I Remember

I remember going to school once, to visit brother when he was sick. As we walked towards him, his friends teased him, teased him of how his little sister was looking so awkward and odd beside her mother. An oversized pants, black and red stripes, my most favorite pants in the whole world. I like it when you walk beside me mum, I love curling up in-between your legs, where I felt safe, and nobody could see me. You didn’t realize mum, that people were laughing at me. Laughter did not necessarily equate joy in our world. Thank you mum, for sewing me that pretty yellow dress with that matching ribbon on my head, a few fears later when you could afford it. What vibrant colors.

I remember the days when it use to rain. Mum, you tied plastic bags over my only pair of shoe and one around my head. A few extra in my plastic-covered bag, just incase the ones on my feet tore. What a cold walk it use to be, I would play a game with myself. If I look close enough, I could see my big toe peaking out of my shoe underneath the red plastic bag. Thank you mum, for protecting me from the rain in the only way you could.

I remember , how we use to wait once a month, for the milk man to arrive. You pre-order your milk a week before, and when the truck arrives, the teacher would call out your name during class for you to step out and collect your share. I remember the milk box, dark brown and white. With drawings of children on the front. Inside the box is what brings sweetness to the lips, how I wished it was my lips that tasted it. But its ok, mum, I loved your coffee better, the ones I use to steal while you were busy raking the garden. Thank you for that heavenly bitter-sweet taste on my lips.

I remember sports time during school, students were required to wear appropriate clothes in order to take part. Teachers were quite strict. All my friends would have so much of fun, playing ball or running the field. ‘I forgot my clothes teacher”, week after week. Punished I was, for being the forgetful kid. How I wished I had pants to wear, to join the others while they played like children did. But mum, I loved climbing that jambu tree at home, and catching mosquitoes every evening, oh, and not to forget… peeping at the old lady opposite our house that refused to die even though we all knew that her time was long due. Thank you mum, for playing with me, I remember all your tricks, but I hated it when you sat on me and tickled me.

I don’t remember having a piggy bank till I was 9. Mum, was it because we didn’t have any spare change? 5 cents for purple colored water, and 15 cents for nasi lemak. Nothing more, or nothing less. I treated myself to pop ice sometimes, 5 cents, twist it in half, shared with my best friend. If I skip my nasi lemak for two weeks, I get to buy nyam nyam; my most favorite food in the whole world. Thank you mum, I never was hungry sitting in my classroom.

I remember going to Auntie’s house once a year for Christmas. We didn’t have a car like the others, squeeze in wherever we could, in between your legs mum, was my special place. What a different world out there. I have never seen so many colors on a dress before. The flowers on my dress seemed almost white, I suppose it was vibrant when they wore it last Christmas. How pretty it looked on the other children.

Auntie’s fridge was my like a magic box. Chocolate milk, mango Juice, biscuits…. food fit for a king. So sweet tasting. I remember aunty looking at me eat in amusement, like a dog being given a bone. How I savored every little Koko Crunch, stuffed my pockets with cookies, and stop for a gulp of juice every time I passed by the fridge.

Off to church it was at night. So many people, but I felt safe beside you mum. I wouldn’t know what to do, all the other children would be reciting the prayers by heart, I remember moving my lips a few seconds late, just to fit in.

I hated gift exchanging time. All those presents under auntie’s beautiful standing Christmas tree, with beautiful beautiful shiny decoration. A new tree each year. A bigger one each year. How thoughtful of aunty, we were always gifted with luxurious presents. A stuffed toy for me each year, for I am the youngest out of all the rest. I remember the look on your face mum, you were one never to receive, always giving, but Christmas was the time when you were blessed. But I know that look on your face, humble and humiliated, because there was none to offer back.

How uncle use to pass around the presents, reading out the names of the givers, but your name was never to be called. It’s OK mum, I understand. Thank you for pulling me aside, with tears in your eyes, and telling me how much you would have wanted to buy me something nice. I enjoyed that little time with you alone mum, the secrets you told me made me feel like the most special one around.

I remember, being so happy. I remember being loved. I remember being yours. I remember feeling like a princess in our little castle. To tell you the truth mum, these were the best days of my life. I wouldn’t change a thing if I had the chance. Thank you for my values, thank you for my love, thank you for my content, thank you for giving me your all.