GIVE PRAISE WHEN THEY ARE WITH US

I was driving along the motorway and suddenly I saw a big group of cyclists pedaling as fast as their legs could muster the strength. It was an amazing sight, just watching them in their multi-coloured lycra cycling suits, pedaling in unison with the wind behind their backs.

Life is always the first indication of summer. The apple tree is my garden is now laden with apples again and the bulbs I had planted around it when the ground was caked with frost are now flowering aggressively. There are more wild birds pecking at the bird feeders and most of all daylight hours are getting longer.

When we live near the equator we go to bed expecting the sun to rise the next day. When we head for the beach, we expect to see the sun set at almost fixed times. But now, at 10pm, the sun is still brightly shining over Ireland and I will nostalgically say the Malaysian sun has risen again.

This sets me thinking that sadly we sometimes do not seem to realise what we have until it is gone. Only when we lose something, then we are reminded of its value and wished we had appreciated it. We falsely convince ourselves that everything around us will remain constant – firstly, the people around us and secondly our sense of worth.
Human nature is such that we tend to take those who are closest to us for granted until they are no longer there. Only then do we see how big their impact really was. We hear beautiful eulogies being read and wonder why we are stingy with our praises to the living.
My mother in her wisdom told me to appreciate life. To her it is better to tell the person how wonderful she is and to affirm her worth when she is alive than to burn a thousand candles when she is gone. Yet, we oftentimes forget to express love and gratitude to our family members, our good friends and those who are concerned about us. In the heat of an argument, when we let words fly, a good yardstick is to stop in our tracks and say to ourselves ‘will I still say the same thing to defend my stand if I know she’ll be gone tomorrow?’
I have a friend whose son has not spoken to her for years after a misunderstanding. I wonder how he would feel if one day she is gone and he has not made his peace with her or vice versa. Parent-child conflicts are nothing new and there is no prescribed method for reconciliation. Kahlil Gibran, a Lebanese American artist, poet, and writer said it best, "Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."
We also sometimes take our sense of worth for granted until it is snatched away.
Our self worth is the spark that keeps us alive. Depression gnaws at self worth and the city with its busy people has no time for forging deep relationships. The price we pay for modernity and the respect for privacy is non-interference into other people’s affairs. As more people keep their problems to themselves, having no outlet to unleash their sorrows, it is no wonder that the annual report of the National Office for Suicide Prevention shows that Ireland has the fifth highest rate of youth suicide in Europe.

I was sitting next to an acquaintance in a church service and after the initial pleasantries, she told me she was on anti-depressant pills. To her, the world has become very unappealing and creativity is at an all time low. We all thrive on creativity which ranges from keeping the house and garden tidy to the finest oil painting. If a person feels no impetus to work or to engage in any activity that used to delight, something starts to die within. In some cases work acts as a catalyst for the creative force to be allowed expression and for the individual once again to start to feel: “I too am somebody.”
Before I left the church I gave her a piece of paper where I had scribbled my name and contact number and the words, ‘Call me if you would like someone to talk to over a cup of tea.’
I wanted her to feel alive again.

ROLE MODELS TO CHERISH

Looking at Ben Bulben, a large rock formation in County Sligo, I was reminded of the Irish poet William Butler Yeats. In fact, County Sligo is also known as Yeats’ country as it is the area where he grew up, to which he returned often and where he is buried.

Among his many poems is ‘Prayer for my daughter’ where we see Yeats in the role of an anxious father brooding over his young daughter's future where he wants his daughter to inherit the traits that would allow her to lead a complete and fulfilling life. I cannot help but agree that in this temporal world there are few things that hold significance. One of them is our legacy to our children: how we can bring them up to be individuals who are at peace with themselves and who inspire others.

I have a little notebook where I pen interesting quotes. The number of inspirational quotes describing fatherhood shows just how important this one man is to his family.

Jim Valvano an American college basketball coach said, ‘My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me.’ Believing that someone is able to achieve his vision is the catalyst towards achieving the drean, When President J. F. Kennedy declared to the world that America would put man on the moon by the end of the decade, space technology was at its infancy. But on July 20, 1969, Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon and made his famous statement, "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."

Clarence Budington Kelland who once described himself as "the best second-rate writer in America" said that his father did not tell him how to live. In fact he lived, and let Clarence watch him do it. Basically it is the setting of a good example for the child to follow and this builds up self esteem. It is not by telling but rather by showing the child that he is valued, by spending time, by talking and listening, by praising and by teaching that he grows up to be competent.

Mark Twain in "Old Times on the Mississippi" Atlantic Monthly, 1874 said,
‘When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.’ It is amazing that the image of the father changes through a child’s eyes. A toddler thinks that his father can do anything. A teenager laments that his father is hopelessly old-fashioned. A yuppie thinks that his old man is out-of-date. Interestingly enough, Charles Wadworth, a classical pianist and musical promoter, who gained international renown in 1960 says that by the time a man realises that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he is wrong.

Parenting is a partnership and there should be mutual respect between the child's parents as children will mimic their parents' behaviour. Parents should be on the same page about how to discipline and reward the child. Someone once said a father is someone who makes sure you do what your mother says. That I think is a very wise father indeed.

Finally, fatherhood is about both fun and responsibility. The key word is spending time to know the child or he will otherwise help to create an emotional wasteland. Research has shown that children feel estranged from parents who are unable to accurately express their feelings. Childhood is fleeting and lost moments of intimacy cannot be regained. Bertrand Russell, a British philosopher and social critic said that the place of the father in the modern suburban family is a very small one particularly if he plays golf.

Yeats once gave a private reading in the Lady Gregory Augusta’s library in Coole Park. His young daughter was playing at his feet while he was “flourishing” as they say, waving his arms, expounding on the poem. But the child would not leave him alone. Her nose was runny and she kept coming up to him and yanking his coat. He put the book down, reached into his pocket, took out a large handkerchief which he had been waving wildly earlier, went down to the little girl and got her to blow her nose. Then he put it back in his pocket and continued reading. He did not chase her off and instead just stopped everything and took care of it. That was the father in him.

GOOD GUESTS REFLECT GOOD UPBRINGING

TWO notable figures visited Ireland in May -- Queen Elizabeth and United States President Barack Obama.
The queen's visit was mainly perceived as symbol of reconciliation, as the queen paid tribute in the Garden of Remembrance to the Irish who died resisting British rule.

There was also the singing of the British national anthem in Croke Park, the heartland of Irish nationalism and scene of a bloody massacre.

On the other hand, Obama fever swept through Moneygall, a village on the main road to Limerick, with US Secret Service agents moving in as locals painted their houses, builders plastering frantically and repairing the footpaths. Records show Obama's great-great-great-great-grandfather was a shoemaker in Moneygall and his son, Falmouth Kearney, left for New York in 1850.

Two different guests with two different agendas were warmly received by the host country. This reminds me of the pleasure (or displeasure) of having guests in our homes.

Malaysians, by and large, observe this beautiful tradition of welcoming guests to our homes. We would also make it a point to bring a present for our hosts.

It is not uncommon for guests to call in unannounced in my parents' generation especially in the outskirts of town. However, now that many of us work long hours at the office, the trend of guests informing the hosts before arrival is catching on, especially in the cities.

There is usually a lot of preparation before the guest finally arrives. The house is spruced up and food is prepared. Usually the host takes the trouble to plan an itinerary if the guest comes to stay a few days.

Even as we welcome guests into our homes, we must be mindful of being considerate guests ourselves. More often than not, we should be aware of unwritten rules or different cultural practices.

Being a good guest often reflects the way we have been brought up. Parents glow with pride when someone tells them that their child has been a great guest and the hosts would love to have her back in their house again anytime.

I live in a very scenic town and I have had the pleasure of having quite a few guests at many different times of the year.

Indeed, guests come in different packages.

So, what makes a good guest?

A good guest is one who makes arrangements for transportation and do not rely on the host to provide taxi service.

He could also offer to wash up after a meal, cook a meal or take the host out for a meal.

He should also read up about the country he is visiting before he comes and bring enough local currency with him and not depend on his host to pay for almost everything.

Besides that, the guest should also be sensitive to how things are done around the host's house.

The members of the family may watch certain television shows and eat certain foods and the guest should not be imposing or demanding or making comments that things are not done the way he is used to.

I had to put up a no-smoking sign after I discovered that a guest had happily polluted the air and left cigarette butts in the fireplace in the sitting room.

There was another guest who made it quite clear that nothing in my neighbourhood would ever measure up to where she had been.

While there were guests who made me appreciate the normal life I had before they arrived, there were some whom I would miss terribly when they had gone home.

These were the ones who appreciated the fact that we had gone out of the way to make them feel welcome, set aside time for them and tried to make their stay as comfortable as possible.

MY PSALM

To the chief musician on an eight stringed harp and a tin whistle.

THE PSALM OF K.E.L.L.S
( Kingship- Enlightenment-Love-Life-Spirit )

You are my God of many names
Yesterday, today, tomorrow – You are still the same

JEHOVAH ROHI You are my Shepherd
From your warm embrace, I can soar like a bird

JEHOVAH JIREH You are my constant Provider
My blessings overflow, I am content forever

JEHOVAH SHALOM, You are my Peace
My fears and worries, to You I release

JEHOVAH ROPHE, You heal me inside out
Gaping wounds disappear, as I gladly shout

JEHOVAH SHAMMAH, My God’s there for me
Through the seconds, hours and days…faithful is He

JEHOVAH TSIDKENU, righteous is my God
You teach me holiness in deed and in thought

You are my God of many names
Yesterday, today, tomorrow – You are still the same

(For safekeeping at Trinity College……….hopefully)

FORGIVE AND BE FREE

THE 14th Dalai Lama arrived in Ireland for his first visit in 20 years last month.
The 76-year-old exiled Tibetan leader and Nobel Peace Prize laureate who fled his country in 1959 spoke on universal responsibility and the individual's responsibility to take action for change at sold out events in Dublin, Kildare and Limerick.

One of the underlying themes was on forgiving those who had hurt us. Sitting in the audience was heartbroken Tyrone Gaelic football manager Mickey Harte whose daughter, Michaela McAreavey, 27, was found strangled in her hotel room. She had been on honeymoon on the Indian Ocean island of Mauritius.

Judging from the responses from the audience, I could see that no one was spared the agony of carrying grievances, both recent and long past.
Of late, I have decided to take advantage of the sunny weather to plant potatoes. I have the privilege of having strong arms to plough and break up the topsoil.

All I had to do was to arrange potatoes at selected distances from each other.

As the tubers grew, I had to top up the soil until the potatoes were ready for harvesting. If I did not do that the potatoes would not reach optimum growth and would be choked by weeds before they could be harvested for the cooking pot.

Using this potato planting allegory, we have to consciously invest time and energy to see dreams come true. However, many of us are also unconsciously caught up in an intricate web of grievances and nursing them when we continue to playback hurtful memories with dogged insistence.

Just like adding more top soil to the potato tubers, we feed our wounds and increase the pain.

If we can harvest potatoes, we can also pull out the hurt by the roots so that it grows no more.

I was in Derry in Northern Ireland recently and saw first hand the impact of pain and hurt.

A certain enclave still stands with the words "We will not surrender" and the Bogside murals testify to the atrocities of war.

There is one mural named "The Death of Innocence", which commemorates the death of 14-year-old Annette McGavigan who was the 100th victim of the Troubles in Northern Ireland and one of the first children to be killed.

The little coloured stones at the foot of the mural are the objects she was collecting for a school project when she was shot.

As in many wars, the innocent are caught in between just like the Malay proverb Gajah sama gajah berjuang, pelanduk mati di tengah-tengah (When elephants fight, mousedeer die in the middle).

Forgiveness is the first step towards taking action for change, though it is easier said than done.

Being human, forgiving someone who has wronged us is like physically removing a mountain with our bare hands.

When we cannot forgive, it is us who suffer, not the perpetrator. Paradoxical but true.

Yet, when we will ourselves to forgive a person, the release is immense. We can actually feel the shackles falling off, the same shackles that have kept us captive for so long and we wonder why we had not forgiven sooner.

Some say wounds will heal but scars remain to remind.

I think true freedom comes when you see the scar but you no longer feel any animosity towards the person who hurt you in the first place.

A beautiful example is Richard Moore, who was blinded when he was 10 years old in Derry in 1972.

Charles Innes, a British soldier, had fired a rubber bullet at point blank range into his face.

Moore said: "You can take away my sight, but you cannot take away my vision, which is to help impoverished children all over the world."

Moore went on to found Children in Crossfire, an Irish-based international development charity, which envisages a world where every child can realise his rights.

In fact, the Dalai Lama's visit to Ireland was on the personal invitation of Moore.

Innes was also in the audience and Moore had forgiven him.

CHALLENGING JOURNEY OF MOTHERHOOD

Today is Mother’s Day and as we see the shops decorated with gifts we can buy for our mothers, we think of the mothers that we have and the mothers that we are or will be.

What is so often synonymous with the word ‘mother’ are the words ‘comfort, love and sacrifice’. It is not uncommon to see a mother placing her child’s welfare and interests above herself. She gives the best part of her time and her life to her child.

My mother would make sure that there were hot meals on the table. My pleated school uniform was always neatly ironed and my hair plaited. When I was not feeling well, she would walk a mile to my school during break time so I could take the medicine or the herbal concoction. When I had an upcoming Mandarin test, she would be the examiner, making sure I had a few trial sessions at home before the test. There were so many of us with different personalities but she was exemplary to all of us. She was the one person who was always there for us and never betrayed us.

Now that I am a mother myself, I am still learning to be like her. Whether we like it or not, motherhood is a daily learning process. There is no perfect mother and the lessons never end. Every child is unique and just when you think you have learnt how to handle the child, along comes his brother or sister who is completely different in make-up. I am talking of biological children, step children and adopted children.

Cross cultural adoption made famous by the likes of Angelina Jolie and Madonna has its fair share of trials. I went to see the Chinese State Circus at the Limerick University Concert Hall recently and was pleasantly surprised to see Chinese children with Irish parents sitting in the audience. The children bought popcorn, coke and circus paraphernalia like dancing paper dragons and plastic plates that swivel on sticks. Dressed in their smart little coats, they spoke English with an Irish accent. Looking at the faces of both parents and children, I could see that love, respect and understanding were the pillars behind that union. The Dooleys of Kilkenny were one of such and they had brought their daughter Ruth to the circus to help her understand her roots. I thought that it was a great initiative to bond with their child.

Most mothers worry. When children are studying in a different state or country, we wonder whether they are alright and we constantly pray to God to watch over them, to give them wisdom and to protect them. There will come a time when the children will grow up and leave the nest. Even if the child gets married, he is still a child to the mother. Such is the mother’s heart.

Many mothers can share how their hearts bleed when the children snap at them or are disrespectful. Take the story of Peter Rabbit for example.

When Peter Rabbit disobeyed his mother and entered Mr McGregor’s farm, he ended up hiding in a watering can full of water and caught a cold. When he got home, his mother put him to bed after a dose of camomile tea while his siblings had bread, milk and blackberries for supper. I thought Beatrix Potter had captured ever so beautifully the picture of how a loving mother handled an errant son.

Discipline is one of the hardest tasks of a parent and no child should be left to do whatever he wants. It is much easier to say ‘wait till your father gets home’ but many times the mother is the one left with the enviable task of disciplining the child for the obvious reason that the child misbehaves at no specific time and delayed punishment may lose its impact.

It is hard to watch your child leave for days on end when he does not heed correction but it is important that the mother’s pain and his future is not intertwined. Even as my friend tells me she is still waiting for her son to talk to her, I can feel her heartache. But patience is her fortitude as she waits for the prodigal son to return home.

Motherhood is a journey. Even when we become grandmothers, the challenge not to interfere with the upbringing of the little one is very real.

NOT END OF THE WORLD IF PROBLEM IS NOT FIXED

There is this interesting slideshow that I received recently which started with comforting words for the lonely and lost. Watching slide after slide, I was expecting a helpline like the Befrienders at the end of the whole show only to be amused by the last slide which read ‘If no one else remembers you, the Inland Revenue Service does.’

It is that time of the year again where we have to tabulate our income earned and the claims that we can deduct. This reminds me of the time when I was asked to supply supporting proof for my income and claims for the last six years. As it is not everyday that you get selected for this task, with it came three big words: anxiety, anxiety, and anxiety (especially when some receipts were missing).

The first S.O.S. call was to friends for advice and help. Offering differing answers to my questions, I was no wiser. Like a toddler who has pushed his dinner onto the floor from his high chair, I was getting agitated. I needed someone to clear up my mess so I could go have a cup of strong tea. So entered Elvis, the tax consultant who in no few words promised to lead me to Graceland, for a fee. I was hesitant but when Elvis started to take over the documentation, he had indeed melted my wooden heart. A tidy sum in exchange for peace of mind. That confirmed that I had done the right thing when confronted with an arduous task: leave it to the experts.

How nice the world would be if there is a ‘real’ expert that you can call on for every small job in the house at a reasonable price.

Throughout the winter months, the radiators in our house were chugging sluggishly way below peak performance. We called in a few self claimed expert plumbers and they all had their theories what was wrong but none could solve the problem. It was trial and error all the way: fix this, bleed that, knock this, cut that. By the time the radiators were reasonably cured, winter was over.

As if in a sinister conspiracy with the radiators, the vacuum cleaner decided to make a lot of noise but not clean the gritty carpets which were a pure embarrassment. So we called up the electrical shops only to be told they sold vacuum cleaners but not repair them. Then someone told us that there is this man living in a big yellow house by the old church about 20 minutes drive away who used to be an expert in repairing vacuum cleaners. Now I have my doubts about lugging a heavy vacuum cleaner in search of a big yellow house by the old church about 20 minutes drive away. Worst still, he did not give me the name or house number of this elusive vacuum cleaner expert repairman.

The next best thing was to buy a new smallish vacuum cleaner which promised to do the job while the more expensive but broken one stands in the shed. Even as I am writing this, I just heard that this new three month old vacuum cleaner had decided to blow out dust instead of sucking in. So here we go again.

The word ‘malfunction’ is perhaps the most irritating word ever. We get upset when our car breaks down. We get bothered when equipment that we purchase fail us. We get heartache when we cannot glue back our favourite broken china. We get flustered when the house that we live in literally starts falling apart because of wear and tear.

But then again, Richard Carlson famously said, ‘Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff’.

Fresh food can become stale. New machines can break down in time. The underlying principle is nothing tangible lasts forever. If something can function, then it also can malfunction. If we cannot find an expert to fix a physical problem, at least no one died and it is not the end of the world.

It is not possible to keep everything in pristine condition over time. To make it easier on ourselves when something breaks down, imagine the things that are more difficult if not impossible to fix: a congenital problem, a broken heart, a loss of sanity.