AT THE height of the AWARE furore, my mother asked whether she had disgraced me by her infamy.

I hugged her and said I was proud of her courage in standing up for her principles and grace in facing uncouth opposition.

I expect nothing less from her. She is a woman of integrity who taught me to always champion what is right, good and just, even if this attracts flak.

My mother gave her children the space to be individuals and to follow their own paths.

She did have a mean streak and petrified me as a child by singing the songs of Cruella de Ville.

She worried for me when I burnt midnight oil studying. The day before my PSLE, she asked me to play squash with her!

I used to come home from primary school crying because of the cruel remarks by my mathematics teachers. My mother wanted to confront them, but I begged her to desist. I think she regrets this as I became quite withdrawn because of my academic failings.

We are quite different, my mother and I. She is outgoing, practical and sociable. I am more introspective, melancholic.

However, perhaps I ended up a constitutional law professor due to osmosis, as she was pregnant with me when she lectured public law.

My father excelled at creative storytelling, but my mother held me rapt with her childhood tales of the Japanese occupation in Malaya and how a British soldier gifted her with her first taste of chocolate.

She told me stories about Robin Hood, King Arthur, which fed my love for English literature.
I used to sneak off with her dog-eared copy of the Oxford Treasury of English Verse and imbibe the poetry.

As a busy lawyer, my mother was often pressed for time. Still, she noticed details and was mesmerised by how BJ, my puppy, would stare at butterflies for hours. We were mutually intoxicated by the BBC production of Pride and Prejudice. I made my mother laugh uproariously with my renditions of Mr Collin’s vanity and Catherine de Burgh’s pomposity, complete with angmoh accent.

My mother took me along during her many overseas business trips. When I was 10, she brought me to Denmark’s Elsinore Castle and told me about Hamlet and King Claudius’ ghost. I suspect my subsequent love for Shakespearecan be traced to this.

She regaled me with the criminal trials of David Marshall and introduced me to the leonine man himself in Paris when I was 13.

As adults, my mother and I have become close friends. Our common interest in history, theology and archaeology has inspired recent travels to Jerusalem, Patmos and Istanbul.

My mother tolerated my rebellious adolescence when I would lock myself in my room and practise my electric guitar riffs – loudly.

She rejoiced when I obtained a place at Oxford University.

She entered heated debates with me when I disavowed atheism and became a Christian as a law undergraduate. I think she may have regretted teaching me to think independently! Today, she has a deep faith and lives it.

My mother has a tender heart and I have seen her sacrifice hours counselling many hurting people.

From her, I have learnt and received the joy of unconditional love.

Happy Mother’s Day,Mum.I love you and am awfully proud to be your daughter.

This article was first published in The New Paper