Confessions of a Drama Mama

The other day at the hospital having lunch with my parents after visiting Ah Ma, my mother said out of the blue, ‘It’s sad to be an orphan isn’t it?’.

There are several words that people tend to avoid when a loved one is in the hospital. "Death" is one of them. "Funeral". But "orphan" never seemed to be on the list. It’s funny how people often associate the word ‘orphan’ with kids who lost their parents in a tragic ski accident in Whistler. Very Sweet Valley High. But Webster’s dictionary defines it as "one who has lost one or both parents to death".

This morning my dad sms-ed at 630am to tell us that Ah Ma had passed away. Then max and I stayed awake and talked a bit cos we couldn’t fall asleep. It’s funny how I feel. I can’t describe it. If I said I’m sad, that would borderline on hypocrisy. If I’m not sad, then I would feel guilty about being so. I guess ‘dazed’ is a good word.

I learnt that one can never feel numb about death. It hits you in different ways. I remember when ah kong passed away, I wished I could have kept that little piece of cloth pinned on my sleeve so that I wouldn’t have to explain the sober colours or why I’m not my usual chirpy self. Sometimes people are not too sensitive and ask all kinds of stupid questions. That little piece of cloth will explain so many things without having to say anything. But like at Ah Kong’s wake (which was less than 2 years ago), we all had to leave the cloth behind to recycle for the next person to use.

It is as funerals that you learn many things about your family. You see who steps up to assume responsibility. You see who refuses to partake in any decision making and yet makes the most noise when a mistake is made. You see who tries to make everyone busy by finding fault with everything. You see who doesn’t even bother to show up. People grieve in different ways but I really wonder what kind of grieving includes sitting in a corner plugged into an mp3 player. Anyway. Best to keep one’s mouth shut in such situations.

It is as such situations you find out your relatives real names. That Ah Meng was Ah Beng all along, and why some aunts names do not ‘follow the pattern’. You find out that there are mysterious godsons and goddaughters, but also that no one knows his/her name. And even though you probably have never seen him/her, he/she is supposedly going to be really pissed if he/she isn’t included in the obituary, or spelt wrongly.

Funeral wakes are funny things. You sit around, not knowing what to do, trying to keep busy. Then people come, peer into the coffin, eat some peanuts, drink some water, make small talk about how the deceased passed away, childhood, political situations, anything. You’re busy for a while entertaining them with drinks, peanuts and kueh chee. When the topics run out, everyone stares into space or at the white plastic table cloth. And then they say ‘ok we better make a move’ and you make sure they have their obligatory red string, bid them farewell and clear the table.

Oh well. Better sleep. Tomorrow is another day.

For those of you who would like to know the details, the wake will be held at Block 827A, Tampines St 81, and chut sua day is on National Day at 12pm.

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