Dolly's Sharing

My maternal grandmother was a woman of poise – calm, dignified and beautiful, a remarkable woman whom I affectionately called “Nenek,” the Malay word for grandmother. Beyond her physical beauty, she was intelligent and business-minded – a creative entrepreneur with exceptional culinary and knitting skills. Selfless and loving, she devoted her entire life to caring and providing for her loved ones. She was, in every sense, an angel among us.

Although born into privilege as the only child of a wealthy Peranakan (Straits-born Chinese) family, my grandmother weathered many storms in her later years. She was once fondly known as “Nyonya Berlian” (Diamond Lady) for adorning her “Nyonya kebaya” (a traditional and iconic outfit worn by Peranakan women) with diamond “kerongsang” (brooches) – a perfect match for the elegance and grace she embodied. In her leisure, she found joy in “Dondang Sayang,” a traditional Malay art form where performers exchange spontaneous “pantun” (poetry), and also enjoyed films by the legendary P. Ramlee, as well as the American variety show Donny & Marie – simple pleasures that brought lightness into her otherwise heavy life.

Nenek was a single mother of four daughters and a son. After a devastating betrayal involving the loss of her eldest daughter, she left her husband to protect the safety of her remaining children. War and illness carved a path of sorrow through her life – she lost her son to whooping cough when he was just a toddler, and another daughter vanished during the Japanese invasion of Malaya in World War II. Only two daughters remained – living echoes of all she had loved and lost. Who could truly grasp the pain she carried… the silent anguish she endured or the sorrow she bore? Yet, shaped by grief and defined by strength, Nenek pressed on with quiet resilience and steadfast love.

She worked tirelessly in her small business well into old age – never thinking of herself first, never once complaining. Despite her busyness, she still found time to cook our favourite food, always had a supply of syrup and rabbit-shaped jelly – a simple gesture that spoke volumes of her love. Over the years, she became a pillar not only to her children, but also to her grandchildren. I hold deep gratitude for her support through college, given without expectation of anything in return. Every memory of her is etched in my heart. Each time I saw her approaching in a trishaw, I would eagerly run to greet her and join her for the ride home. She never came empty-handed, always with a gift or a treat that made every visit a moment to look forward to. When I missed her arrival, I would hear her voice at the gate – sometimes calling my mother’s name, sometimes mine – a sound forever imprinted in my memory.

There were so many other cherished memories with her – far too many to pen down. During the times when my mother enforced hunger as a punishment, she would discreetly slip me food, keeping a watchful eye while I quickly gobbled it up. And each time when she lay down to rest, I would massage and scratch her back – those quiet evenings became tender moments I treasured. She loved me unconditionally, so much so that she often spoiled me. Whenever I felt sad, she would go to great lengths to cheer me up. Her enduring love and kindness continue to light my way, even into adulthood.

Overall, Nenek enjoyed excellent health, but in her late 70s, she faced some challenges. It was during that difficult season she encountered Jesus, and after experiencing His grace and healing, she gave her life to Him. I’m so thankful to God for her salvation. Truly God is good for He gently took her home in her sleep at the age of 80. I vividly remember the day before she passed away: I visited her, not knowing it would be the last time seeing her, and invited her to join me for lunch. She declined and instead asked me to pack some stuffed bitter gourd for her. But when I went to get it, it was no longer available. And that very night, in the wee hours of the morning, she went home to the Lord. My heart broke as I couldn’t fulfil her final request, especially after all the love and sacrifices she had poured into my life.

Yet in a bittersweet way, she had a good departure. She dozed off while watching one of her favourite shows and never woke up – her hand resting gently on her forehead. It was a peaceful passing, yet I struggled to accept her absence. True to her nature, she left quietly, without causing anyone any inconvenience – selfless even in death. That night after the funeral, I dreamt of her – she was smiling and kissed me. After that, she would appear in my dreams from time to time. Each one fills me with joy, yet I always wake up with a deep longing in my heart. It’s been years now since I last dreamt of her. Nenek… I missed you then, and I miss you still.

Her life was a story of resilience, but her eternity is a testimony of God’s grace. I was so blessed to have this amazing woman as the anchor of strength and love in my life. Through her sacrifice and compassion, I caught a glimpse of God’s tangible love. Nenek left behind a legacy of faith and love – one that mirrors the virtues praised in Proverbs 31:10-31. Her love and quiet strength not only carried our family through difficult seasons, but also profoundly shaped my life. The way she lived, loved, and trusted God left an indelible imprint on my heart.

My beloved Nenek was and will always be precious to me. Till we meet again, my sweet Nenek… the love of my life… where I will hear your voice once more calling out for me at the pearly gates.

Proverbs 31:28 (ESV)
“Her children rise up and call her blessed…”