Seems like this morning


She rose very early each morning, so if I wanted to spend time with her, I must also be properly dressed and wide awake but (hair not always brushed)before I headed down the staircase to ring her doorbell; unless she had allowed me to share her bed the previous night.

If when she allowed me to share her bed, it would have been at a time when my parents were out of town, and when no one else was there to keep her company, which was actually quite often. Those were the days when I was still in primary school.

During school days, I would sometimes be allowed to go to her house for afternoon tea. Her afternoon teas were a weekly big event for little me! The table always laid out perfectly with her blue & white gold rimmed tea set. Someone would have gotten boxes of cakes from Furama or the Mandarin. I, along with Uncle Derek, Her, Candice and whoever else happened to be at her house would enjoy at least a good hour of tea, cakes and casual conversations. It was the only time of the day that she was most relaxed.

Her voice stills rings in my ears:"Come now darling, let’s have some tea!"

Saturday mornings, after I would have been wrestling with the Stieff giant green crocodile underneath her desk, she would then take me to her office in Central and I had to entertain myself while waiting for her to finish her work.

I used to make a lot of noise playing with paper jungle animals that I made out of scrap paper from the photocopier bin. Her brother would peered through the folding blinds from his office, frowning. Then let out a big audible sigh and shut his door annoyingly.

She would then poke her head out to smile lovingly, checking on me, shaking her head at the same time, and then rushed through what she had to do and take me out. She held my little hand so tightly when we crossed the busy streets, heading to the basement of Landmark for our Japanese lunch. She seemed to have so much energy those days, after lunch we’d go shopping at the Lane Crawford.(Where the Giant Green Croc came from.)

This was the routine that she stuck to for so many years. All those Saturday evenings when she was at home, we would sit on her pink bed and watch [60 minutes plus]. Then we had to discuss what was shown that evening. Although I never could fully understand everything that was covered on that show, nonetheless she still took the time to explain to me her own views and would later in return wanted hear my views.

I had never known until I grew much older that probably everyone, especially men on the face of this earth must have wanted to share her bed or to keep her company. In my eyes, she was just my god-mother, a kind and generous lady. Who cared for me, carefully brushed my tightly tangled hair, let me play with her make-up, asked me for opinion about a dress that she might wear to a function, invited me to the television stations for shows that she had to record. Introduced me to everyone that she had meetings with, let me play at her house(s), gave me a room to mess about in, cooked me cheese eggs & pasta, hugged me when I felt uneasy, assured me that all was sorted and there is nothing to worry about, kissed me on my apple cheeks, patted my head lovingly, held me down for eye drops, cheered me on when I had to drink Chinese Bitter medicine tea, praised me when I can do something that she thought most children could not managed, encouraged me when I failed absolutely EVERY subject in school! Wished me well when I had to leave for boarding school, wrote me long letters, came to pick me up at half terms and exeats, took me to Europe & China when she must work.

I honestly felt loved and cherished.

It might be that she was just lonely, but at the very very least, she let me keep her company; and I was most grateful that she did.

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