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The first day I cried a lot.
Only close relatives came, cause the word hadn’t spread.
After the embalming, my mother didn’t look like herself. They had made her look too plump, combed her hair all back and tucked her t-shirt into her jeans, something she never did.
They returned us my mother’s own jeans cause she couldn’t fit into them.
The monk came to do the Buddhist rites.
I didn’t know what to do and was confused.
The second day everyone came and it was very busy.
During funerals,few people come until something like 2000hrs onwards.
Then everyone comes and it is like a riot of activity and everyone talking so it seems like a hum instead of individual voices.
There were only two daughters (me and my sis) and we had to become waiters (give out the drinks and the plates with the melon seeds, peanuts, sweets and the red string) and keep track of the ‘peh kim’ (白金 or condolence money).
Actually the daughters are just supposed to kneel by the coffin, but we were severely understaffed.
My aunts had to help out too.
We stayed overnight on all two nights to keep my mother company.
Even though we were sleeping in the same room as a corpse, I wasn’t frightened.
Why would you be frightened of your own mother?
My only complaint was that it was too bright, but we had to keep the light on because of chinese superstition.
Singapore Casket has bathing facilities, but they are kind of lousy and camp-ish.
I only found out on the second day.
The third day was the day she was cremated.
We booked a bus to ferry all the relatives to Mandai to watch the cremation.
I was worried that no one would come but I didn’t have to worry cause almost everybody did.
The person from Singapore Casket came to see how much of the stuff in the room we’d consumed.
On the first day, they provided everything we’d need in the room, peanuts, drinks, plates, red string, black plastic bags, etc.
On the last day, they came to see how much we’d consumed or opened and then charged us accordingly.
The monk came to do the rites again.
This time there was a person from Singapore Casket to instruct us and there were more relatives involved.
I could hear people crying.
I didn’t feel as upset as I had been on the first day because I had already kind of accepted it by then.
We went to Mandai crematorium.
My sister, being the eldest, rode in the hearse.
She had to tell my mother when to get on, get off, and when they were passing over a bridge with water.
My aunt drove with the rest of my family.
I saw another car behind us belonging to my cousin.
Everyone else took the bus.
During the cremation, we are not supposed to cry because it’s supposed to be a happy send off.
I didn’t cry.
I only wanted to comfort my mother, in case she was scared.
I told her in my heart, ‘don’t be scared, I’m here, just bear with it for a while and then you’ll be free’
Just like what I’d usually tell her when she was in pain.
I couldn’t do anything to help ease the pain, so I would tell her ‘don’t worry, I’m here, just bear with it for a while’, and hold her.
But I couldn’t hold her so I had to do it in my heart.
The coffin went in and the door closed. We didn’t even see the flames.
Then we went home to sleep.
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