Madam Tan Bee Wah is constantly on the move, dividing her time between her four children.

"I will spend three to four days at my son's house, then go on to my daughter's house. It's like a tour. I spend two nights at one place and can complete the circuit in a week," says the 64-year-old.

As all her children have maids, she does not need to do much.

She just dishes up the meals, or minds her grandchildren if their parents have to travel for work.

"I decide where I want to go. Sometimes they will call and ask when is their turn. I am constantly busy but I think they want me only because I can cook," she jokes.

When she is not busy cooking up a storm, she volunteers as a hairdresser at a home for the elderly, or helps out at a temple. She also plays mahjong with her friends, and sometimes visits her father and siblings.

Life, she says, is good and she is contented.

But it was not always this way.

Just six years ago, she was sickly and reclusive, battling a debilitating bout of depression.

Her woes began in 2004 when her husband - a businessman - was diagnosed with liver cancer.

They soon faced financial problems because of his medical bills. Her children had bought an insurance policy for her but not for their father, thinking he already had a policy.

"My husband did not have insurance. He bought insurance when he was running his own business, but none of the children knew he had stopped paying the premiums," says Madam Tan in Mandarin.

At the height of his illness, they paid more than $10,000 for each chemotherapy session, which included a three-day hospital stay, at a private hospital.

The children chipped in to help but things got so dire that Madam Tan had to sell their home, a maisonette, at a loss of more than $30,000 in 2005. The couple - and their youngest daughter - downgraded to a three-room flat in Tampines.

"When we really couldn't afford the payment, we went to the Singapore Cancer Centre at Singapore General Hospital, and I applied for subsidies to get an 85 per cent reduction in payment," says Madam Tan, who was her husband's caregiver.

She also started taking on part-time jobs at places near her home to make ends meet.

In the mornings, she prepared meals at a childcare centre; in the afternoons or evenings, she worked at a drinks stall in Changi Airport.

Her boss at the drinks stall was understanding and allowed her to change her shifts whenever she needed to take her husband to the hospital.

Madam Tan also tried selling chicken rice near her home. She started the stall to have more time with her husband, but eventually gave up because the job was too tough and business was slow.

After three agonising years, her husband died in 2007, aged 62.

Losing her partner of more than 40 years affected her badly.

"I missed him very much after he died. When I met setbacks in life, or when my children ran into problems and there wasn't anyone for me to speak to, I would miss him even more," she says.

She fell into a deep funk.

She quit her job as a singing teacher at a community centre where she had taught for 10 years with her husband.

She sold off her karaoke set and her collection of more than 1,000 karaoke laser discs.

"I stopped learning new songs. In fact, I couldn't sing for nearly two years after my husband died. I don't know why."

Despite her children's encouragement, she stopped visiting old friends or making new ones.

She stayed at home, visiting only her sister and her father. Occasionally, she would visit her eldest son and his family in Chongqing, China.

Her husband's death also affected her health. Over the next two years, she was hospitalised several times for heart problems.

"A close friend told me it was frightening how I was so different from what I used to be. I used to be lively."

It took nearly five years before she got over her grief.

"I looked into the mirror and saw how sad I looked. After my health scares, I also decided I should be stronger," she says.

Her love for her children helped too, as she did not want them to feel sad because of her emotional state.

When her youngest daughter got married in 2012, she decided to sell her flat as she did not want to live alone. She used part of the proceeds to help her daughter get a new home. Since then, she has been living with one or another of her children.

They have been a great comfort to her, she says.

"I am blessed to have such understanding children... I have worked hard all my life to bring them up and I am relieved that they are good kids.

"I don't have any savings now, and I don't have any CPF as I was a housewife most of my life. My children give me enough allowances for meals and clothes. It is enough. I am satisfied with what I have. Life is leisurely and I don't have to wake up the next day worrying about debts or bills I have to pay."

Madam Tan - who has five grandchildren aged between five and 23 - hopes not to end up in an old folks' home.

But she says she will take it in her stride if the day comes and her children decide to send her to one.

Her eldest son, Mr Edmund Siau, who is self-employed, says there is little chance of that happening.

"My mother went through a lot of hardships to bring us up. It's our turn to shower her with all our love and care, to let her live as well as possible now," says the 46-year-old.

This article was first published on June 1, 2014.
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