‘Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality.”
– Emily Dickinson, American poet
DO you know that the people we love never die after they pass on? They live on either in us or some of our family members.
Some wise men of long ago must have been aware of this. Hence the proverb, “The apple does not fall far from the tree.”
A few days, my younger sister’s son, 19, came to my house after a lapse of many years. He wanted to check my washing machine and find out whether it could be repaired.
When Akip was here, I took pictures of him and shared them with my family members. The reaction of my youngest sister, Ah Lan, was unexpected.
She called and said she was shocked by what she saw. I was shocked by what she said.
“Did you notice the resemblance to our late brother Seng? Especially the thick eyebrows and the gentle smile?”
Frankly speaking, I did not notice the difference. After Seng died tragically (he was murdered by friends he knew) 20 years ago, I forced myself to stop thinking about him. I stopped looking at his pictures.
The first few years after his untimely death were terrible and traumatic for my mother but somehow, we managed to move on.
Getting rid of all the furniture including the bed in his room and repainting it helped tremendously. Otherwise, the old lady would cry badly every time she opened the door to his immaculate bedroom. Seng just went to work one afternoon and never came home.
Maybe Ah Lan noticed the resemblance in Akip because she was four years younger than Seng and they were very close. I was much older than both of them.
Frankly speaking, I see glimpses of my late father who died three months earlier than Seng in my elder sister, Moi, and Ah Lan.
Moi, who resides in Bintulu now, resembles him in the way she looks and talks. And we always tease her about it.
“See, see, Ah Chuang is talking,” my younger sisters and I will tell each other whenever she says something funny.
Ah Lan, who lives in Johor Bharu, also looks a bit like my late father. She has his thick busy eyebrows and some of his mannerisms. I wonder why the boys in the family do not take after our old man.
My father died of old age so we are quite relaxed whenever we talk about him. In the case of Ah Seng, whenever we talk about him, we feel sad and sometimes cry. We wish he had a long life and is here to enjoy a better life with us now.
Now, the nephews and nieces who used to stay with us are either married or working. Our living standard has also improved drastically.
Meanwhile, whenever I see Ah Choo (Akip’s mother), I see glimpses of my maternal grandmother who lived in Kanowit. She used to look after this sister. Now, as she ages, Ah Choo resembles my grandmother more.
During the year end school holidays, my siblings and I used to visit my grandmother’s village. At first, we would travel in slow motor launches and later, the fast express boats from Sibu to Kanowit.
There were six children in my family and while one of my younger brothers, Kii, would go fishing with his friends, the rest of us were free to do whatever we wanted. I spent most of my time reading fairy tales. I guess I was destined to be a journalist except at that young age, I knew next to nothing about journalism.
My father was a coffeeshop assistant while my mother was a housewife. My maternal grandparents and my aunts were all farmers.
My father was a Hainanese who came from China and he made fantastic coffee and toasts. I wish I had learnt the skills from him. But when you are young, you don’t know many things, especially the value of your family heritage. Now, it’s too late because all the old folk have passed on.
The other day, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought I saw a glimpse of my mother. But my mother was very pretty, strict and did not entertain any nonsense. My siblings and I were careful not to say silly jokes in front of her for fear of being severely scolded.
I am not pretty and better known for my brain. Perhaps, I look just a little bit like my mother because of my high cheek bones. I believe I am more tolerant and I like to joke. I honestly think we should not take life too seriously. After all, we are here today, gone tomorrow.
Anyway, my friends, I will not be surprised if someday in the near future, family friends come up to me and say I remind them of my mother. In one way or another.
What about you? Do you see glimpses of your loved ones who have passed on in your family members?
The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of New Sarawak Tribune.
