Honour the mums who sacrificed for their children

We often celebrate women's achievements in their careers. What about the single mums who juggle raising kids and providing for them?

- Chua Mui Hoong

At a funeral parlour in Kuala Lumpur, about 50 of us are seated in the hall. Some are fellow church mates, here to say 'Goodbye, and see you in Heaven'. Others are friends or relatives.

Those of us in white are family members. We are here to grieve and honour the life of someone we call Tai Por, Por Por, Ah Ma—great-grandma, grandma, mum—or sister, auntie, grand-auntie.

She was 97 when she died recently. When I saw her a year ago, she was alert and cheerful. Her appetite was better than mine. At two family dinners, I got to sit beside her, as I was the guest who had flown in from Australia to Malaysia to visit. I introduced her to my partner, who is Irish-Australian. Although they had no language in common, she patted his hand, smiled and gave us her blessing.

The relationships of the elders among my parents' generation were complex. What matters is that over the decades, the families found a way to focus on the present and to move forward. Siblings and step-siblings learnt to care for one other. Occasional visits became regular. Aunties and uncles developed relationships with nieces and nephews, some very fond and loving. The internet and WhatsApp chats and video calls eased communication.

So when she died, all of us made our way to the funeral. Seven children and step-children showed up, from Malaysia, Singapore and Australia. Some had grown up with her daily. Some had left for other places in their childhood. And others got to know her only much later in their lives. It didn't matter. We were all united by our fondness and love for her, and for each other.

Over two days of funeral wake, a Christian memorial service and the cremation, we talked, shared, laughed, cried and bonded.

I learnt just how hard life was for her, as a single mother, and her three children.