Grandma...10 years on

There is a saying that "it takes a village to raise a child". I think this applies to me quite literally. I know it may sound as if I had an unsettled childhood...but on the contrary, I had one of the most enriching upbringing ever.

Mak and Abah worked, and back then, it was quite rare for a Malay woman not to be a full-time housewife. And back in the pre-maid days, I guess I was 'thrown around' pretty much...fortunately, there were always someone around to 'catch'.

My mum had a whole army of every-ready babysitters and care-givers.(hehehe...maybe I was really such an adorable child). My earliest memories revolve around my Waks...a pool of my mum's elder sisters. Their houses were small and cramped, but I was always welcomed and loved. I remember how syiok it was to take a morning bath from the icy-cold well-water in a kampung in Bukit Panjang, or getting up early in the morning to 'chope' the first durian that fell from the tree in Mandai...or playing hide-n-seek under the stilted wooden houses and hiding in chicken coops in Kg Pasiran.

Those were the wonderful, carefree days I had frowing up with my cousins...climbing trees and attap roofs...looking for fighting spiders, and playing in drains...or the fun we had splashing in puddles in the rain...

Oh I had the 'luxuries' too...when I would be whisked away by Nek Tor and Cik Yam...for treats like milkshakes at Red House (an old ice-cream parlour), movies at Odean or trips to Van Kleef Aquarium...and I think I was really spoilt silly with the endless gifts I received...(hehehe..my head is indeed growing bigger...I must have been really, really,really lovable).

But it took Nenek ( my real grandma)to peg me down. Really, as someone who had lots and lots of grandchildren (35 in all), she really could not have favourites. So she treated all of us equally...strict and firm...and seldom did we get a chance to be 'manja' with her. But did it mean that she loved us any less?

The more I think of it, the more I understand the extent of her sacrifice and love for her family. I could not understand why I couldn't snuggle up to her, or get a cuddle when I wanted one for she was not outwardly affectionate. Like I said before, she was a formidable woman, and many a time, I had thought of her as being cold and tough.

But now I remember...
The time when I was down with chickenpox, and how she prepared daily for a week, a foul-smelling concoction which she would smear all over so that the marks will not turn to scars.

The time she stayed up at night with me when I ran a high fever, and she insisted on giving me baths several times to cool me down.

The 5 one cent coins she dug from her worn out purse when I had whined that I never got treats from her..."here...this is the only money I have left...buy the chocolate, and share with your cousins."

The pot of sambal ikan bilis she cooked when I came to visit on weekends...when I had grown much older.


I remember...I remember...
How Nenek was so reluctant to move out of her beloved shophouse, even though her children could support her....
And how...as she aged, she slowly 'lost her identity'...She came down with Alzheimer's Disease...a condition which took away her memories...bit by bit...

She forgot names of people...of places...of time and date...of events...she became like a broken-down tape recorder, and would repeat something she had just said 30 seconds before...It was a challenging time for a lot of people...for it was really trying to have an old lady telling people that she did not know where her children were...and why she was among strangers.

But...but..but...
She never forgot me...she remembered my name...though she could not realise that I had grown up , and had children of my own. She still gently scolded me for not being tidy...or some other thing,...or sometimes chided me for not 'feeding her'.

To the end...
Nenek never forgot me...and for that, I am so happy.
And because of that...I mustered all my courage, and helped out when the final cleansing ritual was done on her...with silent tears streaming down.

Nenek, till today, I will never be able to find someone who can cook the ikan bilis sambal the way you do...and ten years on...I still miss you.
[Al-fatihah for Hjh Jalehah binte Amin...1903 - 1998]