Mum used to cook my favourite dishes all the time. I am rather picky when it comes to food but she knows just the right amount of seasoning to add. Now that I am eating alone, it is more convenient to cater food. Now, I have to eat whatever the caterer delivers. The food is quite tasty, though.

Mum cooked some very delicious Hakka cuisine. One of them was Deep Fried Fermented Bean Curd Pork which when dipped in her homemade chilli and garlic sauce was simply heavenly. I wonder if ever I can savour food like those that Mum used to cook. There is no written recipe. Mum had it all in her head � a little bit of this, a dash of that, and it all turned out just right.

Rummaging through Mum�s personal effects has given me an insight into Mum�s life before I was born. She was immaculate and meticulous with all her belongings. When Wuan and I looked through her possessions, most of them were individually packed and properly stored. She had stacks of black and white wedding photos of friends and relatives that must be at least 30 years old.

I know for sure that Mum had her full moon baby dress made from pineapple fibre stored somewhere but we were unable to find it. We found a piece of pineapple fibre fabric from the same era though, and it is still in good condition.

I just discovered that I misconfigured my mailbox and accidentally deleted all my mails from as far back as one month ago. Some I have not even opened yet and therefore were deleted unread. I am sorry. If you have sent me emails and kinds words of encouragement during my recent bereavement and have not received a reply from me, please forward the mails again. I will appreciate that very much. Thank you.

This poem was written in 2001. I have never read it to Mum. Now I wish I had. I was always waiting for that appropriate moment - if only I knew when and what that appropriate moment was. Mum did not speak English but she could understand. I guess she would have understood the gist of this poem if I had taken the time to read it to her. Even if she did not, I could have translated it into Hokkien for her. I did not. And now I never can. Mum, if you are listening from up there, I dedicate this poem to you with all my love and gratitude.

MOTHER Gently rocked my cradle Humming soft lullabies A deed great and noble Coarse hands ever tender Soothing away my fears Always my defender Tended me lovingly A great cultivator Raised to maturity Austere and devoted A being beyond compare Ever dedicated A guiding light of hope Even in darkest hours My despair you helped cope There shall be no other For there is only one The one I call Mother.

My weighty burdens you helped carry
And led me across a perilous journey
Till I was soundly safe and comfy
And then you left me quietly

The infinite pain in my heart
When we reluctantly had to part
Flung me into sorrow and despair
And made each day difficult to bear

Exactly one month since you left
Thirty one days I have been bereft
Of your loving motherly touch
That I yearned for so very much

It felt as if it was only yesterday
We had much to share and say
To bring joy into each other�s life
Where laughter and bliss were rife

You are one truly remarkable being
Versatile, intelligent and inspiring
In you I found the strength of mind
To overcome obstacles of every kind

Yet now I am forlornly searching
For that very strength in surmounting
This difficult trial that has come to pass
The pain that is so hard to get over alas

So with tears of blood and anguish
I tender my most heartfelt wish
That you have found perpetual calm
In the comfort of Jesus� loving arms.