A personal account.. To my Dear Uncle Say Cheng

Written at 7pm by hand on 14th October 2010

Here I am sitting at McDonalds at KL LCCT Airport wiping away my tears as I write a manually written blog.  I've got a 3.5 hour lay over between KL to Singapore tonight so I thought I might as well put it to good use.

If you've been reading my blog, you'll realise that I've virtually stopped blogging about restaurants and classes held at Palate Sensations.  This does not mean I am not interested in etiher but after 5 years in the business, we have evolved and matured to the point where I now have the luxury of examining the spiritual side to running the business.  Hence I write alot more about me because I think many readers want to know how Palate Sensations came about and who drives it.

I have stayed away from making media appearances in the past few years because I am a very shy person.  Putting me in the spotlight is akin to shinning a torch at a moose in the dark.. you get the idea..

What I love and what I have always loved is words.  I love reading.  I love thinking about what it means and I love developing my imagination.  Words wrap around me like an old familiar trusty comforter.  I always felt more articulate writing my thoughts down than speaking them.

Every once in a while, I take stock of my life and ask the question "so how?", "am I happy?", "what else should I do?"  Over the past 5 years I've been fortunate enough to shape my own future.  However, I often worry whether it's all been worth it so far.

My father's brother passed away on Sunday evening.  I didn't know about it until Monday morning when my father attempted to call me several times.  After he tried for the umpteenth time to get through, I surfed Facebook and realised that Uncle Say Cheng had passed away.  Without hesitation, I agreed to fly to Kota Bharu in Malaysia for the funeral.

My grandfather was incredibly enterprising, building a successful trading business from scratch.  He owned among many businesses, a soft drinks factory (it still survives to this day) and several coffee shops.  I would like to think that his entrepreneurial spirit  lives on in me.  Uncle Say Cheng was the 3rd brother in a family of 9 children (my father was the 7th child and the youngest brother).  Uncle Say Cheng was the first child of my grandfather's 2nd wife.  He was born in China and came to Malaysia on a rickety boat at a very young age.  Together with some of his brothers, he opened the first hotel in Kota Bharu.  In it's heyday, it was the best hotel in town.  Among many businesses he dabbled in, he owned a central bookstore and made a killing selling textbooks and scientific equipment to schools.  Through these enterprises, he funded his brother's education overseas (my father studied in Melbourne).  It was obvious he played a key role in our family and many of his brothers and sisters benefited from his foresight and generosity.

I remember many small insignificant things about him: how he loved to buy curry rice for breakfast for us whenever we visited; him sending me off from the bus station when I was backpacking in Malaysia; how he preferred wearing men sarongs over trousers; and how he told my sister at her wedding never to marry a poor man, always a rich man.  I don't know why I remember these things about him but they just stick in my mind after all these years.

Anyway, I held it together for a while.  Together with my cousin Linda and her fiancee Ben, we flew to Kota Bharu yesterday.  I even made them change out of their pink and red tops before we arrived.  We laughed and joked all the way there.  I didn't even cry when Aunty led me to his coffin and told me he looked exactly the same as when he was asleep.

My dad and Linda's mum arrived from Australia and I whispered to Linda that her mum is going to ruin everything for everyone because she is going to cry for sure.  I saw my dad first and she whispered back "but your dad is crying already" and before you know it, the stiff upper lip had cracked and the dam burst unleashing a torrent of tears from all the uncles and aunties.  My own face was splotchy with tears.

As I ask myself why I am crying so hard, I realise I am just a bloody softie.  I even cry when I watch comedies.  I cry when no one cries in movies.  I cried for days when my cat Antonio died.  I cried before he died.  I cried when I picked up his empty cage from the vet.

I cry because I can barely accept that fact that we are mortal.  Having a finite number of days in this world makes me realise how precious life is.  In moments like this, I want to take back every bitchy comment I have ever made to anybody.  At moments like this, I want to abandon my business, living alone in a rented house with 6 cats in a foreign land 8 hours from my home.  Is it all worth it?

I tell myself not to get worked up.  I find letting go easier these days even though I will not let any injustice slip by.  An angry word, a pushy client, a stressed chef, a spot of laziness, these I tend to forgive.  I've learnt that this has helped me manage expectations and relationships.  Having a soft heart coupled with a deeper understanding of human motivations have allowed me to smooth ruffled feathers and get people back on the right track.  I saw the significance of this in our recent move to Biopolis and the way we manage our clients.

I pay more attention to building and repairing relationships rather than how to break them down.  I acknowledge I am not always right.  I like to think that what I wrote in my MBA essays back in 1997/8 about my weaknesses have now been addressed more than 10 years later.  I like to think I talk less and listen more, I am less arrogant and bossy, that I am less excitable and more mellow.  I like to think I am more mature, having lived through a difficult year at IMD and the fact that I have been taken down a peg or two over the years.

Even as we come together to grieve at the funeral, I also realise this occasion was a fantastic opportunity for us to have a family gathering.  After we paid our last respects, we all filed silently to the crematorium, a flower in our hand, our last gesture of goodbye and respect to dear Uncle Say Cheng.  We said our final words and placed them inside the crematorium.  As the generator whirled to life, the workers shut the door and the coffin ignited.  Smoke bellowed out from the chimneys.  I turned away, tears rolling down my cheeks as I cleansed my hands in a bucket of rose petal water.

With the solemnity over and done with, most of us gathered at Uncle Say Ghee's house (6th brother) and the catching up began with uncles and aunties we have not seen since we were kids. All of them were surprised that Linda, Ben and I speak fluent Chinese (we all studied in China).  There was a certain amount of bickering as certain relatives wanted to go shopping immediately while others were reluctant to agree to the request.  I made myself comfortable on the couch and prompty fell asleep.  My only request was for a Kelantan laksa in the 2 hours I had left before departing for the airport.  It was of course delicious with lots of coconut and shaved banana flower.  Thank you Ah Bee!

So this brings me back to sitting at McDonalds red eyed as I recall the past 24 hours in 12 hand written filofax pages.

Yes I wow to love my family more, to let bygones be bygones and to RELAK lah!

Now I better hurry up so that I can meet my flight that will bring me back to a zoo of 6 naughty cats in a rented house in a foreign land 8 hours from my real home!

Lynette