Seeing how my Dad, Adrian and I had always been the first ones to be
Mama’s wake, my Aunt assigned one of my cousins to be the first one instead on
Monday morning.
After getting Little Baby ready for school, I managed to sleep some
more. When I woke though, a sudden overwhelming grief washed over me. I sat on
the edge of the bed and cried. And cried. I tried not to dwell on it too much
though. I still had to get ready to go out. Forced myself to go wash up and
shower. It was 11am or so when I reached the wake.
Being a Monday, there were not many people who came by. The afternoon
still passed quickly though as we chatted amongst ourselves. It was soon 5:30pm.
At 5:40pm, Father Edward Lim from the Holy Trinity Church in Tampines
reached. He conducted his service and by 5:50pm he was done. We got ourselves
ready. 8 of us immediate family members followed behind when staff transported
Mama’s coffin downstairs to the waiting hearse. Dad, Mum, myself, Adrian, Aunt, Uncle, Celine and Randall. The rest of the relatives and
friends, maybe 15 in all, took another lift and waited for us downstairs.
When Mama was brought downstairs, it started to drizzle. The hearse was
blaring out “Amazing Grace”. When her coffin was being placed into the hearse
Aunt and Mum started to cry. I started as well. The staff handed out
umbrellas to all of us. The 8 of us positioned ourselves behind the hearse and
followed it as it slowly drove out.
It was a slow march. Adrian, Dad, Mum had their hand on the hearse. I
couldn’t get a space and left it at that. The drizzle had by now turned into a
downpour. It was as if the sky was shedding its tears for Mama. It was all
quite touching, dramatic and sad at the same time.
We marched for just a little while till we reached the junction leading
out to the main road. Staff said we could stop there and regroup. Those with
cars would meet us at the Mandai crematorium. Those without transport would
take the bus we had chartered. Adrian’s car and K and I were the only two cars following
behind the hearse as a small convoy.
It was raining heavily for the entire journey from Lavender to Mandai.
Adrian later said that Mama’s sending off was so dramatic.
Father Edward was already there in the service hall waiting for us when
we reached. The room was very very cold when we stepped in. It was a quaint and
peaceful room though. Mama was laid in the centre of the front of the room.
Father Edward led his service. I could hear sniffling in the room and tissues
being used. I was tearing myself.
We were instructed to each say our final goodbyes and were each given a
stalk of pink carnation to lay on her coffin. We went one by one in a single
file. I told Mama to rest in peace. I said goodbye to her. I told her to take
care of herself while up there in Heaven. I told her to meet up with Ipoh,
Tuanku and all her other dead relatives while up there.
When I went back to my seat, I saw that Dad was crying. He was
clutching her photograph (the big framed one used for the wake) to his chest and
he was crying. I’d only ever seen him tear up once in my entire life. And that
was a few years ago when Mama had been hospitalised and the doctors told us to
be prepared for the worst. This time round, it was full out crying.
I was upset. I didn’t know how to console him except to sit next to him
and hug him.
We were then told to head to the viewing room. We made our way there. I
followed close behind Dad. K was right behind or beside me all the time as well.
There was a loud silence in the viewing room, despite the more than 20
of us there. Silence broken by the occasional sob, the occasional rustling of
tissue paper. It felt heavy and oppressive. Dad was still holding Mama’s photo
to his chest and he looked at it from time to time. His eyes were red and
teary.
We waited.
5minutes later we saw in the room down below staff placing Mama’s
coffin onto a platform. A minute later the platform bearing her coffin started
moving slowly towards another door, beyond which we would not have sight of. This
really was the final goodbye, the last we would ever see of her.
Dad started crying again. My Aunt cried out loud “Bye Bye Mak Cim (Peranakan
lingo for Mother)! Bye Bye Mama! Bye Bye Ah Chor! Rest in Peace! Bye Bye! Bye
Bye! Pergi carik Ipoh dengan Tuanku! (Go find Ipoh and Tuanku. They were Mama’s
deceaded siblings).”
My distant cousins, Paul and Brenda, who were my granny’s god-son and
god-daughter, also shouted “Bye Bye Kue Mah!”
Most were crying at that point as the platform inched closer to the
door leading to the furnace.
Marc looked a little bewildered. At age 11, I don’t
blame him. I don't think he feels very close to his great-grandmother. He'd never seen his grandparents cry before. And I don’t believe
he had ever been in a situation where most of the adults in the room were
crying. I wonder if he found it overwhelming.
The coffin soon went through the second door and then the door closed.
That was it.
The end of a story 98 years in the making.
We were ushered outside to an area with benches. Adrian was by Dad’s
side this time. He looked like a broken man from behind. Instead of standing tall
and proud like he always did, he looked hunched over. Adrian held Dad and
supported him.
But Dad recovered quickly and being the practical people that my
parents are, he soon started trying to arrange for logistics for a relative who had
no car and had to find his way home.
There was a sudden change in mood. It felt strange. In the viewing room
it felt heavy and oppressive. Once out of there, and as people were walking
out, the mood lifted. I could hear small talk going on and some muted laughter as people huddled around in small groups.
Life goes on I suppose.
We thanked the relatives and went our separate ways from Mandai. K
& I dropped my Aunt off and her two friends before heading home ourselves.
It was still relatively early when we got home around 840pm and I finally got
to spend more time with Little Baby.
