Justanothernewstory

When I became a mother with the birth of my first-born, Amelia, I had anticipated the day when I would become a mother-in-law. That's when my daughter marries. Well, that day has come and gone. The wedding dinner is over and we have left the young couple to spend their "first" night as an officially married couple in the hotel suite that came as part of the wedding dinner package. Dad -- well my husband actually although over the years he has become "dad" to everyone, including the dog and the parrot -- and I are savouring the reality that another milestone in life's journey has been reached. We are in-laws even as we have parents in law.


With Amelia gone, there are two more to go, Joey who has completed his NS and waiting to go to university and Teresa, the baby who is mid-way through JC. We will be hosting (or co-hosting as is more likely nowadays with both sets of parents throwing one joint wedding bash) another two wedding dinners within the next 10 years-- at latest. My children are the marrying kind. Their parents never gave the government grieve by overstaying their singlehood.



I was reflecting thus as well as talking about these possibilities aloud even as Dad, oh well Kim Hong to give him his proper name, was driving us home, parking the car, collecting the odds and ends from the boot to take upstairs to the flat. Joey and Teresa were travelling in another car.



"Will you open the door?" Dad asked, even as I had just slipped the key into the key-hole.
"Done!" I chirruped, feeling in the best of mood. I like achieving my goals and seeing my eldest become a Mrs, even though there is something of a shot-gun element to it, is definitely something of an achievement.



"Dad, why so quiet?"



"Dora, it's been a long day! Anyway, what's there for me to say when you are quite happy talking away all the time."



"Oh dear! I didn't give you a chance to speak at the dinner with the cheeng-gay? Sorry lah. But you are so quiet all the time I'm afraid they may think something's wrong."



"Well something's wrong!"



"Excuse me? What do you mean? Are you feeling unwe..."



"Dora, gimme a chance to say something for a change."



He put down the stuff he



Dad went to the writing table and opening a side draw searched among the papers. I was puzzled.
"What are you looking for so late? Isn't it time we go to bed?"
No answer. Then he straightened his back. He retrieved a thickish envelope and turned to me, saying: "For you. Read it after I leave."
"Leave... what what..where"
He left the envelope on the table and was already out of the room.
I grabbed the envelope and went after him but his brisk and huge strides had already taken him to the front door which he opened.
"What's going on? Where are you going at this time of the night?" I shouted. I was puzzled and annoyed at this strange turn of events. It's not like Kim Hong to do unexpected things and this letter and walking out are completely out of character and I know him so well that I can say this with complete confidence
But I was talking to myself. He was out the door and gone. Not bothering to wait for the lift, he had taken the fire-escape stairs. I was left to fume. And yes, I had the letter whose envelope I tore open. There were some 10-plus pages. Neatly handwritten in red ball-point pen.

He was full of praise of me and fulsome in apologising for his behaviour. I've been a good, no excellent, wife, mother, daughter-in-law, citizen, career woman, friend, Roman Catholic etc etc. I have done everything that I should in those roles and more, he wrote. The problem was with him, just him. He was an undeserving wretch, he declared, who while appreciating all I had contributed and still could contribute to his well-being and happiness nevertheless chose to dump it all.

He claimed not to know why. Perverse perhaps. He just needed to leave. He said he had been wanting to, oh for years and years. (He sure had a way of shoving in the knife and twisting it now! Have I been so blind or insensitive not to have picked up the bad vibes?) But he just couldn't find the courage to up sticks. He postponed his departure time and again. He set his dates. He'd do it when Amelia finished her JC. Then it was until after Joey had completed his. Then it was until after Teresa had done hers. Each time, hoping that one child after the other won't go to JC and he'd be off the hook for that one. Each time he was disappointed. The thought of Teresa having one more year to go became unbearable for him. He set himself a new exit target: after Amelia's wedding. She didn't let him down by leaving the groom at the altar. How could she, with the bun already in the oven?

I would have analysed what Kim Hong had to say further if not for the two younger children returning home at that time. Joey was surprised to find that I hadn't gone to bed yet and with so many lights still on in the apartment. Teresa was more interested in going to her own room but I stopped her, even as I answered Joey's question:"Mum do you know the time?"
"I certainly do. And I'm up --Teresa just a moment, young lady -- because your father has left us!"
"What are you talking about?" Teresa snapped, rudely as usual. Youngest, pet of the family. Dad had indulged her and I did too to a certain extent, letting her talk back and pass personal comments on her elders with little check. In any case, it wasn't worthwhile trying to make her behave, as unlike the older two, the littlest scolding used to send her into tantrums that saw her banging her head against the wall and frightening me and Kim Hong dead in our tracks. We both said she would change as she grew older. Indeed she did. No more tantrums but her manners didn't improve much. It was just a matter of us accommodating her, excusing her: Well, she would grow out of it when she went to school, college, work etc

Joey was the opposite. He was all concern. But then again, he had been like since he was a little boy, the epitome of the Chinese saying "Three years is the making of the octogenariam".

And true to Joey's caring nature, his arms were around me as he asked:"Mum, are you all right? Sit down. Let me get you a drink." All the while he was making faces at his sister to get her to realise that I needed loving care, not sassiness. And of course, Teresa, the spoilt brat that she was didn't like what he was doing.And true to Joey's caring nature, his arms were around me as he asked:"Mum, are you all right? Sit down. Let me get you a drink." All the while he was making faces at his sister to get her to realise that I needed loving care, not sassiness. And of course, Teresa, the spoilt brat that she was didn't like what he was doing.And true to Joey's caring nature, his arms were around me as he asked:"Mum, are you all right? Sit down. Let me get you a drink." All the while he was making faces at his sister to get her to realise that I needed loving care, not sassiness. And of course, Teresa, the spoilt brat that she was didn't like what he was doing."Why are you making faces at me," she demanded, even as her brother desperately tried to get me to sit down. But then, tact was, and probably never will be Teresa's strongest point."Look young lady, mum is very upset," Joey retorted."So, what's new?""You little bi...."

"Darlings, don't!" I cried. Yes, tears welled up in my eyes. While my body was deadly tired, my mind was firing on several engines. Joey could both see and sense the trauma -- and drama -- I was going through. But not the youngest."What did you do to make Dad so upset that he did the ultimate?" she demanded."Hey give mum a chance," he brother yelled.I pushed the wad of of pages I was still clutching into Joey's hands."Read," I commanded between sobs which came uncontrollably.