many years that it's become a habit. How can I just throw away a habit?
Besides, he still owed me a card.
"I want him to live! I want him to live!" I ran to him again and tried to knock the life back into his body.
"Take her away!" That day, I lost my control and my professionalism.
And that day happened to be Valentine's Day.
Afterwards, I asked his co-workers why he left work early that day.
They told me that after I hung up the phone, he tried to call me several times but couldn't reach me. Worried, he drove to the hospital to find me and got hit by a large truck on the way. When I heard this, I froze. My tantrum killed him. Just because of an unmailed card, he died. After that, I lost my privilege to be childish. Like an abandoned cat, I couldn't even cry anymore. After his death, I couldn't cry anymore, regardless of how touching the plot or how tear-jerking the dialogue. They didn't affect me anymore.
I turned on computer after a year later, even though I know no one will send me a mail, I still hoped that someone will remember me on this day.
GOSH....I have.... 100 emails! Who would be bored enough to send me 100 junk mail?
I was just about to delete them all when I received another mail, and this one said: "Because of system error, we could not send these until today. We apologize for the delay." The sender was my BOYFRIEND!!!
I looked at the 1st mail. It showed the send date is last year's Valentine's Day. My heart began to beat fast. Could he have sent these?
With a trembling hand, I opened the mail. The first thing that popped up was a gorgeous red rose set against green leaves. Then a beautiful melody began to play...."Only Love". I couldn't believe it. The rose was so beautiful and the music was so dreamy. I almost thought I was in a fantasy. Most touching of all were the words underneath the rose, because the words read like a beautiful poem.
"Only love can make a memory.
Only love can make a moment last.
You were there and all the world was young
and all it's songs unsung.
and I remember you then when love was all,
all you were living for, and how you gave that love to me...."
The lyrics of this song fits our love so closely. When he was alive,my world was so young.
Every day, I could find a something different to fight with him about. But after he left, my life is only left with memories and coldness that will never go away.When I read these words, my tears unconsciously came, wetting the keyboard.
I replied 100 times, and "Only Love" played 100 times. In this cold Valentine's night, the line that's been broken for LAST ONE YEAR finally got RECONNECTED. -
very touching lei...
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too long didnt read.
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Promise of Love
From the very Beginning, Gal's family objected strongly on her dating with this guy. Saying that it has got to do with family background, & that the gal will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be with him.
Due to family's pressure, the couple quarrel very often. Tho the gal love the guy deeply, but she always ask him: "How deep is your love for me?"
As the guy is not good with his words, this often cause the gal to be very upset. With that & the family's pressure, the gal often vent her anger on him. As for him,.. he only endure it in silence. After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated & decided to further his studies in overseas.
Before leaving, he proposed to the gal: "I'm not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family, I'll try my best to talk them round. Will you marry me?"
The gal agreed, & with the guy's determination, the family finally gave in & agreed to let them get married. So before he leave, they got engaged.
The gal went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love thru emails & phone calls. tho it's hard, but both never thot of giving up.
One day, while the gal was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. when she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realised that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sigh. She has lost her voice....
The doctors says that the impact on her brain has caused her to lose her voice. Listening to her parents' comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down. During the stay in hospital, besides silence cry, it's still just a silence cry that accompanied her.
Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart everytime it rang.
She does not wish to let the guy know. & not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.
With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent millions & millions of reply, countless of phonecalls, all the gal could do, besides crying, is still crying.... The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything & be happy.
With a new environment, the gal learn sign language & started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her fren came & told her that he's back. She asked her fren not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn't anymore news of him.
A year has passed & her fren came with an envelope, containing an invitation card for the guy's wedding. The gal was shattered. When she open the letter, she saw her name in it instead. When she was about to ask her fren wat's going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her.
He used sign language telling her "I've spent a year's time to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I've not forgotten our promise. Let me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You."
With that, he slipped the ring back into her finger.
The gal finally smiled. -
Another story for the week
THE CAB RIDE
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Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.
When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.
But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door.
This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.
So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.
After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.
By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.
She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.
"It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".
"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.
When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"
"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.
"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".
I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.
"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture
warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.
Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.
"Nothing," I said.
"You have to make a living," she answered.
"There are other passengers," I responded.
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."
I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut.
It was the sound of the closing of a life.
I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.
What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?
What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?
On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.
But great moments often catch us unaware--beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL. -
Remember to stay tune for a love story of Our late president of Mr and Mrs Ong Teng Cheong.
Coming Soon -
His touching words of farewell.
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In a last farewell to his wife that touched many people and caused quite a few to shed tears, President Ong Teng Cheong remembers the Shanghai girl who became the First Lady.
" HERE lies a girl who came from an orphanage in Shanghai 50 years ago. She arrived in Singapore at the age of 11, speaking only Shanghainese and
owning scarcely more than the clothes on her back.
But she rose far above her humble beginnings to run a successful architectural practice, and to eventually play the role of the First Lady of Singapore. But the route from the orphanage to the Istana was not all-smooth sailing.
While in the orphanage, she was struck by rheumatic fever. But she was then too young to realise the gravity of her illness. One of her heart valves was permanently damaged as a result. Doctors who examined her while she was in school in Singapore discovered it, and exempted her from all school sporting activities.
The disease struck again while she was in the final year of her Architecture degree course, and she had to be warded in hospital for "complete rest in bed" for three months.
A quiet and determined girl, she refused to tell her parents or anyone of her problem. She learnt to play the piano for only a few years, but was
frustrated that her fingers were not growing long enough to allow her to play the octaves. She decided to give it up. But she always loved the
piano.
Tireless and dedicated almost to a fault, her only hobby was work - work in the office and work at home, including sewing and gardening. In her younger days, she used to sew her own dresses, including cheongsams.
When asked how she did it, she would quote: "Reverse engineering."
She would unpick old dresses, and use the piece as a dress pattern to follow.
Siew May gave the Ong family two sons. The first son was a breech baby,while the younger son was delivered by Caesarian section. Both deliveries
needed operations and required heart specialists to be present. We decided to stop at two, because I did not want her to take any unnecessary risk.
I knew she would have loved to have more children, especially girls.
Happily, this was compensated for by the two lovely daughters-in-law we now have in the family. She was a wonderful and loving mother. Although she could neither swim nor cycle, she taught both Guan and Boon to swim and cycle. And as she worked long hours at the office, she even taught them how to cook their own lunches, when they were in primary and secondary schools.
We did not have a maid in the house for several years in the late '70s and early '80s. She wanted everyone in the family to be as independent as she
was. But she was, in every way, a devoted mother and a supportive wife, and performed her multiple roles with equal dedication.
When I first met her at a party, she was only 15. She was an attractive and lively girl. It was not long before I discovered that she was a thrifty and highly principled girl as well. We began dating each other. Often we would meet in coffeeshops.
Whenever we had lunch, she would insist on paying for her own lunch. Her argument was that her father gave her pocket money that was for her use
only and that my father gave me pocket money that was for my use. So we should pay for our own lunches.
At first, I tried to persuade her otherwise, but after two lunches, during which she stood her ground, I realised that it was futile to argue any
further and we subsequently just went Dutch every time we met for lunch.
It was the simple things that gave us the greatest joy. We were happiest just chit-chatting with each other, and whenever we had family gatherings.
Occasionally, when Siew May and I were alone, we would recite Chinese poetry and verses which we had learnt and memorised together in our younger days.
Our grandson, Justin, was her real bundle of joy. She would look for him first thing in the morning, and as soon as she came home from work.
It was an unfortunate twist of fate that she had to suffer from a horrible disease at a time when she was about to relax and enjoy her retirement. She bravely fought the disease for 20 odd years.
She fought several good battles, but the last one was swift and fatal.
She was peaceful in her final hours.
Today, I wish to quote one of our favourite quotations from Su Dong Bo (the Song dynasty poet). He said that to part is inevitable. But in the simple but poignant words of Bai Ju Yi (the Tang dynasty poet), the loss is an eternal pain.
We took pride that we had led a clean and honest life, and had taken our marriage vows seriously - we had been husband and wife for better or for
worse, till death did us part.
Good bye, Siew May. We love you. "