My Little Angel Speaks To Me!

Last night, when i was feeling blue -
my little angel spoke to me
giving assurance that all would be well -
between us, and i am glad she understands...

For i've always wanted the best for everyone -
and lately, it is eating into me...
for the more i tried to live a "normal" life -
the more i find i can't - 'coz i differ,
my thoughts and my feelings do so differ -
that i can't live the way that others want me to...

So, i was really, really glad you were here-
and really, truly glad to have you near...
at a time when my feelings were at war -
at a time when i'm not the best person to be around:
thank you for being there for me -
when i really needed a friend,
someone to talk to me...
someone who would understand...

So, dear little angel of mine -
i've always showered you with all my love
and am glad that they are all coming back to me:
and i love you most - for being there for me...

"The Gift of Memory"

"How we remember, and what we remember, and why we remember
form the most personal map of our individuality"
says Christina Baldwin,
and i, too, think that it's true...

For oft times, we recall a familiar face in the past,
a catchy line; a joke shared; a lovely place;
a sad, sad song; a lonely road; a tragic moment;
and know not how we remember them - but we did...

And what we remember seems to be related
to what we had felt so strongly then:
nostalgic moments, memorable holidays,
a meeting or a parting with people whom we love...

There must be a very, very strong reason -
for the heart and the mind to remember...
to want to put in memory, permanently -
to be able to recall many, many years later...

It must surely have been a special something -
that is really worth cherishing and treasuring...
it must have been like life itself to the one remembering -
something that forgetting is akin to letting the old heart die...

It is personally ours - as a breathing, thinking individual -
and no one could rob us of that precious memory, ever...

"I can't live - if living is without you"

Dear Friend,
I have a Dear Friend letter to write to you -
but i feel sad that i can't send it to you...
for knowing that you've cared -
and that you've loved me all along
makes it hard not to care,
and not to love you,too...

For i just can't go on living -
if living is without you there...
and i can't go on pretending -
that you don't exist, ever at all...
and that i care not if you were there -
or if you were never there...

For i just can't do it anymore -
i can't live, pretending that i don't care...
For i just can't go on giving -
no, not even a smile, a wee little smile...
if you are not there to see it -
if you are not there to receive it...

And i just can't go on any more -
pretending to be happy, when i'm not...
pretending to be having a great time -
when all i wanna do is have a good cry...
i just can't go on any more, dear friend -
i just can't live, and i just can't give any more...

So, help me God, show me the way -
for i can't help myself any more...

I've not said this -

Dad, i do think you are oft times lonely -
living in a house full of us ladies...
having only a loving wive and seven lovable daughters -
i wonder if you had ever wished otherwise...?

I know you had a hard time to provide for all of us -
and your parents and youngest brother and sister, too;
and what with work stress at the office -
and you as the chief must lead;
and financial problems to make ends meet -
you had your head and your hands full!

I remember you didn't talk much to us when we were young -
and mum saying you were a shy guy, especially among ladies!
all i remember was how you took us for picnics during weekends -
and how we were chased, and caught, and dipped into the sea!
and though we gulped down quite a few mouthfuls of the saltish sea -
we grew up to love the sea, and your legacy has lived on - we picnicked...

My early memories of you also covers the fact -
that you had to drown your pride, and run next door,
to seek a neighbour's help, to rush me to the doc -
whenever i had my asthmatic attacks, in the wee hours of the morning...

Later in life, when you were sick and weak and in pain -
with cancerous cells spreading over your lungs,
eating into your healthy body, you talked long to us -
as equals, as adults, no longer through mum as our mouthpiece...

And that fateful April holidays in 1988 -
i remember you were really gaunt and weak;
i remember feeding you bread dipped in Milo -
which was all that you could even swallow...

And on your deathbed, you looked around -
and singled us out, one by one, to say your last;
and when it came to my turn: i knew what you wanted to say -
and promised to be good, and to take care of myself;
while we told you to go, 'coz you were in pain -
we would take care of each other, we promised...

And then you were gone , leaving behind the memories -
of how you taught me question tags, and formal letters;
and that one letter that you wrote to me, when i was 'banished' -
i've kept it to today, and cried over its contents, still,
'coz you spoke of the family's love for me; and mine for them -
and taught me to think before i act; and never to act selfishly...

You left memories of beautiful roses in our little garden -
and sunflowers, tall and straight one season, too...
you left us memories of your hunting days, too -
and all the praises we hear of your badminton skill...

Most of all, you taught us to be good at what we do -
and to love the things that we do;
you gave us our first puppy to love -
and taught us to be fair and just - like you...

All the love in the heart of a mother -

Raden Adjeng Kartini asked: "Must a woman be obliged
to have a child of her own
in order to be a true mother -
a being who is all love and sacrifice?"

And her own answer was: "How pitifully shallow
is the idea of the world
that it is only a piece of oneself
that can love better than oneself."

For "There are so many
who are called mothers, only because
they have brought children into the world,
but beyond that, they are not worthy of the name."

But "A woman that gives all the love
that is in her heart to others,
with no thought of herself
is, in a spiritual sense - mother."

"We set the spiritual mother higher than the physical."
Hence, we set teachers, the spiritual mother or father,
higher than the physical, be it a mother or a father -
Hence a teacher should always live up to that respect...

When i chose to be a teacher - the reason was that:
to be in the position to help young minds grow,
to be there to give love and care to young hearts,
and the weak and troubled: a strong shoulder to lean on...

Thus i have strived to uphold that pledge i made -
on that fateful day when i signed up to be a teacher...
thus i have struggled on, with a heart that gives -
all that i had promised, when i decided to be a teacher...

And through these thirty-five years of being a teacher -
i think i have helped a child or two along the way,
i think i have delighted and cheered quite a few hearts, too -
and i am sure that i have touched a life or two, yours, too?

What life is

I would say that life is very sweet - at 57,
not that i have the world at my feet - far from it!
not that i care if the world is not at my feet - no need,
for having a few close friends who care, and one heart that loves -
is enough for simple-minded me to feel on top of the world - at 57!
is more than enough to fill my waking hours with pleasure,
and my sleeping hours with the sweetest of dreams...
thanks to friends and loved ones, thanks to all the pampering received...

I've always thought that i would not want to be far from home -
but little did i realise that love conquers all - me, too...
for i know that i'll sail to the ends of the earth - with you -
i'll gladly do without all the worldly pleasures - just to be with you...

It's still the sea that i love

My heart swells with love -
each time i see you,
for you remind me of home -
and the happy, days of old...

For on a sunny day like this -
you'ld look your best,
on bright, sunny days like today -
you are the most lovely blue...

You are all that i remember you to be -
calm on the surface, but full of life underneath,
you are aquamarine, and sapphire and indigo -
all rolled in one, the colours that i love...

So, i travelled those extra miles, off the highway -
just so i could be there to see you again,
i'll gladly linger by to feast my eyes on you -
whenever i could, if ever i could - then i feel i should...