Time Waits for No Man

International travel has irrevocably moved into a new phase after the opening of borders upon Covid-19 pandemic being accepted as endemic in many countries. Many travel procedures have switched from the traditional manual filling of entry forms to filing of forms online in advance of the actual travel. This new requirement undoubtedly will make travel more difficult for the seniors who are not so proficient with online application. We are glad we could still manage to keep abreast with the advancement of new innovation and technology!

Finally on 6 May 2022, we landed at Singapore International Airport after a lapse of more than two years since we last did our international travel to South America at the end of 2019. 

The next day on 7 May, we met our fourth grandchild Madeleine for the very first time in person. She was by then a little over two years old. Unlike her older sister Livvie (Read here), Maddie had no hesitation to be hugged and cuddled by her Sabah grandparents. The many online engagements with her earlier through online media probably helped to ease her apprehension (if any) of meeting her grandparents for the first time (Read here).

Welcome sign specially prepared by Livvie for our arrival to the house.

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We had many great moments and fun times with this set of grandchildren - visiting interesting places and spending time together.

At Flower Dome at Garden by the Bay.

Lunch at Hortus.

At the Mandai River Wonders.

At Livvie's favourite spot - looking at the panda.

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At the Singapore Arts Gallery

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At their Home

Chapter 34: 10 Years On After Mom's Passing

On 5 April 2022, one of my brothers posted in the Family Chat: "Today is the 10th Anniversary of mom's passing". That reminder brought back memory of event in early April 2012.

We arrived Perth on 30 March 2012 and had planned to spend the next three weeks with the family of my daughter. Then on 4 April, we were informed by my siblings that mom had suffered a massive aneurism in her sleep before dawn of 4 April. She fell into instant coma and was rushed to the hospital. Brain scan showed massive hemorrhage in the brain. The doctor indicated that surgery to drain off the bleeding would unlikely save her life. Even if she made it, she might be bed-ridden and in coma for the rest of her life. Just when the siblings were in deliberation, she passed away on 5 April 2012 without ever regaining consciousness. My wife and I immediately decided to cut short our stay and flew back to KK on 8 April for the funeral.

Sudden death is often a traumatic experience for surviving family members. It is unexpected and happens without prior warning. There is no time for saying mutual good-bye. The absence of mutual awareness to separate permanently is a void that may never be filled up. 

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My mother was born in 1928 in Pulutan, Menggatal at a turbulent time when North Borneo was occupied by the Japanese from early 1921 to mid-1945. This may have been the key factor she didn't receive a proper education. Three years after the end of the occupation, she married my father at age 20. She once told me that she in fact had gotten to know someone whom she liked. But unfortunately marrying someone of your choice was not the norm at that point of time. In the end, she married my father because of family arrangement. That of course changed the course of her life. 

She worked very hard all her life, at least up to the time when all her six children had finished education and started working. To supplement the meagre income of my dad as a tailor, she had to do odd jobs beside doing the house chores. She had worked as rubber tapper (Read here), house keeper for expatriates (Read here) and assisted my dad in his tailoring work.

In addition to the seemingly unending house chores, she also had to contend with the lifelong recurring epilepsy of my late eldest brother. She had tried every mean available including consulting Chinese Sinseh, Muslim bomoh, Church elder etc hoping to find a cure. In the end, the epilepsy could not be completely cured. Because of the illness, my late brother had to stop school at age 13. Later on, he learnt the tailoring skill from my late father. With the skill, he worked at home and helped my dad to complete many of the private orders my dad received from friends and acquaintances. My eldest brother eventually passed away in 1986 at age 37. The early death of my brother had taken a toll on my mother and it took a significant time before she finally got over the incident.

Being a Sino-Kadazan, an offspring of Chinese-Kadazan parentage, she was proficient in Kadazan, Malay and Hakka dialect. My mom was closed to her mother, my grandmother. In the 1950's to early 1970's, my grandmother frequently visited our village home. I remember during each visit, they chatted for hours and they were never short of subject to talk about. Then on 28 January 1981, my grandmother who was staying alone at her kampung house in Pulutan was found dead in her house. That incident was traumatic and it took a long period of time for her to get over with.

The high point of her life was when the family finally moved from the village house in Harrington Road to a new house in a housing estate in 1972 which is complete with amenities like piped-in water, telephone and electricity. She stayed in this house for 40 years until her death in 2012.

Her neighbors remember her as someone who was friendly and loved to talk whenever opportunity arose.

This is the earliest family photo taken in a studio when my mother was just 22 years old. It was taken in late 1950 or early 1951 before I was born. 

Family photo taken in CNY 1981. My mother was carrying her third great-grandchild, our eldest child, Serene.

A family photo taken with my parents with all our three children probably in year 1987.

The family celebrated her 60th birthday in 1988.

A family photo taken with my parents in Christmas 2004 at our house. My dad was in poor heath by then. He passed away 13 months later on 25 January 2006 aged 79.

My mom last visited our home in November 2011. She managed to see her great-grandchild, our grandson, Nathan who was by then just one year old. She passed away five month later on 5 April 2012 at age 84.

Chapter 33: From First Generation to Current Sixth Generation

This year I decided to have another visit to the grave of my paternal grandmother who was buried at the BCCM Beaufort cemetery. The last time my wife and I visited the grave was on 26 March 2016, just over six years ago (Read here). This time we were joined by my brother Tak Vui and his wife Kui Moi. Coincidentally, the day of our visit, 5 April 2022 happened to be Ching Ming Festival. Ching Ming also known as Tomb-Sweeping Day is the traditional day when Chinese visit graves of their ancestors to pay respect.

After the visit to the cemetery, we invited our cousin who lives in Beaufort to join us for lunch at a local restaurant.

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Soon after our visit to the cemetery, my sister shared some old photos of my grandmother's grave taken probably in late 1984 or early 1985 soon after a new tombstone was installed. Bouquet of flowers at the grave was most likely placed by my late father when he went to see the new tombstone and to pay respect to his late mother.

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In this recent trip, besides visiting my grandmother's grave, we spent some time searching for the grave of my great grandfather. My brother was adamant that our great grandfather was buried there and he had personally seen his tombstone in previous visit. Unfortunately, I have little re-collection of this.

My brother's assertion was proven right after my sister posted photographs of the original tombstone of my great grandfather. Plan is now in motion to rebuild his tombstone. BCCM Beaufort is also gracious to permit the re-construction of his tombstone even if the exact burial site cannot be located.

In this old photo, the name of my great grandfather, Lee Kon Hee (李观喜) is still visible but the original date of erecting the tombstone is not discernible. This tombstone is unique because it was carved out of a solid piece of large stone. In the tombstone, he is recorded as from Huiyang (惠陽). Though he was from Bolou, he chose Huiyang as the county of his origin. This is probably because Huiyang which is adjoining Bolou is a much bigger district. His descendants have since adopted Huiyang as the county of origin.

Nothing much can be said about my great grandfather because of almost nil information we have about him.

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My grandfather, Lee Thau Lim was born in Bolou (博罗) or Pingshan, China in year 1893 when China was in tumultuous era. Qing Dynasty was at its twilight years. Sun Zhongshan, a western-educated Chinese started a revolution in 1894 to overthrow the corrupt Qing government. First Sino-Japanese war was fought for almost a year from 25 July 1894 to 17 April 1895. Soon after in 1899, the Boxer Rebellion, an anti-foreign, anti-colonial and anti-Christian movement started which lasted to 1901. That movement had disastrous consequences to China. Qing Dynasty finally collapsed in 1911. Eventually, Communist Party of China prevailed and Chairman Mao declared the founding of the People's Republic of China on 1 October 1949.

Many Chinese particularly those residing in southern China began migrating to southeast Asian countries in search of better future and livelihood in early 1900s. It was likely that the difficult lives in China had prompted my great grandfather, Lee Kon Hee to join the queue and took his 16-year old son (my grandfather) to move to North Borneo (now called Sabah) in 1909. They first landed in Beaufort.

My grandfather later on returned to China most likely to look for a wife. He married a girl, Chu Chau Lan (朱招蘭) who was from another county called Heyuen (河源) which is approx. 125 Km northeast of Bolou. After the marriage, he returned to Beaufort in 1927 with his young wife, who by then was carrying their first child, Lee En Sang, my father. My dad was born on 20 November 1927. His dad by then was in his mid-thirties.

According to Church record, my grandmother was baptized by Rev. Lee Wok Sing. Rev Lee, the grandfather of the late Lee Choke Yee (Read here) was a Chinese missionary sent by Basel Mission (Tshung Tsin) to Beaufort in 1927. Upon baptism, her name was changed to Chu En Lan (朱恩蘭), the name which is engraved in her tombstone. 

Sadly, my paternal grandmother had a tragic death in 1937. She was crashed by a fallen tree probably during a tree felling operation. The unexpected tragic death had a severe impact on my grandfather (Read here). He was in depression and my father then 10 years old had to be sent to a lady in Beaufort with surname Leong to be looked after. This madam Leong was married to a man, Lee Tin Kim, bearing the same Lee surname. She became a very important part of my dad's early years and he was deeply attached to her. Though I am unsure whether this lady's husband indeed had any biological relationship with my grandfather, my siblings and I were taught by my father to address her as "Pak Po", our grand-aunty.

Before my grand aunty passed away, my dad visited her at her home in Beaufort. She was someone dear to my father because of the part she played in the formative period of his life particularly after the sudden death of his mother. 

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After 113 years since my great grandfather first landed in Sabah in 1909, his family has expanded five more generations to the latest generation of my grandchildren. The spirit of migration never ceases. Today, his descendants spread over four continents in countries like Australia, Singapore, USA, UK and Malaysia.

NOTE: Historical update based on recollection of my brother Tak Vui's conversation with our grand aunt before she passed away and his reading of Church record.

End of Journey on Earth - RIP John Wan

As much as I try to avoid writing too frequently about the passing of friends, I find no good reason to remain silent about the loss of John Wan, who passed away on 27 March 2022. Some lives leave such a mark that their departure cannot go unacknowledged.

I first received the sad news through a Facebook post by his son, David Wan, on the morning of 27 March. John - whom I fondly and more often called by his given name, Hon Phin - had been a good friend and badminton buddy for as long as I can remember. Over the past few years, his health had been on a slow but visible decline. The passing of his beloved wife in February 2018 may have taken a further toll on his well-being, both physically and emotionally.

John was more than just a friend; he was a comrade-in-arms, someone I had shared countless games, meals, and conversations with over the decades. His sudden departure came at a particularly poignant time - just six weeks earlier, another close badminton buddy who had migrated to Canada had reached out to me, expressing a desire to organize a reunion and "yam cha" session with the old gang upon his return to KK later this year.

There was already a hint of sadness in our conversation when we acknowledged that Peter Lee, another dear member of our group, would no longer be able to join us (Read here). Now, with the passing of Hon Phin, another chair at the reunion table will remain empty.

If the reunion does take place as planned, Hon Phin will be deeply missed. But he will certainly be remembered - in our stories, in our shared laughter, and in the memories that continue to bind us together, even across time and absence.

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Hon Phin was truly a comrade-in-arms in many of our shared endeavours within the BCCM Central Council, BCCM KK, and the schools under the jurisdiction of BCCM KK. His contributions spanned decades, and his legacy remains deeply etched in both church and educational circles.

In the early 1980s, we were actively involved in pioneering cross-cultural evangelistic outreach, particularly among the Rungus community in the interior of Sabah. I still vividly recall one such outreach trip to Pensiangan. After returning, I compiled a set of photographic slides and an accompanying audio recording to document the experience. At that time - long before the digital age when computers and laptops were still in their infancy - group presentations were done using slide projectors. Hon Phin took those slides and audio recordings and put them to good use. He used them not only to raise awareness but also as a tool for fundraising. Remarkably, he even brought them along during a trip to Vancouver, where he shared the presentation with former BCCM members who had migrated to Canada. As a result, several generous donations in Canadian dollars were received.

We also served together for many years on the boards of the three schools under BCCM KK: SM Lok Yuk, SRK Lok Yuk, and SJK(C) Lok Yuk Likas. When BCCM KK (Chinese) and BCCM KK (English) eventually became independent bodies with their own separate councils, the school boards were also restructured. I was appointed as the first Chairman of the School Board for SRK Lok Yuk, while Hon Phin took on the role of the first Chairman for SJK(C) Lok Yuk Likas. His tenure in this position extended for many years and was marked by tireless service and tangible achievements.

His commitment to improving the physical infrastructure of SJK(C) Lok Yuk Likas was especially noteworthy. Under his leadership, and often through his own initiative, two additional school blocks were constructed. One of these buildings included a spacious school hall located on the top floor. I had the privilege of serving as the Civil & Structural Consulting Engineer for both projects. Thanks to Hon Phin’s exceptional public relations skills and extensive network, he managed to raise substantial funds from church members, the wider community, and various levels of government. These projects were completed not just with efficiency, but with vision and care for the future generations.

Even in his passing, his commitment to the school lived on. His family, honoring his legacy, requested that no wreaths be sent. Instead, friends and members of the public were encouraged to donate to SJK(C) Lok Yuk Likas - a fitting tribute to a man whose passion for Chinese education, and for the well-being of the school in particular, was truly extraordinary.

Hon Phin’s contribution to elevating SJK(C) Lok Yuk Likas to the respected institution it is today is indisputable. His legacy lives on - not only in buildings and infrastructure, but in the lives of the students who walk those halls, many of whom will never know the depth of his sacrifice, but who nonetheless benefit from it every day.

Wonderful time!
From left: Liew Kee Yong (Seated), me, Lo Vun Kai,
John Wan, Dr. Thu, Siaw Vui Kiew, Lim Chin Teck.

In the 1980s and 1990s, we had badminton sessions at least twice a week. After a few games, it became our tradition to gather for food and fellowship. John's home was often the welcoming venue for these post-game feasts and friendly conversations, always open to hosting us with warmth and generosity.

This is one of the two blocks completed under his tenure. The school hall is at the top floor.

The Church Council of BCCM KK in early 1980's. John was the Chairman then and in the photo he was seated at the front row fifth from left. I was second from left at the back row. At that time, BCCM KK (E) and BCCM KK (C) still operated as one entity. BCCM KK (C) finally became independent in 1998.

As a delegate from BCCM KK to attend the Biannual BCCM Central Synod in Kudat in early 1980's. John was at front row second from right. I was standing immediately behind him. I was then the youngest among the group. Inevitable in life, many in the group are no longer around!

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On the same day of receiving the news, a former classmate shared in the Chat Group a story by an unnamed author. I find it most appropriate at this time of John Wan's passing. The story has undergone a bit of minor editing.

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A  woman climbed up the bus and sat down beside a man, hitting him with her bag. When the man remained silent, the woman asked him why he did not complain when she hit him with her bag?

The man replied with a smile: "There is no need to be upset about something so insignificant, as our journey together is so short, because I'm getting off at the next stop"

The response impacted the woman so much that she asked the man to forgive her and she was convinced that these words need to be written in gold. 

Each of us must understand that our time in this world is so short, that blackening it with useless arguments, jealousy, unforgiveness, discontentment and bad attitudes are a ridiculous waste of time and energy.

Did someone break your heart?  Stay calm.

The trip is too short. 💛

Did someone betray you, intimidate, cheat or humiliate you? 

Relax - Don't be stressed.

The trip is too short. 💛

Did someone insult you without reason? 

Stay calm. Ignore it.

The trip is too short. 💛

Did someone make a comment  that you didn't like? 

Stay calm. Ignore. Forgive. Keep them in your prayers and love them still for no specific reason. 

The trip is too short. 💛

Whatever the problems some might bring to us, it is a problem only if we think too much of it. Remember that our journey together is too short. 💛

No one knows the length of our trip. No one has seen tomorrow. Nobody knows when the final day will arrive at our doorstep.

Our trip together is too short.💛

Let us appreciate friends and family. Keep them in good humor. Respect them. Let us be respectful, kind, loving and forgiving. Through this, we will be filled with gratitude and joy. 

After all Our trip together is very short. 💛

Share your smiles with everyone. Choose your path to be as beautiful as you wish it to be.

Our Trip is Very Short!  💛

Uncle Wesley Pai Has Gone to Meet the Creator

I last saw Uncle Wesley in early November 2019 at the Tionghua Funeral Parlor in Likas, when I went to pay my final respects to the late Aunty Jainah, his beloved wife (Read here). Earlier this year, I had hoped to visit him again at his home in Kiulu. Sadly, those plans had to be postponed due to the outbreak of the Covid-19 pandemic shortly after the Chinese New Year in February.

News of his passing came on 11 March 2022, when my cousin Esther posted on Facebook that Uncle Wesley had died the day before, on 10 March. At the Tionghua Funeral Parlor on 13 March, Esther shared with us that her father was found unconscious in the compound of his house, apparently while doing some gardening. He never regained consciousness. There were no goodbyes. A dark blue patch was discovered at the back of his neck during the examination of his body. Could it have been an aneurysm, just like the one that took my mother years ago?

He was laid to rest in the family burial ground, just a short walk from his home in Kiulu.

Since Aunty Jainah’s death, Uncle Wesley had continued living in their family home, cared for by a full-time maid. For someone who had spent nearly his entire life closely bonded with his wife, adjusting to her absence must have been unimaginably difficult. Esther told us that, from time to time, her father would be seen wearing his late wife’s clothes around the house - a quiet, poignant reflection of how deeply he missed her. It was a heartwarming and equally heartbreaking detail that spoke volumes about their love.

Through Uncle Wesley, I came to learn much about my maternal family roots (Read here). His passing marks not only the loss of a dear uncle but also the quiet fading of another voice from my mother’s generation.

Over the years, I had visited him several times at his home in Kiulu (Read here), and he too visited me during Chinese New Year in 2013 (Read here).

He will be dearly missed - especially whenever Kiulu is mentioned, or comes to mind.

With cousin, Esther in front of the casket of the deceased.

During my visit to the funeral parlor, I had the opportunity to meet one of Uncle Wesley’s sisters, Aunty Jainih - someone I was meeting for the very first time. The moment I saw her, I was struck by a familiar presence. There was something in her face, her expressions, that reminded me of my mother.

It was an instant connection, and not entirely surprising - after all, they share the same bloodline. Each of them carries a thread of the Gomorun legacy in them, and in Aunty Jainih, I caught a glimpse of that heritage shining through once more.

Chapter 32: Aerogram's Story - An Aborted Trip to Paris

When clearing some of the old files, I found this aerogram written exactly thirty eight years ago on 5 March 1984. This air letter, a thin lightweight piece of folder paper was popular in the 1970s and the 1980s. But by late 1990s when the use of emails exploded worldwide, this mode of exchanging news almost disappeared instantly.

I received this aerogram from my wife when I was in UK for a short course at the Loughbarough University of Technology, UK. The course on "Airports and Environment" lasted a mere five days from 12 March to 16 March 1984. 

Participants of the course on "Airports and Environment" organized by Loughbarough University of Technology, UK.

I had planned to do some sight-seeing including a trip to Paris after the end of the course. After the course, I was supposed to travel south from London to Sandwich after which I would cross the English Channel via the Euro-Tunnel to Paris. That's the reason why the letter was addressed to my sister-in-law's house in Sandwich. That letter arrived to its destination slightly too early. It was re-directed by my SIL to an address in London, a friend's home where I stayed. 

I was supposed to have visited Paris. Unfortunately, at the very last minute, I had to cancel the trip and rushed back to Sabah for a new job interview. Earlier,  just before leaving for UK for the short course which was near the end of my second 3-year employment contract, I had applied for a new job in Permodalan Bumiputra Sabah Berhad (PBSB) - a GLC. In the event I was successful, I would not renew for a third contract with PWD.

According to my wife, the Property Development Manager of PBSB, Mr. Cheng Lik Seng was insistent that I return as soon as possible to attend the interview. In the end, I abandoned the trip to Paris in favour of opting for a new job opportunity. I was fortunate to be successful in my new job interview after I returned. That decision changed the course of my whole life. 

By the time I returned to Sabah, it was just a couple of days before my contract with PWD would end on 7 April 1984. The trip to UK turned out to be a sort of a paid overseas holiday trip for my employment contract.

The decision to forgo the trip to Paris was a bitter-sweet decision. It took another thirty years before I finally visited Paris in 2014 (Read here).

It's Just a While Ago....

Recently, one of my ex-sixth former schoolmates posted an untitled poem in the chat. For this group of people who are hitting the platinum age, it is normal to have nostalgia of the past occasionally.

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Sometimes, I feel I want to go back in time, not to change things, but to feel a couple of things twice.....

Sometimes, I wish I was a baby for a while, not to be walked in the pram but to see my mother's smile.....

Sometimes, I wish I could go back to school, not to become a child but to spend more time with those friends, I never met after school.....

Sometimes, I wish I could be back in college, not to be a rebel but to really understand what I studied......

Sometimes, I wish I was a fresher at my work, not to do less work but to recall the joy of the first pay cheque......

Sometimes, I wish I could marry all over again, not to change the partner but to "feel" the ceremony better......

Sometimes, I wish my kids were younger, not because they grew too fast but to play with them a bit more......

Sometimes, I wish I have more time to live, not to have a longer life but to know what I could give to others.....

Since the times that are gone can never come back, let's enjoy the moments as we live them from now on to the fullest.....

Let's celebrate our lives - Every Moment, Everyday.....

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For these seniors, events come and go exceptionally fast. Many things seem to have happened just a while ago. It seems just a while ago that my fourth grandchild was born (Read here). In the blink of the eyes, she has now grown to be a gutsy little fellow capable of matching the older sister's wittiness. Sadly, the set of grandparents across the South China Sea have yet to physically meet up with her.

Chinese New Year 2022 Virtual Family Reunion.

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Nature is not kinder to us either. Just when Delta variants was subsiding, Omicron surfaced. Travelling plans of many were again dashed.

One former schoolmate exclaimed. "I am craving for Tamparuli mee etc. Aiyaya, but have to wait until better days to come back to KK....."

Tamparuli Mee.

Another ex-classmate who has moved to live overseas lamented: "Life has been the same ever since I came over here, to be honest - it's eating, drinking, gambling and sleeping and of course have to babysit once in a while. Cook and travel whenever permitted. Go to church once a week with my wife. Otherwise, what's the point in life? Looking forward to meet you all in the near future!"

Another who has migrated to Canada texted with a tinge of sadness: "May be the next time when I go back,  we will arrange our former badminton buddies to yam cha (coffee), though Peter Lee (Read here) had already left us for eternity!"

My daughter announced: "Brace yourselves.... Border might be opening soon! We're "dying" to see you!"

These are the news that spike up the daily routine!