What I did on Easter Sunday

It's Easter Sunday today, a day of thanksgiving for many people all over the world. Most Easter Sundays would find me and my family in church, but seeing as how we'd already gone yesterday, this morning was time for us to carry out filial duties and visit the graves of our dearly departed. Because of events that happened last year, in one fell swoop the number of places to go had doubled from 2 to 4. A bright and early start found us on a look for fresh flowers. We visited three markets in the neighborhood before we found an Indian woman selling flowers and bought some from her at RM 2 per stalk. Apparently there is a shortage of flowers in Cameron Highlands? I guess all the visitors must have bought all the flowers in KL.

Of all the graves I visited today, I am most drawn to my maternal grandmother's. It always leaves me with a certain sense of tranquility. But I never had the opportunity to meet her as she passed away a year before I was born. From the stories I hear my uncles and my mother tell of her, she must have been one very special woman. Hers was not a very different story from most women of her generation. She was given away as a babe and single-handedly raised eight children with little or no help from others. Working all day and half the night was the story of her life and when they could, her sons tried to give her the best in life when they could afford to do so, that she could finally rest. Her time with us on earth was cut short by the effects of second-hand smoke from her husband, who ironically continued on for many a year after her passing. Words often used to describe my grandmother are always kind, loving, compassionate, fair, generous to a fault. Traits that I wish I could say I inherited from her, as her daughter (my mother) did. I can only wish that I had the experience of meeting her, knowing her and being loved by her.

If you're looking down on me from heaven Ma Ma, this post is for you, from your granddaughter.