ode to ah ma

Today is my maternal grandma's (referred to affectionately as 'Ah Ma') first death anniversary. I began writing this ode to her shortly after she passed away, but never got round to finishing it. Here it is now, one year after she left us (Ah Ma, please forgive the lateness) and not very well written in my opinion, but at the very least, it comes from my heart...

Ah Ma looked after me from when I was a baby till I was 12 years old. I would stay at her house on weekdays and go home only on weekends. Among all her grandchildren, I spent the most time with her and that time was always precious and beautiful.

I remember with fondness how she would pick me up from PAP Kindergarten and we would pass the provision shop selling Kaka, my favourite childhood snack. I always clamoured for it and she, like any good grandmother concerned for her grandchildren's health, would buy a pack for me only once a week. I will never forget those Kaka moments of sheer delight and joy. Kaka is merely a $0.30 pack of flavoured corn snacks, but to me then, it was truly a little piece of heaven. Ah Ma knew that and was more than happy to indulge me, albeit once a week (ok actually sometimes more often, but only if I was good). Kaka was not the only thing she rationed; Myojo chicken flavoured instant noodles was the other thing I absolutely loved. I would request for it ever so often and unlike the Kaka, was strictly permitted only one portion a week. Ah Ma would cook the noodles with tender loving care and drop a beautiful egg in them. Oh how absolutely delicious they tasted! The other things I will miss are her popiah, fried chicken wings, fried wanton, fried oyster (without the oyster :P) and super fragrant Nonya dumplings which she used to make by the hundreds in time for the Dumpling Festival. Whatever Ah Ma cooked always tasted good as she put all her love into it (even if it was only instant noodles!), and that is how I hope to cook and bake for the rest of my life.

The one thing about Ah Ma that touched our lives was how she was always thinking about others. Even though she was Taoist, she requested for Buddhist funeral rites as the latter would be a lot less noisy and thus cause less disturbance to neighbours during the wake. When I visited her in hospital on Christmas day, the first thing she said to me was "Merry Christmas" with a smile, trying to appear cheerful so her visitors wouldn't be saddened by her frail and sickened state. She also asked my aunt to buy Kit Kat bars for the nurses as a little token for working so hard, plus a cake for Christmas as they were slaving through a public holiday. Being the sort of person who didn't like to trouble or inconvenience others, she felt bad for having spoilt our plans to have a Christmas gathering. But really, there wasn't a need to. You don't fall sick on purpose and get admitted to hospital voluntarily. Ah Ma was just being considerate.

While Ah Ma was in hospital, she was approached by a young medical officer who wanted to conduct on her, of all things, a HIV test! I do not know the specific details of this, save that it was 'a requirement' and that he was merely following orders. My aunt thought it was ridiculous (and of course it is!) that a HIV test was a requirement for an 80 year old woman and protested vehemently, but Ah Ma, even in her condition, was kind enough to want to grant the young greenhorn his request as she felt he was "so poor thing, give him chance lah". My aunt managed to get her out of it in the end. This incident will always be for us, an amusing and poignant memory.

Ah Ma showed us how to love. She was always gentle, always tender, always kind. Once when I stayed over at her house and she woke up in the wee hours of the morning to discover me working on an essay, she heated up some essence of chicken for me instead of going back to sleep. I guess she realised I wouldn't listen to her telling me to go to bed, so she did the next best thing - help me stay awake. I was really touched.

Even when we were all grown up, Ah Ma liked to dish out food for us during meals at her house - something we should be doing for her instead. My aunts would then chide her for spoiling us and she would smile quietly and go back to eating her own food. I think Ah Ma couldn't help herself. It was in her nature to do things for others. It made her happy.

When I broke down in front of her in hospital saying sorry for not visiting her enough, she shook her head, said she didn't mind at all and used her cold, frail hands to wipe away the tears from my cheeks. She told me not to cry as it would make her even more sad. I was very moved and it took me a long time to stop crying and collect myself before I could leave the hospital in a calm state. Even at her weakest, Ah Ma did not display the needy symptoms that many patients exhibit. She wanted to ease our hearts more than we wanted to comfort her.

Ah Ma had quite a cute sense of humour. I loved ketchup as a child (and I still do) and would always mix my fried rice with it till the rice turned red. She was frequently amused by this and always joked that she should give me a bottle of Maggi ketchup for my birthday. I guess I wouldn't have minded, but of course she never did that. I just got to have all the ketchup I wanted whenever she cooked fried rice or chicken wings. When I had my first asymmetrical haircut, she looked at me and said, "Why, you don't have enough money to cut the other (longer) side is it?" I had to explain to her that I wanted it cut this way and her reply to that was an amused "so funny".

One of the greatest things my extended family and I will remember Ah Ma for is that she was, unarguably, the unifying force in the family. Every few weeks, we would all gather at her home for a big homecooked meal, usually because she had to cook to offer food for some Taoist festival or to commemorate the death anniversary of our ancestors. She never imposed her beliefs on us, choosing instead to ensure that we were happily fed. Shortly before she passed away, she instructed my eldest uncle to keep up with and initiate these gatherings. I am happy to note that our family is still meeting on public holidays and important festive occasions, except that instead of Ah Ma cooking, every family now contributes at least one dish. No repeats are allowed in order to encourage us to improve on our culinary skills. I know Ah Ma would definitely approve!

I remember Ah Ma for all the above and thank God for His gift of her to us. I know the best way to celebrate her life would be to live out all that she stood for and to love as she had loved. So here's to the best grandma in the world... Ah Ma, you will live in our hearts forever!