Not Late, Not Yet

Not Late, Not Yet

Written originally by Jennifer Soh Li Wen, 15^th January 2012, Sunday, 9:05 a.m.-10:01 a.m., in middle room, University Heights, specially dedicated to my appreciative neighbour, Peter Soh Weng Khai. (Note: I am privileged to be given the trust to write about his Beloved Ah Ma.)

When you have nothing,

God will give you something;

When there are people so many,

There is none other like my Granny.

Spring,

May;

Internship,

Friday.

Planning does not go our way,

She did not meet Saturday;

Supposed to be discharged on that day,

From the hospital I can still see today.

Time passes by,

I miss her and I cry;

Healing does come by,

But madly I still cry.

Memory never fades,

She was so much in faith;

Giving me hope in life in all she said,

Giving me all the love soulful of grace.

I really miss her in her kebaya,

She was so elegant in her kebaya;

On Friday she passed away,

On Friday my world turned gray.

In the emergency unit she laid,

There must be a death angel, who said,

“I have come in your presence,

The world will miss your absence.”

My Aunty was with her the previous night,

Was the moon even bright?

Because after twilight,

She was not the same as that night.

The next morning,

She was sent to the emergency unit;

My Granny wanted to say something,

But the oxygen mask ate it.

That was the last of her,

She left us with a question;

For the whole month I was in depression,

No one could give any answer.

Her funeral,

It was not the last thing I could remember;

I dreamt of her 5 times in interval,

The last was the day before I came back to USM for 1^st Sem’s September.

That was when my Aunty said,

“Ah Ma has paid you a visit;

Before you go to Penang,”

In my heart her words they sang.

My 21^st Birthday,

That was the last I saw her in her kebaya;

Before she passed away,

She became thin but still so bermaya.

She was a woman of 75,

I know death will arrive;

To everybody who is alive,

There is no way to survive.

But to me,

It is not like this;

My Granny,

She is such bliss.

Her touch,

Her smile;

Her laugh,

Her style.

“Ah Ma,

There are so many things;

That I want to tell you,

You cannot leave me like this,

I need you,

I want the whole world to know;

That you are my gold,

Your hands I hold,

I love and honour you so.”

My heart tells me,

Not to believe it;

You are still with me,

You are a Superwoman who is still fit.

As long as I am living,

You shall live in me;

My breath is yours to breathe,

I can now see the moon shining.

“Ah Ma,

You are not late;

No, not yet,

I still need time to tell all people that you are great,

The person who gives me faith,

The person who gives me grace;

Oh, there must be a bridge to you I know somehow,

I will not call you late, no, not now.” 

When I Call You Home

When I Call You Home

Written Originally by Jennifer Soh Li Wen, 12^th January 2012, Thursday, 10:52 a.m.-11:52 a.m., In My Middle Room, University Heights, Specially Dedicated to My Appreciative Neighbour, Peter Soh Weng Khai.

Time,

Runs a mime;

Precious as dime,

Now is prime.

This first semester,

Here in USM;

Started last September,

Now it is coming to an end,

How busy I am,

Only went back twice a sem;

The hour-glass flows its sand,

I miss my home,

Deeply my heart sank.

Home,

Why are you home?

You give me hope,

You make me not alone,

Home,

What makes you home?

You do not look like Rome,

But you are as strong and tough as chrome.

This Chinese New Year,

I cannot hesitate to go home;

This Dragon Year,

I carry my green kebaya home.

This semester,

There is so much to challenge;

It makes me bolder,

In and out I am strengthened.

At home in one trip,

Then another trip;

I gained a relationship,

I lost a friendship.

People come and go,

Life goes on;

You reap what you sow,

Let the days of bygone be bygone.

For my Valentine,

I will make it mine;

A new kebaya with a shine,

Especially for my dearest so fine.

My tradition is my obligation,

My family is my perfection;

My home is my resuscitation,

My dearest is my affection.

The reunion dinner,

This Chinese New Year;

The Water Dragon Year,

Mom is the winner,

Dad is the breadwinner,

Sister is the thinker;

I know I will not get thinner.

I will make sure I am fit,

For my next kebaya;

Bak gua I will still eat,

I simply love my Raya.

I am aiming for white,

The colour for my kebaya biku;

With the scallop (ombak) neckline so bright,

The sleeves are as beautiful and smooth as haiku.

For the first day of the Chinese New Year,

My red samfoo is already waiting for me;

Prosperity I shall bring specially for my family,

I humbly kneel down to pang teh to my parents for a good year.

I thank God for creating the special me,

The appreciating tradition me;

The more I age,

The more I appreciate,

My beautiful heritage,

My performances on stage;

My kebaya collection will not be caged,

For none is meant to be a forgotten vintage.

I cannot hesitate to go home,

I miss my beautiful family;

I shall start preparing and packing,

I shall look as good as gold.

My reunion with my family,

It means so much to me;

I do not have to be a hypocrite,

I just eat what I want to eat.

There must be a reason why you are home,

It is when I call you home;

I know you are my own,

And look how much you have grown!