This year, I found myself without any shopping to do, no cards to buy, no phone calls to make to my mum to beat around the bush and see if she would let slip a hint as to what she might like. This year, I celebrate Mother's Day for the first time ever, without my mother.
My mum passed away on December 5th, 2010. Her death from cancer was our 3rd that year, all from cancer. She was diagnosed in the fall of 2009, during a hospital admission for a gallstone removal. It was not a gallstone. Her cancer was already terminal when diagnosed, and because of her advanced age, only palliative treatment was recommended. In other words, her oncologist basically told me and my siblings to enjoy what time we had left with our mother and brace for what was to come.
My mum was a good-hearted woman, who always put the best interests of her children first. I learned how to raise my own children from my memories of how she raised me and my siblings. One example is how we always sat at the table to have dinner as a family. My husband and I do this with our children daily, no matter how rushed we are, how late it is, or how simple or elaborate the meal. Dinner time is family time.
She taught me to stand up for myself, know right from wrong, and to value education. She never had the chance to finish her secondary school, having to quit school early at 14 so she could help earn some wages to support her mother and sister (her father died when she was 2). This allowed her younger sister, my aunt, to stay in school. Being the eldest, she said, such sacrifices were common. Education, she maintained, would give us women our confidence and the tools necessary to build our own future, regardless of the men we married.
I am happy that my mum did get to become a grandmother (to my 2 children). I know that being a granny made her very happy, which in turn, makes me happy.
Happy Mother's Day, Mi (short for Mummy - what my siblings and I call her) and I miss you everyday. We hope you enjoy your heavenly dim sum up there as you watch over us. I love you.
Your Loving Daughter,
Aikwan
