Irene:
My father had a rich and fantastic life. His journey had seen him as VICTORIA Street LOU FOO zai,
He enriched my life by always re-telling his life experiences - Big Auntie said that he was a very naughty boy when he was young. His nieces and nephews described him as a funny man because of his jokes. He always encouraged us to journalise his adventures - for us to remember, reflect, a...
julie2: I remember his cutting bits of news from the papers and showing it to me. To cite everything or moments we shared would be impossible so I will stop here. The important thing is to follow is repeated advice to me and maybe to my brothers and sisters and mom, because we are family, and family is very important.
Wise words, dad. I hope we can live up to it.
To quote a passage from Kh...
julie1:
My eulogy is very hard to write.
To say that I knew My father would be an exaggeration. I did not know him well. Growing up, he was the provider. He was the school's pocket money. He was the man with the car, brought a dog home, paid the school fees, watched us fight, make peace and grow up. But he was a man with dreams and passion and hobbies. I remember his aquariums and fishes, ...
su4:
All these catchy phrases, cliches, underscored his last months - like the exercises, his struggle to survive, to rise above it all - the grip of anger, the pain of despair, the anguish of physical fatigue. His do and die attitude, laugh and the world laughs with you, smile even though you are crying, love is a many splendored thing. Que sera sera.
This is his religion, these p...
su3:
He is indefatigable.
And so for his outlook on life too. Dad in the last few months crystallized his reflections on life in tiny little collages. Picking up magazine pages, cutting out pictures, text, phrases and gluing these together. invading the glass cabinet among mom’s crystal vases and bowls. One work- two young people on a motorbike from an advertisement - with two wor...
My memories are tied up with food, a meal, the kopiO - with sugar. He would say, I like rojak, not steak tonight. And he treated me to lontong once at the mrt station, and say the mee Siam there is not bad.
Hard to believe that in the days following up to now, it was porridge, porridge, porridge. And then the occasional chicken rice when he was better. Dad wanted to survive this, he ...
susie: My dearest dad, how are you, you Victoria Street loh foo zai, how are you, this very naughty boy in big aunties memory of a young boy. How are you? - at CNY reunions, this funny man of your nieces and nephews memory of you . Irene asks: Why don't you record your memories Dad? Like your courtship of Mom, your love for animals, your WW2 struggle. His reply was "you know, use your brains...
My memories of Uncle Wong stretch back through the years; from my days as a shy bookworm of 6 or 7 (always retreating to Gene's room to read his comics during family gatherings), to the more recent years when I'd return home to visit during the holidays. But present in each memory is Uncle Wong's warmth, sense of humour, and love, whether encouraging me to eat more and grow up "big and strong" ...
vanilla, simple and elegant
It went something like this and often started with the phrase - J, Jasmine (the cheek in his grin started to grow) my no 1 granddaughther, (he would giggle to himself and put his arm around me) I can say this because you actually are my no 1 granddaughter, now you listen carefully to what I have to say because I love you very much and I want you to have the very best and achieve the very best. ...
