Thank you for the well-wishes and maybe because there were so many of them, that’s why I’m so much better today that I could visit a few of you and be typing here now. Thank you.

I should have posted this yesterday, but I didn’t cos I didn’t want to think too much, tummy too painful to help my brain to function properly.

It was yesterday morning, 4th November, I merely said to Allan as a passing sentence, nothing emotional, in a rather dead tone, “Today is my mother’s birthday.” Without a second thought, he said, “Ok, Let’s go!” It was unexpected. I did not even have that thought in mind. It was just a statement.

My heart was stirred. To some people, its not right. I’m a bad girl, a bad daughter. For those of you who have read My Story, you probably understand a little better for my reaction. But then, I thought, “Its Time. I’m ready for ‘those’ questions from my boys.”

Ever since my aunt passed away earlier this year, I’ve already educated my boys about death. For those of you who think you might have a problem explaining death to your kid, you may want to read how I did it, just for reference purposes.

When we were in the car, Keatkeat asked, “Mommy, where are we going?” “To see my Papa and Mama because today is my Mama’s birthday.” I replied plainly. “Oh, you missed her ah?” he asked naturally. The only reply you could hear was the sound of the car’s engine……

Yes, my boys knew that my parents were dead. But I’ve never brought them to their grave. I merely showed them photos. So this is the first time they ‘met’.

We bought 2 hand-held windmills for my Papa and a bunch of artificial roses for my Mama, its her favourite red roses. They are about 5mins-car-drive away from each other. My Papa was buried while my Mama was cremated.

We stood at my Mama’s ‘condominium’. I asked the boys if they wanted to say, “Happy Birthday Por Por”, Keatkeat did without hesitation. Binbin didn’t want to at first, until just before we left, he said in his husky voice, “Por Por, Happy Birthday.” My kids could have had the chance to speak to her before she died, but I didn’t give them that chance. That’s the most controversial part I guess. That’s another story by itself.

Then we popped over to my Papa’s ‘landed property’ and put down the 2 windmills, one on each side of his tombstone. They said, “Hello, Gong Gong.” before they got themselves busy with making the windmill move, it was a wind-less day. And before they left, it was a happy, “Bye bye Gong Gong!”

And that was it. Those words my boys said to my Papa and Mama was one of the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, yet they were piercing through my heart like sharp blades. God was kind, maybe He knew that I’m still not ready for the questions.

Those questions that I’m most afraid to answer….will come, I know they will, from the mouth of my boys and when I tell the truth, they may not like what they hear, they may judge me, they may even feel ashamed of their mommy…. till that day comes… for now, I’ll just stay dumb about this, a dark truth kept in the rusty, locked-up treasure chest, hidden deep down, deep down in a corner of my heart….