FOR those who have lost loved ones, Christmas is when the memories come flooding back, tinting the joy of the Yuletide season with a bitter sweet refrain.
CLOSE-KNIT: Teresa (seated in front) with her father Benjamin and mother Roslyn, sister Jennifer, and brother Jeffery.
It is the time of the year when sentimentality and nostalgia set in and the feelings of loneliness and pinning are amplified.
Sheela Kym Letchumanan lost her grandfather when she was only eight and her grandmother at 11. Ever since, her Christmases have been filled with joyous anticipation inter-laced with nostalgia.
“When I was a child, I spent most of my waking hours in my grandparents’ house as my mother was working. Only after dinner would mum and I return home,” she recalled.
There was a strong bond between granddaughter and grandparents, so when the elders passed on, it was only natural that the little girl felt a great loss.
Sheela’s fondest memory of her grandfather was walking with him to and from church, a stone’s throw from their home.
“I would be dressed in a frilly baby doll dress complete with bows in my hair and socks trimmed with lace. My mum made it a point to dress me appropriately for church,” she said.
On the way, Sheela would skip and hop with her grandfather keeping pace not far behind with her mother. Her best time was after church service when granddad would insist on having breakfast at a nearby coffeeshop.
“He always ordered roti kawin and a cup of Milo while I would gobble up my bowl of kolo mee as fast as I could.”
Three years after her grandfather’s death, her grandmother passed on. Sheela was old enough then to know the meaning of death. And granny’s passing hit her hard too.
“When your were young, you tended to think life was infinite, especially when it came to family.”
Caring granny
She remembers vividly how her grandmother saw her to school everyday when her mum went for two weeks training in Kuala Lumpur.
“She walked with me to the bus stop and got me safely across the road leading to my school. After school, she would be at the bus stop waiting for me.”
Sheela also remembers lunch and tea time at her grandparents’ house.
“We (she and her cousin) had either kolo mee or cha kuey tiaw for lunch and for tea, grandma would summon both of us to the kitchen table where two cups of Milo and a piece of cake each awaited us.”
Her grandmother was a strong-willed woman who believed in instilling discipline and good manners. Sheela confessed she feared grandma more than granddad.
“He was a quiet gentle soul with an incredible sense of humour. He always made me laugh,” she said.
She had many memories of her grandparents but one in particular stood out. Her grandfather was sick at that time — it was Christmas Eve. The sitting room was illuminated by the glow of the fairy lights on the Christmas tree. Beautifully wrapped presents were placed under it.
“I remember seeing my grandfather in his jimmies, sitting on the sofa. He looked so lonely in the midst of the festive gaiety — he had that faraway look.”
Even at her young age, Sheela felt a surge of emotions when she saw the lonely figure of her grandfather. She went over to hug and reassure him. He returned the hug and was bought back from his reverie — momentarily.
He died on August 1 the following year. It was unexpected — there were no signs and the family was shaken.
“Even now each time I set up a tree, I always think of that fleeting moment on Christmas Eve. And everytime I hear Pat Boone’s White Christmas, I shed a tear. It was his favourite.
“My grandfather was a gentle person with subtle strength. When times were down, he was our Gibraltar. He was never the kind to crave attention — always in the background but his presence gave us assurance and comfort. That is how I remember him,” Sheela said.
Same feeling
Teresa Elizabeth Crocker feels the same way about her dad, James Benjamin, who passed on when she was 23.
“My father was never one to dominate the family. He was more ‘the-stay-at-home’ dad — always there to provide solace and comfort.
“I wasn’t the apple of his eye — my sister was — but I never felt deprived of his love. One thing about my dad was that he made everyone of us feel loved and wanted,” she said.
Teresa could never get angry with her dad for long, saying forgiving him was easy because he was gentle and unassuming.
“He loved us to bits,” she said, recalling the time she came back from school, feeling hungry, but dad already had her favourite dish laid out.
“His only crime was giving in to our whims and fancies. He tried his best to give us everything and looking back, we were a bunch of naughty kids with big demands,” she quipped.
Come Christmas, dad was the one who took out the decorations and the tree. Teresa said her father loved the song — I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus — and he used to tease her mum with the lyrics.
“My dad was a very loving person. We were indeed lucky to have a father with such a caring nature.”
But it’s the Christmas dinner routine that still tugs at her heartstrings.
“My dad always led us in prayer, and for this reason, we always looked towards him before bowing our heads in prayer.”
Teresa still sheds a tear whenever that Christmas prayer is said.
“It reminds me so much of him. I believe I see his loving side in me. I love my daughter to bits too.”
Teresa is blessed with a lovely daughter named Alicia Esther.
For both she and Sheela, this Christmas and all the Christmases to come will always be special —even long after the inscriptions on the tombstones of their beloved departed parent (for Teresa) and grandparents (for Sheela) have been lost to the elements.
Their memories of the ‘pillars’ in their lives will live on forever.