I received a WhatsApp message about celebrating life. About appreciating and enjoying the moments and times spent with family, friends and loved ones. It was a nice message, and one that I agree with. But did I? Do we? Make time, enough time to communicate. Be physically and mentally present. Care and love. Create and share experiences. I pondered.

Yes, I probably did as a child, and through my adolescence. I lived at home with my parents and siblings. By default, I spent a lot of time with them. It’s not a complaint. In fact, they were mostly happy times. Admittedly, they might be a bit blurry and a tad rose-tinted.

My memory includes a lot of time playing and feeling carefree. With brothers’ number 1 and 2. We were the youngest three of seven siblings. We were out and about in the open – running, throwing, riding. There were no gadgets or computer games at home. They were either not available or unaffordable. The latter is more likely. Never mind. Back then it was about being creative and/or making your own toys. We did or rather brother number 1 did. He was the real McCoy, MacGyver. He made a functional wooden box car that we rode in and a hand sawn wooden gun that we shot each other with using the fruit of the suji tree as bullets.

I also spent a fair amount of time with my mum while the rest of my siblings were at school. I tagged along with her to the wet market every morning, siphoning 15 sen from her RM1 daily food budget for treats like ‘cendol,’ ‘bee-hoon’ and fruits. I accompanied her to see sister number 4 in the hospital after her appendicitis operation. With my dad, there were visits to relatives particularly in Penang. The journey via trunk roads, past paddy fields, followed by a ferry ride from Butterworth to the island was mostly enjoyable.

As for my sisters, we didn’t hang out much when I was very little. Except for sister number 3, who fed and cared for my brothers and me. Even now, she loves to cook and feed us sumptuous meals. She still makes time for me, and is caring, loving and kind. Which was why my mum had enlisted her help to be by my side, and ensure that I’d be alright after she passed. Talk about planning.

My teenage years were probably spent half and half at home and at school. On studies, sports, friends, TV and movie star crushes, and family. All through my school going years, I remember I waved goodbye to my mum until I could no longer see her standing in the doorway. She made ‘kuihs’ like tepung talam for me to take for Teachers’ Day. And, after sisters 1,3,4 and brother number 2 went abroad in the 1970’s, it was sister number 2, brother number 1 and me who stayed on with my parents. We were in the trenches, so to speak. Then, sister number 2 left for India to get married, and later migrated to Australia. Brother number 1 and I were the remainers. We were together a lot, albeit a few niggles. While I was in university for four years, I didn’t stay away from home. Every three weeks, I’d jump on a bus and/or get a lift from brother number 1 to and from university/home. I missed my mum as she did me. It was at university that I realised I was like a homing pigeon.

After university, I worked, got married, continued working, and later cared for my mum. In the early days, I lived with my mum and brother number 1’s young family in Subang Jaya.  After marriage, my husband and I decided to live in England for a while. The plan was to work, and travel all around Europe. I came back in under a year as things didn’t work out for me on the work front. This is true. I started work at a PR firm, the day after I returned home. I carried on as if I never left. My mum and I went out every Thursday whilst she lived with brother number I. My mum, nephew and niece stayed with my husband and me during the school holidays at our condominium in Cameron Towers. A few years later, my mum moved in with us after we relocated to Kuala Lumpur. Thereafter, she moved into her own unit.

Over the years, my mum, my siblings and I have kept in touch with each other – at different frequencies and intensities. We visited each other. We met up, caught up, and spent time together. Looking back, I’m grateful that a lot of my life involved my mum and being with my mum. I miss her plenty.

If there’s one takeaway, it’s to make time, when/where possible, for the people, who matter most … now.