My Father and Me (2)

Maybe it was my last entry that got me thinking of my father so often this past week. Maybe it was the fact that June is always associated in my mind with my father because his birthday was on 10th June, Fathers' Day falls on the third Sunday in June and he passed away on 15th June.

My father was 90 years old when he passed away and 50 when I was born. My earliest memory of my dad is actually of him singing me to sleep. I remember lying face down on his chest, feeling his chest rise and fall with his breathing. I remember the feel of the soft worn white cotton singlet under my cheek and my father's hand on my back as he patted me to sleep, singing a lullaby he made up. This song was essentially a stringing together of the vowels and consonants of the Tamil language!  On some evenings, instead of singing, he would recite the months of the Tamil year.  And that is how I learnt my Tamil :)

My dad's last years were not comfortable ones because he had Alzeimer's. I wish I had not been so busy, so far away in Singapore. I wish I had made more of an effort to visit him. During my last visit, he was convinced that R who was six then, was me. And he was confused as to who I was. I remember visiting him in hospital and he kept asking me what day it was, what date it was and I cried to see him looking so lost. Immediately, he asked me "Why are you crying? What do you need? Do you need any money? Have you eaten? Don't cry." And I felt six again.

I didn't get to see my dad before he passed away and that is a sadness I carry. I had heard he was ill, but I did not know how ill he really had been. I would have liked to have said goodbye. My sister tells me he did not recognise anyone at the end; she says that to console me, that in practical terms, my absence did not make a difference. I like to think my father knew how much I loved him; because I know, without a doubt, that my daddy loved me.

My Father and Me

It's Fathers' Day today and we had our usual prayer for dads during church service. But instead of the usual blessing by the pastor, today a dad was invited to pray for the fathers. 

His prayer touched me, because it gave me an insight into fatherhood - which, I admit, I had never spent any time thinking about. I have only ever thought about what it means to mother children, the joys and challenges of motherhood and what kind of a mother I was being to my daughters. But before today, I had not tried to look through the eyes of a father. And I realise, fatherhood is no less challenging.

I remember my own father fondly. Lately, I have also begun to wonder if my sister and I had lionised him, but nevertheless, I know my father was a bigger influence on me than my mother was. 

Interestingly, when I think about my father, the first values and pictures that come to mind are all to do with money. From him, I learnt the importance of thrift and hard work. I remember he gave me a tiny notebook when I started school and in it he taught me to write down every cent I spent from the 50 cent allowance he gave me. My first set of accounts! My dad was an accounts clerk so I suppose he was teaching me the most important life skill he knew... 

At the start of the week, my father would give me a 50 cent coin. He never gave me any combination of coins to make up 50. It was always one big 50 cent coin and I remember feeling really reluctant to part with the coin and receiving many small coins in return after a purchase. Somehow it had the feeling of breaking things up :) At the end of the week, I would have to show my father my little notebook in which I had written down every purchase I had made. 

I remember the first time I broke the one rule my father had about money - never borrow. Never. My downfall was chocolate milk. One adventurous and greedy recess, I bought a whole bottle of chocolate milk to drink. To my horror, I got no change back after giving my 50 cent to the drink vendor! I was terrified because I now had no money for the week and worse, I would have to record one big purchase in my notebook! My dad would know! 

In my desperation, I asked my friend Maheswari (oh how well I remember her name and her face to this day) to lend me 50 cents. And she did. The week passed uneventfully, the purchases were recorded, the notebook was inspected, no chocolate milk was mentioned anywhere...

But my day of reckoning came. Because the next week, my personal Shylock asked me for her money back. Many years later when I read the line "O what a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive...", this was the incident that came immediately to mind. Because that was when my dance of deceit and counter-deceit began.

I couldn't return Maheswary her money because every cent I spent needed to be recorded and even if I gave her back 10 cents at a time, what was I going to put in my book? It amazes me now to think back and realise the strange adherence to truth - I couldn't bring myself to lie to my father by inventing reasons that could have covered up the cents that could have been trickled back to Maheswary. Yet, I had broken the cardinal rule my father had set for me. Just one rule - and I had broken it. [Yes, this is the account of my personal Fall. The symbolism didn't escape me :)]

The final crunch came 2 weeks later, when tired of my evasive behaviour, Maheswary brought out her secret weapon - if you don't return my money, she said, I will tell my father. The terror that created in the heart of an 8-year old, I cannot describe to you. Maheswary's father had a black moustache and he rode a motorbike. My father was 58 and drove the car very slowly...

I was rescued from being thrown into the debtors' prison at the age of 8 because I sidled up to my mother that night and simply said, "Amma can I have 50 cents?" And my mother said "Go take it from my handbag." That was it. The end of my weeks of misery, my weeks of falsifying accounts, my weeks of terror at the sound of a motorbike. 

To this day, I have an aversion to debts. I agonise when I see J's telephone bill lying on the table. I can't wait for the day the mortgage on my flat will be fully paid. And for 6 months now I have been putting off starting on renovation plans for the flat because I can't bring myself to take out a renovation loan. 

I wonder if my father ever knew about this incident. But he taught me a life skill that has helped me a great deal, as a student, as a young adult in my first job, as a wife and and a mother raising a family. I have progressed today from notebooks to an Excel spreadsheet, but budgetting has helped me keep my head above waters all my life.

And as I think back on this Father's Day about my dad, I also wonder what I would have done if my mother had not given me the money. I don't quite know why she did that. Maybe she was distracted by the television show she was watching. Maybe she didn't quite hear what I said. Or maybe she too had been given a notebook and she knew the folly of  the misspent 50 cents. :)

What's Next?

On Wed, B asked me, "What do you see yourself doing next?" He was quite startled by the alacrity with which the plans came pouring out, I could tell :)

There was a time when I used to agonise about what I could do. But as I grow older I have become more aware of what I am best at and what I struggle with; I am surer about the gifts God has blessed me with; and I am more confident that working from my strengths and saying no to what I do not enjoy doing really is wiser.

And so I know these are what I want to be doing... I want to retire as soon as I can, even before I hit the mandatory age, because I don't care if there is another promotion or not. I want to go back to school and get a post-grad degree in Counselling. I want to be an adjunct teacher and get back into the classroom with the kids I love. I want to spend more time with the Young Adults ministry in my church and take time to mentor and disciple them. I especially want to mentor the young teachers and help them keep the love of teaching alive despite the hard time they have in school. I want to form a support group for young dating and married couples - just open up my home for these couples to meet and talk and work through the joys and worries of marriage with others so they know that life can be puzzling or hard but it can be handled with the help of others. I want to help with the Pastoral Counselling ministry in my church and have the time to listen to hurting people because I know we are all made of struggles and strengths. I want to enrol in a theological college and dig deep into God's Word. I want to spend time in the mission field and teach English and train teachers. I want to travel and open my home to young people who travel, maybe by running an informal B&B. I want to write, in my blog, maybe a book, maybe a collection of devotionals, maybe a memoir for young teachers. I want to be a grandma and love my grandchildren to bits.I want to read the books I have bought and stacked on the shelves with the thought 'one day...'.

God willing, that's what I want to do. God willing, that will be next...

Doc Visit

My body is breaking down. I'm not sure if it is because I haven't taken a break in such a long while or whether it is just an onset of age-related nigglings. But today I am on medical leave because, for a second night, I threw up in the middle of the night and had the runs to boot. Since I was due for gynae appointment this morning anyway, I didn't go to a GP, but spoke to my gynae, Prof K, instead. He thinks it is acid reflux and has given me 2 days of medical leave and told me to try a bunch of stuff that includes sleeping on my left (yes, really!), raising my pillow, not eating within 3 hours of bedtime, keeping a food diary and not getting stressed. My BP is also creeping up, he says. 

I like him. I have been seeing him since I was pregnant with J and he has grown to be a good friend. What I appreciate about him is that he takes a wholistic approach, never says "that's not my department" and listens to every ailment I moan to him about - "my elbow and fingers hurt, my neck hurts, my knee hurts, I can't wake up in the mornings, my migraine is back, I can't focus for as long as I used to, I'm depressed ...." Hahahaha. I think he is worth his weight in gold just for that patient listening :)

I appreciate Prof K all the more after my visit to the Clementi Polyclinic last Thursday. It has been more than 10 years since I visited the polyclinic but sadly, beyond the upgrade of technical facilities (now I can scan my ID card to get a queue number), I don't think much has changed in terms of quality of care. I waited 1 1/2 hours to see the doctor and my 5 minute consultation was such an irritating encounter I was glad I only went to get a referral to an orthopedic surgeon (for said elbow, knee, fingers and neck) and not for medical attention. The doc who attended to me was abrupt and didn't give me time to finish listing my woes and then told me "You are 53. This is all old age. You just have to live with it. Don't waste time and money going to a specialist." I then asked him what he suggested I do and his reply - "I will give you Panadol." If I had had an umbrella and I hadn't already waited 1 1/2 hours and didn't need a referral badly, I swear I would have hit him on the head. 

It made me think though - how many people who can't afford anything more than the primary care offered at our polyclinics, who do not know how to negotiate the bureaucracies of getting specialist care and lack the self-confidence to know that "living with it" is not the only option available - are putting up with pain every day.

Me-time

J and I make a terrible mom & daughter team moaning about work almost every day! Sometimes I think I should set a better example, but I'm afraid I don't. When she moans about work, I confess I can only empathise. 

But I have been feeling a great deal more cheerful today than I have felt in a long time and I was wondering why... And I realise what has made me happier is the fact that I worked only half days for the last 2 days, conducted a seminar for JC students on Fri morning and had 2 unloading sessions with 2 dear friends - one via email and the other over dinner. 

So that's it. The confluence of factors that keep me even-keeled - space, students and friends. Perhaps what I need to do then is to find ways of finding these pursuits of pleasure within my current work? Easier said than done. 

Nevertheless this is the here and now and I will enjoy it. I've had an hour at the gym & the laundry is done. I have bought myself a green tea frappuchino and a roast chicken wrap. My iPad is powered up and the latest copy of 'O' awaits in all its digital glory. Finally, this is me-time. The speech I have to write for our Guest-of-Honour can wait.

Something Has to Give

Hello blog. I have thought of you often. I miss writing. As I was travelling home today I wondered why. Why do I not have the time or inclination to write these days? 

And I think it is the result of a number of things. The commute which tires me, the work that eats up my evenings, the diminished after-work life and the lack of reflection. 

I looked over my last few posts and I realise I've been more melancholic these last few months than I was even when I was in the middle of my domestic troubles last year. I don't have the spirit to get up and face the day. I think about the stuff on my to-do list all the time. On the bus, in the shower, while I'm reading the Bible. I think the only time work isn't on my mind is when I'm exercising with Johan and that's because he talks to me all the time. So that's good.

But this cannot go on. I need to choose to change. I need to change my perspective or change my job or change the way I view my job. I am putting aside what matters to me for the sake of what I have to do. I have to change something. Question is, what?

Mismatch?

Finally, I have come to the end of the first run of my training workshops. It has been 5 long weeks. Yesterday, the last day of my workshop, I don't know who was happier - me or the participants :) 

I think I have identified what it is that makes me feel dispirited and joyless in my new job. I think it is because in the past few years,  I have deliberately been cultivating a life that is more about thinking than doing, more about connecting than telling, more about saying yes to life rather than yes to work. Then just when I thought I was going to move forward in this journey by doing more of what I love, which is teaching, I realise I have actually moved back. I have moved back into a life of working without asking why, of doing without reflection, of valuing speed more than deliberation.

I think the life cycle I am at does not match the life cycle of the organisation I am in. The organisation  is new, needing to grow quickly, needing to make an impact. What it needs are people who are eager to be pioneers, to be trailblazers. I am not. I am at a life stage when I want to be retrospective, when I want to make sense of life, and use my life experiences to mentor and guide the younger ones. I feel like Moses at the end of leading his wandering flock, not Joshua waiting to charge in with the flock. To Joshua the Promised Land was one of opportunity and promise. To Moses the Promised Land would have meant the reward for his toils.

I wish I knew how to manage this mismatch. I know where I am is part of God's design and purpose. I know I am called to do my work as unto the Lord and not men. I know I can trust God. I wish my heart would listen to my head more.

Blues

I fear this is the year my blog will die. Not because I am tired of writing in it but because my world has shrunk and become less rich. The change in my job is not suiting me well. I feel like a fish taken from the sea and put in a fish-bowl. Like a wanderer told to walk in a straight line. And my evenings and weekends are no longer mine alone.

I am so dispirited I have even begun to wonder if there might be some truth in horoscopes. I used to be an avid reader of horoscopes before I became a Christian but not since. But over the Chinese New Year,  almost every magazine I picked up had predictions for the Rooster in this Rabbit year and I confess I peeked. And all 3 predictions I read said the same thing - that this will be a difficult year for me career-wise. And so far, I must say, it has been just that.

What I thought was settling-in blues seems to be lasting far too long. Surely, surely, Lord, there must be more to work than this?

Piecing Together the Jigsaw

I'm reading Boundaries by Cloud and Townsend and I'm amazed at the wealth of insights I receive every time I read and re-read it. I wish I had read this book earlier in my life; but I also wonder if I would have been able to appreciate its truths then. 

I believe God brings me to certain points in my life when jigsaw pieces that had been scrambled before suddenly fall into place. I had this experience once before, when I did the Search for Life course in church in 2008. Now with this book, I am piecing together different aspects of my life again.

The term "boundaries" is usually misinterpreted and many of us (myself included) tend to think we have boundaries in place, in the sense we are not doormats, we behave, and we conduct our lives with a measure of decorum. But I am thankful to Joshua for asking me to read this book, for it has opened up a whole new dimension of self-awareness for me.

I have realised how I have not drawn boundaries in my marriage. I understand why I feel a need for approval from people. And I understand better, the times when I felt resentful even when I was "doing the right thing". These have been huge learning points for me, and after the Bible and Covey's 7 Habits, I will list Boundaries as a book that has had a life-changing impact on me.

I need time to unpack the impact of this book on me. And to censor what I am going to share :) I know you share my excitement over the book, R, and I am hoping you get round to reading it too, my dear older daughter :) I have discovered that I can never discover all of me!

"he was, but one..."

I was reading a post by a young friend on Facebook, and I recognised a familiar angst, frustration. Unlike the legendary 7-year itch, many young teachers feel a 5-year itch. It is a point at which you have learnt enough of the craft and content to be comfortable in the classroom; but it is also the point at which you would have had time to assess your successes and be in a position to evaluate the impact of your work. Many young teachers feel a lack at this point: what have I really achieved? Does my work matter? What have my students really learnt? Surely there is more to life than this?

Having walked this path, it is a crossroad I recognise. In a way, the Ministry of Education also recognises this and there are processes in place to ensure that those who are more able are offered job rotations or promotions round about their 4th year of teaching, to keep them learning and not stagnate. 

But there are sometimes many who don't get such an opportunity to grow, or choose not to take the path, and instead contemplate leaving the profession altogether. I am very aware that each person is called to walk a different path, but it saddens me when effective, caring Christian teachers leave. Because I ask, who then do you leave the children to? Who will take your place? 

It is sad that the more effective and caring a teacher is, the more quickly he / she gets burnt out. And if the caring teachers who are willing to go the extra mile, and the next mile, and the next mile, leave, then the ones left in our schools might well be the ones for whom teaching is just a Mon to Fri job that ensures a paycheck. 

So, my young friend, yes, there are injustices in the world. But as Jesus said, you will always have the poor with you. Will you always have that opportunity to have these students in your class for you to model Jesus to? The injustices of the world were there before you became a teacher and they will be there after you retire. But how long will you have that 14 year old in your classroom,  maybe thinking about the latest gadget and wishing your lesson will end, yes, but still, in your classroom. Looking at your face, feeling your hand on his shoulder, listening to your words and experiencing the presence of Christ in you in a far deeper way than you will now realise.

So I say to you, don't give up. Remember Abraham. Remember God says "he was but one, when I called him, that I might call him and bless him" (Isa 51:2). 

You and I are "but one". But the same God who saved the nations through the obedience of one, will multiply your efforts. The same God who sent his One and Only to save generations, can and will bless your students therough you. You will never know till you see His face, how he has used the faithfulness of "one".