Long days of hard labour, then evenings perched on parked lorries with friends who felt like family. My grandmother’s happiest years weren’t easy ones. They were simple, shared, and full of laughter along Amoy Street.
Born in 1938 to a father who believed school was only for sons, my mother never spent a single day in a classroom. By eight, she was already sweeping floors, cooking, and raising her siblings while her brothers were sent to study. Long before she could read a single word herself, she made sure her younger sisters never missed a day of school and only in her twenties, through free night classes, did she finally learn to read and write.
One of my most memorable memories of her is how she never gave up, even during difficult times. After her stroke, she continued to show courage and patience despite challenges she faced. Watching her strength taught me the true meaning of perseverance and unconditional love.
By the time we were all grown, her hands had become worn and wrinkled from years of labour. Yet, she never expressed regret. She would say she had lived a meaningful life. She did not regret marrying my father, leaving her hometown, or coming to Singapore alone without family or friends.
I once asked my mother, “What was the unhappiest time in your life?” She replied that she felt a sense of emptiness and sadness when I went off to university and started working—that she felt like she no longer had a place in my life. Her colleagues even told me the same thing, saying that during that time, they saw her desk filled with A4 sheets covered with my name written over and over again.
Life will not always go as planned. There will be moments when things shift without warning. What you hold on to in those moments matters… That a cheerful heart, even in difficulty, is not something small. It changes how you carry the weight.