Mama’s remains, ashes and bone fragments, were wrapped up within a red
cloth which was placed in a brown basket. Dad held the basket while we
waited for the boat to arrive to pick us up.
Mama had long ago instructed her children that she wanted a sea burial.
Maybe Dad’s pragmatism came from her. She had said that she did not want to
be a burden to others, not when she was alive and also not when she was dead.
She did not want her descendants to have to go to her crypt or vault at the columbarium
year after year to clean up her “flat” and pay respects to her. She said she
would rather be thrown into the sea and we just kept her in our hearts.
And so we arranged for a sea burial.
The boat was soon ready and we headed out onto the bobbing jetty. Mum
was prone to motion sickness and had already popped anti-motion sickness pills
beforehand. Still she was fidgety and clung on to me when out on the jetty. So
one arm of mine was holding onto her and the other arm of mine was trying to
hold Dad, who claimed he did not need any support at all as he was a fisherman
and used to all the waves and bobbing. (He used to fish a lot out in the open
sea.) Still, he is 72 this year. I was going to hold on to him no matter what
he said or claimed.
We stepped onto the boat and were brought to an NEA-designated area a
short distance off the East Coast area.
When the boat stopped, Celine led us on a short prayer and we sang “Amazing
Grace” again. The guy from Singapore Casket who accompanied us told us that
before we put Mama into the sea. It was customary that we open the red cloth
and touch her and say our goodbyes. And so we did.
We all kept our composure this time round. Though I could see Dad’s
eyes were a little red. It was a little surreal. One day Mama was in human
form, intact and dressed in her sarong kebaya. The next day, she was reduced to
just ashes and fragmented pieces of white powdery bones.
We tied up the cloth again and then made our way to the edge of the
boat. If it weren’t for the sombre nature of the event, it would have been
quite comical. Each of us was trying to balance ourselves. I was supporting
Mum. Adrian was supporting Dad who was clutching onto Mama’s remains. Mum was
calling out to Dad to be careful. Randall was trying to take pictures on Celine’s
camera. Celine was trying to say the last verses of the prayer. And all the
time the boat was still rocking away.
Dad shocked all of us when he decided to lie down on the boat floor instead of squatting. Mum had a huge shock as she thought he was almost falling overboard. She yelled and I shushed her up. Dad finally dipped Mama into the sea water and when the bag was soaked through, he let her go. I did not manage to see her sink into the depths of the waters but I trust it was a peaceful trip down. Maybe some fishes (and plankton?) accompanied her on her journey down to the seabed….
We had loose flowers with us and each of us scattered some flowers into
the sea as well as we bade our final goodbyes to Mama.
We went back into the sheltered area of the boat and sat down again,
chatting while we made our way back to the jetty. It was an excursion of sorts
too I suppose.
We parted ways at the jetty and Adrian dropped Mum and Dad and I at
Bugis. He had to go back to work. I brought Mum and Dad out for lunch and accompanied
them home. I stayed there for the afternoon before making my way back in the evening
to begin my second “job” as a mum….
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