Savouring the good life and a historic moment

Singapore started the weekend in absolute gaga mood. On Saturday, 9.12am local time, our national swimmer, Joseph Schooling swam the race of his life in the Rio Olympics 100m men’s butterfly event and struck gold. He beat the greatest Olympian swimmer of all time, Michael Phelps and even broke his Olympic record. It was the first Olympic gold any Singaporean had ever won.




Our Nation struck Gold at the Rio Games!
 

Hearing our national anthem played for the very first time in an Olympic final and watching the young man, only 21 years of age, stepping onto the podium to receive his medal moved the nation to tears. Well, at least according to the wave of text messages I receive from friends and colleagues who freely shared their feelings about this historic achievement. We are a tiny nation but with a population of close to 5 million, many felt that our nation, not poor by any means, should have done far better in the sporting arena. Of course many factors come into play to explain our sporting slump. Not least our heavy emphasis on academic excellence in schools all over the country, placing sports and artistic achievements as distant seconds.

But for this Rio Games, Schooling has given his country-men a lot to cheer for.  Still one wonders if his parents had not made the bold decision to send him to the US at the tender age of 13 to be schooled and trained there, he would have achieved such stunning success.



 

Our MOE has a good sense of humour

Even then, nobody can deny that a true-blue Singaporean boy is now an Olympic record-holder. The nation is in celebratory mood like never before. Punters and gamblers were out in force to place bets on the number 5039, following the record time of 50.39 seconds clocked in the race. But the big question on a lot of people was whether the following Monday would be declared a public holiday. But the joke was that “Everybody likes Schooling”, so there would be no question that Monday would be another schooling day! Our Ministry of Education followed up with a posting to clear the air in equal humorous fashion.

A local journalist, senior in years, wrote that this achievement might not have been thought to be possible in his lifetime. Well it certainly did not happen in Jenny’s lifetime.  Jenny does not follow sporting developments very closely but even she would have been overwhelmed by Schooling’s success.

In church today, I reflected on how pleasant life has been for our family, especially on weekends at home with the kids. They helped with the grocery shopping. My elder boy W put his culinary skills to practice, whipping up a nutritious but gorgeously savoury meal for us – guinoa salad, a vegetable stew and baked salted sea bass. The new football season kicked off this weekend, which gave soccer crazy fans like me a renewed lease of life on dull weekend nights. Sunday mornings the kids are enticed out of bed with Dad’s “signature breakfast” meals – French toast, pancakes or cheese omelettes.  Sunday lunches are escapades to explore further gastronomical delights our country can offer.

Daughter caught cat-napping on our new sofa seat.

Last week we went furniture shopping at Ikea. Our battered up old leather seater, a centre-piece in our living room had seen better days. Now a painful eye-sore, it is in dire need for replacement. As far back as when Jenny was still alive, we have not had much luck finding something we could all agree on, dilly-dallying and always putting off the purchase to a later date. Dad may be the one paying for it but the kids veto for a collective decision could not be ignored. This time at Ikea, we struck pay dirt. To our huge relief we found a fabric 3-seater that our picky butts could all agree on. The days of our old sofa are definitely numbered. 

Our family is a fantastic team. Even as a vital cog is dearly missing. But what a difference if Mum is still with us. How much more complete life would be. Everywhere we went and everything we do, I feel her absence.

End of Sunday Mass, as usual we gathered at the church columbarium. One of her sisters had placed a small but delightful-looking bouquet of purple flowers at her niche.  But horticulture-wise I am too dumb to tell the name of the flower. Let me know if you do. They were strikingly beautiful. And Jenny would have loved it for sure.  It matches the purple sleeved dress that I often picture her to be wearing for weekend mass.

Pretty purple flowers adorning Jenny's niche this Sunday
 

Still, I felt the same old familiar woeful feeling weighing me down. We were savouring as good as what life can best possibly offer – revelling in the joy of our nation’s unprecedented sporting success, feasting on scrumptious delectable delights and so on. But Jenny has to be contented with just a pretty bunch of flowers.

Still, we need to move on with our lives. And live life the best we can. She would want us to. And not any other way. It’s the only way to honour her. And Jenny always deserve the best, even in passing.