DEAR Mum,

You’re the strongest person I know.

Everyone knows you as the first woman who became director of the National Library, but I just know you as Mum.

As a child, I remember how you made a name for yourself doing what you loved – being around books.

You spoke up for your staff, and always believed in equality between the genders.

And yet, you still managed to come home every night for dinner. I don’t know how you did it.

You were both career-minded and family- focused. I remember going to the ballet at the National Theatre and the SSO at the Victoria Theatre and the small drama centre at Fort Canning. Going to the park and beach were also such special times.

After your divorce in the 1960s, you raised me single-handedly, which must have been quite a challenge, but I never saw you stressed out.

Even when I was a rebellious teen, you never hit me, shouted or even raised your voice. You always reasoned with me, and were just so easy-going, so calm and even-tempered.

You didn’t have to fight to be a feminist. You earned the title just by being yourself.

You had a soft side too. Each time you travelled overseas, you would bring back a national doll for me. I was a girly girl and you didn’t mind.

You also brought home piles of library books for me to read to broaden my world. It didn’t matter that I was a girl. You always told me I could do anything I wanted, even becoming a pilot or an astronaut. You instilled a belief in me that anything was possible if I believed in myself.

But unlike many Singaporeans, you didn’t really pressure me academically. You gave me space to grow on my own, and I love you for it. I thought you were the most intelligent woman I knew.

And when I was 17 and wanted to study in the US, you were so open-minded to support me in my pursuit of happiness.

Although our family was concerned about me living overseas when I was so young, you let me go because you knew that was what I wanted. As a mother now myself, I can understand what a difficult decision that was to make on your own.

Even when money was tight, you continued to support my overseas education. You didn’t think much about yourself.

And over the 20 years that I was studying and working overseas, you never pressured me to come back. You said I had my own life to live, and you always told me to do what
made me happy.

I never realised how amazing you were until I was in my30s. Even my friends told me that it was very cool of you to give me all the support that you did.

You weren’t just my mother, you were also my friend.

The flowers and cards I normally send you each Mother’s Day cannot compare to the love you showered me.

And even though you’re turning 81 this year, you’re still as independent as ever. I offered to move in with you, but you said you prefer to live by yourself.

You told me not to call you everyday because you want your own privacy. I know you don’t like someone hovering over you and you want to solve your problems yourself.

But sometimes, it’s frustrating because I’m scared that you won’t call me even if you need help.

Yes, you’re so strong that you’re stubborn sometimes.

But that’s also what I love about you, Mum.

This article was first published in The New Paper