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Happy Place, Happy Space / Remembering GrandMama

Left: Grandmama (Ruth Koh Joo Jee, born August 1922) in her late teens), Right: Grandmama as a young adult

This is Grandmama carrying Younger Sister, and that’s me, next to them, eating my ice cream

The following is a creative non-fiction piece I wrote several years ago, inspired by these Sunday visits.

I learned the world from Grandmama’s lap. 

Sometimes it was still and soft, as she patted me to sleep on hot humid afternoons, the ceiling fan singing a ketuk ketuk (tap/knock/strike in Malay) lullaby. Her everyday sarong, worn out with countless washings, provided me with hours of amusement as I scratched gently at the faded flowers, reminiscent of brighter days. The scent of her after shower Cuticura: All purpose Talcom Powder tickled my nose as I nestled closer to feel the rumble of a tune in her chest. 

Other times it was frenetic, bouncing to distract me from squirming off when she didn’t feel inclined to chase me around the terraced house, the fruited garden. Nor down the driveway to where the wizened ice cream uncle feebly shook his bell and called out his wares, shielded from sight under the giant yellow Magnolia umbrella.

“Mama! Mama! Ice cream!”

“Okay, sayang (dear), coming coming.” She pulled a crumpled note from inside her slippery polyester blouse as she waddled quickly towards me, her weathered cha kiak (wooden clogs) click-clacking against the concrete driveway.

I chased after her on my short, stubby legs. Panting from the exertion, she picked me up once we reached the ice cream cart, so I could peer into the freezer chest of delights: chocolate chip, raspberry ripple, or sweet corn served between wafers or pillow soft bread.

Selection made, I slid down from Grandmama’s arms, and we strolled back to the shaded porch. Grandmama returned to the rattan sofa, sinking into the soft cushions with a sigh of relief, mopping her brow with an embroidered greying pink hanky pulled out also from her now sweat-stained blouse.  I triumphantly clambered back onto my throne to savour my prize, as she wiped dribbles of raspberry ripple from her sarong.

There were dark, overcast evenings, when swollen clouds gathered, the air ominous, electric. She murmured to faceless persons who threatened the sultry peace. She grumbled them away, stroking my hair as I stirred restless in a dream state, smoothing the troubles that had landed in her lap. Away, away, she hissed to the mischievous spirits, there is no place for you here. Most of the time, they seemed to listen. But sometimes, they settled in the eaves of the roof, watching, waiting for weak resolve. Grandmama was always vigilant, a little on edge. She guarded me fiercely and fearlessly. So, I too learned to look from the corner of my eye; to know that everything was not the way they looked and seemed.

You left us too soon, Grandmama. My kiddies would have enjoyed you so much, as you would have doted on them.

We remember.

With this post I  join bloggers who delight in simple pleasures, marvel at the lovely, take time to be thankful despite the world gone crazy. Reading your joyful posts brings me to my happy place. I compile them in the hope you will find them restorative too.

If you would like to join in Happy Place, Happy Space, ping back to this post and I will include you next week. 

• Barbara at Thistles and Kiwis embarks on a Bee (the sculptural sort) Trail
• Bernie at Equipoise Life relishes quiet time
• Kate at Xingfumama delights in fall flowers
• Laurie at Notes from the Hinterland bids farewell to the summer, and welcomes fall
• Maria at Green Dreams Sweden enjoys walks in Stockholm
• Sarah at Travel With Me considers the idea of harmony & difference
• Teresa at My Camera & I explores Franston on a bonus walk
• Tish at Writer on the Edge encounters Morning Glory
• Xenia at Tranature travels to the remote Loch Ossian

This post is also my contribution to

• Whatsoever is Lovely hosted by XingfuMama