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Emily

"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety."

"Do you understand what made me what I am?... I learned that a woman is nothing in this world that men have made, except in the role that men demand of her. Your life is meaningless, you have no value, except as you are a wife and mother: then be the very devil of a wife and mother... so that husband and son and sister-in-law must all depend on you, so that you control them and keep them in the palm of your hand. So that the

Whole World knows your Worth -

So that a screaming girl-child,

long ago, may be reassured that her life has some significance,

that no-one is going to throw her back into the gutter."


"It's all over now. It's all past, it can't be changed..."

"'How to sell,' I said, 'This is the family house for you all to stay.'"

"They sound like voices laughing and talking, echoing in the house."

"Enough driving now, Richard. Mother is getting very tired, you take me home now. Ya, I want to go home and sleep. You are a good boy, you take care of Mother, ya?... My big strong son."


My Old Kentucky Home
The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home,
'Tis summer, the darkies are gay,
The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom
While the birds make music all the day.
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy and bright:
By'n by Hard Times comes a knocking at the door,
Then my old Kentucky Home, good night!

CHORUS:
Weep no more, my lady,
Oh! weep no more today!
We will sing one song
For the old Kentucky Home,
For the old Kentucky Home, far away.

They hunt no more for the possum and the coon
On the meadow, the hill and the shore,
They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon,
On the bench by the old cabin door.
The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart,
With sorrow where all was delight:
The time has come when the darkies have to part,
Then my old Kentucky Home, good night!

The head must bow and the back will have to bend,
Wherever the darkey may go:
A few more days, and the trouble all will end
In the field where the sugar canes grow.
A few more days for to tote the weary load,
No matter 'twill never be light,
A few more days till we totter on the road,
Then my old Kentucky Home, good night!



Emily you are my grandma, 
you are my grandaunt, 
and I love you even if I cannot understand you. 

But I think I do. 
Or at least I think I will. 

When I look back on my mistakes, on the life I've lead, perhaps I shall. 

Is it too simple to say that you are a woman who simply tried her best. I fear it cheapens your story. 
Who are you but a work of fiction? 
Who am I but a face in a long line of readers? 

Emily, you are so far from me. 
I know nothing about the things you are so sure of. 
I know nothing of Peranakan recipes, Malay words, and housekeeping.
I know nothing of what it is to be a woman in 50/60/70/80s Singapore,
a linguistic master, a polyglot of Singaporean renown. 

You are the jewel of Singapore, 
a light on the hill. 

You are so far from me,
but you illuminate nonetheless. 

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