Mother’s Day 2022

Mother’s Day is approaching. For me, it’s a day of grief. There is only a heaviness in my chest, an emptiness that threatens to burrow itself into all of my limbs, leaving me an empty husk.

I’m grieving for a relationship that’s been severed. I’m mourning for something that has never been mine. There is no closure, only an open wound that festers and bleed. Perhaps it’s dramatic. But then again, that’s how it hurts me.

I don’t know how to describe this dysfunctional relationship with my mother. I don’t know how to name it. Maybe it’s because the abuse is intertwined so closely into my own measure of self. Growing up raised by a strong woman. Growing up believing that she was amazing. Growing up thinking, wow, I could never measure up to her successes.

And I chose not to acknowledge her failures.

Unfortunately, despite the years of trying— Despite the years of pretending that all was fine— It would inevitably come crashing down and with it, the realization that yes, it wasn’t a normal childhood after all. And yes, she has not changed, not even as the years pass by. Despite all that I’ve done as an adult, and all that I’ve not done, I cannot deny that I can never go back to closing my eyes to that trauma that she’s inflicted on me.

The verbal and occasionally physical abuse, the abject fear that she would hurt us when she’s drunk, the emotional manipulation—

I have to acknowledge that. I have to remember the reason why I chose to cut her out of my life. I have to remind myself that despite the love I feel, despite the pain I have from her absence… Should I return to that pit, I will never be able to find myself again. I have to tear away the decaying roots and find my center. I have to grow beyond this or die trying.

It’s really difficult. Truly it is. Absence makes the heart fonder after all.

It’s then that I have to remind myself.

Remember when?

Remember when it was Teacher’s Day and Mother’s Day all at once and you made sure to order a lovely lemon cake for her? Remember when you stood in front of her room door pleading for her to open it to come out and cut the cake? Remember when she said, fuck off. You don’t really love me anyway. You’re just doing this because I’m your mother. Remember?

Remember when you tried to stop her from drinking again? Remember when you gripped her wrists and threaten to call the cops? Remember when she slapped your face and told you, syurga di bawah tapak kaki ibu, and that you were a terrible unfilial child?

Remember when you went on a trip with her and despite how much you tried your best to make her happy, all she said upon return was that you didn’t love her enough, that you cared more about your boyfriend than her.

Remember when—

It never ends. Because there’s just so much hurt, so much pain, and even as I write this, I’m crying at the memories of pain.

Sure there are plenty of lovely ones, of smiles and happiness. But they’re always overshadowed by the pain. Always.

I can never write this in total honesty, I can never feel comfortable telling another soul. Mostly because in this country, filial piety is everything. There are also those with their own strained relationship with parents who tell me to endure. People don’t want to hear about the aftereffects of a separation. They just want to know if there’s a reconnection, a happy ending.

But sometimes there just aren’t any happy endings. It just is.

Naturally it hurts to see so many posts on social media that talks about honouring your mother, to appreciate sacrifices. With the commercial aspect of Mother’s Day, there are also plenty of sponsored posts that appears on my feed with cakes and flowers and jewellery.

This time last year I was in the deep throes of depression, feeling utterly helpless and hurt. Scrolling through social media was somewhat of a punishment. As if I had to stab myself with a knife and say, “See, you’re a bad child. Look what everyone else is doing! Look at how great they are at honouring their parents?” It’s silly and stupid but sometimes I’m just so caught up with the pain that I do stupid things.

This year I am a lot stronger and a lot more sure of myself. It’s why I’m blogging about it. It’s why I’m going to choose to take a step back on Mother’s Day and focus on myself. Much like @hijabiluscious says on Instagram (shared by my sister) – I shall get a gift for myself for mothering my damn self. This made me laugh and cry at the same time at how true it is.

Anyway, thank you for reading this and being with me as I share about my pain.

Till the next post.

Nic.

Selamat Hari Raya 2022

Selamat Hari Raya to everyone celebrating. Maaf zahir dan batin. May this festive occasion be one of joy and fun. I hope that your mental health would be preserved even in the chaos of open houses and intrusive relatives.

When the announcement of the Hari Raya date being brought forward was made, I was initially in disbelief. How can Malaysia make such a sudden change, I thought. It was actually my ignorance that led to such a disbelief.

Upon enquiring the reason for the sudden change of date with my Muslim friends, I then learnt of the actual reason the Hari Raya date was changed. In fact, Hari Raya Aidilfitri or Hari Raya Puasa can be determined through two methods. “Rukyah” which is to see the new moon, or using “Hisab” which is through mathematical or astronomical calculation which regards to the position of the moon through the Muslim calendar.

Yesterday, they sighted the new moon. According to a friend of mine, the new moon sighting is done 2 days before the 30th of Ramadan. Every year there’s a possibility of 29/30 days of fasting, but Raya awal hasn’t happened in a long time. Thank you Adilah for this information!

In fact, Malaysia has relied on moon sightings for years. My Muslim friends told me that they would usually be prepared for Raya to be on either one of those days. In the recent years, people were surer about which day it was going to be and I suppose with the pandemic screwing up the perception of time for everyone, most forgot about the moon sighting!

Another interesting fact that I found out while googling about this phenomenon was the fact that there was a time in Malaysian history that an early Raya occurred! It turns out that in 1983, Perak and Johor celebrated Hari Raya Aidilfitri 1 day earlier than the rest of the Malaysian states.

A newspaper cutting that I found online but I don’t know where it was first published from and when.

There are several similar articles mentioning the story. I’ll just linked this particular one which I had access to. In short, in 1983, there were a few fishermen who saw the new moon while they were out at sea. When they were back to shore, the news spread and it was also noted to be true by the marines stationed at the time. However, due to the fact that it was only by word of mouth and not apparently, in official records, not all states celebrated it earlier. In the article, it mentions that the news was known to the mufti, the Islamic jurist at the time, and he immediately informed the late Sultan.

The late Sultan announced for Hari Raya to be celebrated a day earlier then but at the time, due to the lack of an internet connection – the announcement was apparently made only using loudspeakers. The same thing occurred in Johor and thus, only these two states had an earlier Raya celebration.

I found it very interesting! There are a few newspaper cuttings about the incident too that I managed to find.

Image from Utusan Malaysia on 14 July 1983.

So, since the new moon was sighted yesterday, thus began the mad rush for Muslim families to get the needed groceries to cook up a feast for Hari Raya.

Meme courtesy of MGAG.

Muslim mothers everywhere probably rolled up their sleeves, gearing up for a long night ahead to prepare everything in time for the next morning! I salute all of you! My other friends told me of massive traffic everywhere in the highway as everyone had to drive back 1 day earlier to reach their kampungs in time. No more leisurely morning cruise.

A few healthcare worker friends had an even sadder tale. Usually, as leaves are really difficult to be granted for any festive season, one would do an overnight shift two days before a festive event in order to use their post-night time to head back home, or take a flight back to their kampung. With the sudden announcement of Hari Raya being a day earlier, it ended up as my healthcare friends having to work the night shift just before Raya, leading to post-night shift being on Raya itself! It is actually quite sad as they won’t be able to make it in time to celebrate Raya eve with family. If they were to work at a place where they had to do post-night rounds the next morning, it would mean they could only head back home after 12pm. Ah well, that’s how it is when one works in healthcare I suppose.

It’s been a long hard two years for everyone and this is the first Hari Raya celebration after the pandemic. With this sudden change of dates, it just adds on to the chaos of 2022.

I hope everyone will have a safe and happy Hari Raya Aidilfitri, even if it is a Hari Raya kelam-kabut, or Hari Raya tiba-tiba! Haha. And to those not celebrating and can still enjoy the public holidays, happy holidays! My husband is sadly unable to enjoy the holidays. In order to allow his Muslim colleagues to have a good break, he’s taken up 2 overnight shifts, and 3 extra passive shifts to cover for them. I’ll probably have to cook up a feast too, to let him regain his energy. Anyone willing to send over rendang and lemang would be showered with lots of love heh.

Till the next blog post!

Nic.

PS: If there’s any error in my post regarding the moon sightings and Hari Raya celebrations, do correct me! I’m still learning after all, and most of what I’ve written are information by word-of-mouth or from googling. So there may be errors and I would appreciate it if you could let me know what I should change. Thank you!

Xin Nian Kuai Le

I meant to update a lot sooner. I had a draft written shortly after the Lunar New Year but there was a sudden Omnicron surge of cases in Kotas Kinabalu and I was assigned to help out in the newly established Covid wards. With the 12 hour shifts that alternated between the day and night, busier work schedules, and seemingly shorter off days – I couldn’t find the energy to actually write. Laundry seemed endless, house chores kept piling up, and my depression fueled bad days were relentless.

After a month of that I’ve finally been released from the Covid pool as cases have plummeted down. We’re now all just waiting for the next wave to hit us, likely after Hari Raya. Festivals are always the time when people tend to flout the rules after all.

Anyway, back to blogging about the Lunar New Year. I just wanted to ramble about how this year was different. In the previous year, Covid cases were still pretty bad and leaves were frozen. No one was allowed to fly back to celebrate the Lunar New Year with their families. I was relieved at the time, because I had a reason to not go back. To not ponder about the implications about being estranged from my mother. I could stay home and pretend that everything was okay, even if they weren’t.

I couldn’t do the same this year because everyone could finally go home to see their families. There were posts about how they’ve been away for years due to the pandemic, and how they’ve missed their hometowns. I didn’t know what to do, really. I’m closer to my mother’s side of the family, and we’ve always gone back to celebrate the New Year’s down south. But how could I return if my mother was going to be there? Would there be shouting or screaming as she tells me to get lost? How could I find a place there when my aunts would likely take my mother’s side? Would they tell me yet again to bear with it, to reconcile with my mother, to let her be?

What about my father’s side you may ask? I’m not close to them, having not spoken to them, nor seen them for years. The idea of being in a place where I don’t feel like I belong, in the throes of depression sounds like an absolute torture to me, and so I decided not to return north as well. I would be alone too, since my husband wouldn’t be able to accompany me.

It’s how it is. Despite him being married to a Chinese, he’s still Indian, and thus, not qualified to take long leaves for the Lunar New Year because he has to replace the shifts to allow his Chinese colleagues to go home to celebrate.

And so, with that in mind, I decided that this year would be the year I learned how to celebrate the Lunar New Year with just us two. Many of our friends would be going home to celebrate with their families. It’s a time of reunion after all.

It was truly daunting to plan what to do even if there were only two of us. I kept thinking about all the hard work my aunts would put into making Lunar New Year feel so festive and wonderful. The food on the table would be plentiful and scrumptious. The atmosphere full of the cheery loud music. The game cards on the table of course. And not forgetting the seemingly endless Mandarin oranges that would be everywhere.

It seemed as though I had to make it as great as the previous years. It gave me a lot of pressure. Especially when I’ve never really taken into account how to cook those particular Lunar New Year dishes that would always grace the dining table. I don’t know what are the traditional items that has to be placed in the household to welcome the God of Fortune. I only remember not sweeping the floor on the 1st day of the Lunar New Year, and to not wash my hair. Every year my aunts would remind me on what not to do, and I guess I’ve always taken that for granted.

One of the random Youtube videos I watched to ensure that I was doing the right thing during the Lunar New Year.

I even made a trip to the morning market just before the New Years with Sarvin, and there we seemed like two clueless children wandering about as the fit old ladies with their big baskets went around haggling for prices of pork or fish. I saw that there were plenty of pomelos around as well, and seeing as to how everyone seemed to be grabbing one, I decided to buy one as well. I was busy trying to rip off the long twindly stalk of the pomelo, because it seemed so dirty and unneeded. A lady beside me said, “Hey girl! Don’t pull that off, the stalk is for good fortune la!” Embarrassed, I quickly stopped what I was doing and paid in a hurry before running away.

I hate eating fish but I remember fish being a staple dish during the Lunar New Year because “nián nián yǒu yú” lit. (may you) have abundance year after year. So yes, we went to the market to get fish which I’ve never ever bought before. Somehow we managed to get a decent slice of fish. No prawns, thank you.

Even while buying pork, I had no clue what cuts of the pork would be best. I was just trying to find some lean meat to cook some fried pork in soy sauce. But being a banana – someone who doesn’t know how to speak Mandarin properly – I had no clue how to ask for it. All the slabs of meat looked the same, and the butcher uncles kept yelling one after another, making me feel quite overwhelmed. I finally pointed to a random piece of pork, and again when he asked me how much I wanted, I had absolutely no clue. I said “Just give me the whole thing,” and I paid and ran off yet again. I did cut some to cook in the end, but a whole chunk of it is still in my freezer to this day.

After finally getting a whole carton of Mandarin oranges as well, Sarvin and I called it a day and collapsed at home. We had no clue what we were doing but I was eager to make it a great Lunar New Year for the two of us.

Mandarin oranges that we bought and finished within the next two weeks haha! I don’t have a photo of droopy stalk pomelo sadly.

Beautiful box of oranges.

In the end, we had a simple festive season with just the two of us. Sarvin had to go to work, but managed to get an off day on the 1st day of the Lunar New Year so we got to celebrate together. We experimented with new dishes that we had never cooked before.

Fried fish with soy sauce. Stir fried pork slices. Steamboat! We even lor Yee Sang together. I also attempted to make those fried sweet potato with nian gao pastry like things. I’ve no idea what they’re supposed to be called. I was even missing the yam ingredient but that’s okay, it still tasted pretty good anyway. It was fun just trying out new things together. We may not have the most traditional of celebrations but really, we both had a lot of fun during this Lunar New Year. The pomelo also ended up being tremendously sweet, even though the stalk looked so droopy because of all my pulling haha!

We had steamboat for the reunion dinner, and then cooked up some simple dishes for the 1st day of the Lunar New Year! Doesn’t look like much but we had a feast. First time cooking fish as well okay haha!

The ugly charred first attempt for fried nian gao that ended up looking more like siew bak according to my friend.

The rest of it looked much better! Next year I shall add on the yam.

The beautiful Yee Sang that we got from GuiltFreeSociety. I wanted to make my own tiger themed Yee Sang but there were too many ingredients and would likely cost more than if I just ordered one.

Naturally there were some mishaps as well. While cleaning a rusty knife, in hopes to make it sharper, I cut myself and had to go to the doctors to get a tetanus shot. That basically ruined my plans of making cookies and cooking. So Sarvin took over the cooking instead and he was the one who made the seaweed popiah for snacking! It’s not the most difficult of cookies to make but it’s a start. Next year maybe we’ll attempt to make the pineapple tarts. (BIG maybe).

Sarvin was super proud of this tupperware of seaweed popiah. No more getting it from outside sources he said.

I suppose I had put too much pressure on myself to make it a “perfect” celebration. But in the end, it all worked out fine. We spent the day cooking, playing games and generally just resting. I wished I had the opportunity to celebrate with my siblings, but perhaps we’ll do that together next year.

In the end, there’s no turning back. There’s no way for things to ever be the same ever again. I’ve chosen this path and I’ll walk on it. I’ll find ways to make each celebration my own. I’ll learn how to make it resonate with the past and yet move forward with the future. I’m also grateful that no matter what I’ve chosen to do, I’ll have my husband by my side, supporting me.

Till the next blog post.

Love, Nicole.

P/s: I’m honestly considering making an entire new blog just because whenever I click on old posts, I’m cringing at what I’ve written previously. It is the worst. But attempting to make a new blog on WordPress would mean trying to come up with a new blog name, tagline, etc etc and it’s just so much effort ahaha. Oh well, I’ll just have to embrace the cringey past! HAHA. Okay bye, thanks for reading.