Garfieldhug's Blog

This & That Including What Ails


It is hard to walk away from family. 

No religion teaches this nor any well meaning person does this!

But if I don’t, my sanity may go and or I will suffer major illnesses.

I suffer from an autoimmune disorder, amongst other ailments.

My rheumatologist and immunologist has often asked me years ago if I am under extreme stress. Stress sparks my disorder.

I lied. 

But deep in the depths of my heart or stomach as Asians would say, I knew that what my siblings and own father did to me, left me dumbfounded.

I asked self if I was indeed their blood child. Regrettably I was. That was not an excuse I could use to explain their behaviour towards me.

Jealously? Probably as they expected me to be down and out on the streets when they chased me out of a home. I was like dust which refused to go away.

Like a pariah, I walked out with a suitcase of the clothes I had. 

All my other things were left behind and I knew sis scavanged and took what was left. Earthly things did not bother me as I can always buy once am back on my feet.

Within a year of leaving the home, I worked furiously to amass wealth. Survival instincts kicked in and if survivor series was available back then, I would do well to forage for food 

The pressures of life caught up with me and I landed up in hospital.

As the doctors unravelled my illness, I was left like a guinea pig to be given biopsies etc.

When the diagnosis finally concluded, they pronounced my death sentence. As usual, nothing can be done. 

Years have past. I continue my physical fight. I beat the odds to live. But my mental fight is waning.

I need both mental and physical health to tackle life.

I gave up on religion and I have cursed God for whatever HE has given me. I have been pious. I tried to be a God fearing person.

But I no longer fear God as God to me, is a creation of man to seek comfort and solace. I still seek a plausible reason for life’s lemons.

I am beyond that.

The trials I have undergone have not given me meaning and sense. The only lesson I learnt is that blood does not make a family.

What makes a family is empathy, compassion, being there for one another when needed. Friendship and love. These were non existent.

Instead I faced verbal abuse, threats of physical violence from both my bro and father. They wanted me out of the house 

I have kept my promise throughout, regardless of how difficult family made it for me.

I did not fail as they expected. A large part of them felt I should die. This way, I am a nuisance out of their way.

It will be a hard journey ahead as I walk away with my back facing them. In my parents’ declining years to lose my support is sad to me.

I know bro will never return to lil red dot to care for them permanently and neither will he spare change to provide for them. 

His Lizard would never approve as he is beholden to her and her family in HK being their money bags.

As for sis, she is too engrossed in life in NZ and always putting her son first to care about her parents. She has often told me to dump them in an old folks home. That is her duty as a child practising filial piety. 

She did not attend her mum in law’s funeral as she saw no need to do so as her son is pivotal.

I doubt she will offer to pay the hefty fees for our parents’ old folks home stay. 

Plus the conditions in our old folks home is not the standard of NZ or developed countries. 

We lag behind in this and that is why I furiously volunteer to help seniors to get policy makers to improve. We are getting there, but not quite just yet.

Too many lemons really….


Harmony Is A Word I Cannot Fathom

I go through much of life without much harmony. 

Ironic right? 

I laugh because it is better than crying.

I laugh to forget the things in life I go through.

I laugh to remind self that it is okay for my brother to shout and say I am the curse of the family.

Ok…I know that my siblings and I are not hunky dory. We have family politics.

Dad dotes on elder sis and youngest bro. I felt it and whatever I was deprived of, was made up by mum to me. Of course bro and sis despised my mum for caring about me.

Of course this angered bro, sis and dad. So, believe it or not, I was ousted from family home after college. 

Life goes on. I have a family name but I kid you not, I have no family.

Now that bro lives in HK with his partner I fondly call Lizard and sis moved to NZ, dad has no one to rely on but yours truly.

Still, I am as bro shouted at me today “a curse” when he showed up at their home when I visited.

Bro does not appreciate all the sacrifices I made in life and I personally blame this on dad for fuelling the politics.

Despite being thrown out of the family home at a young age, my dad did not bother if I had food or money to survive on. Neither did my siblings. I was blessed for 2 church friends who provided me with food.

Those were my hardest years as I worked many jobs to earn enough to put downpayment on a smallish unit and not worry about where I live.

I forgave them for what they did to me and stood in to tend to dad if he fell ill as neither of his 2 preferred children bothered.

Lo and behold when I popped in to see mum and dad, bro showed up from HK to pick a fight. I had demanded an apology from him for all his deeds and he refused. 

To him, I was a curse to the family and that all the suffering I went through was made up and existed only in my mind.

A shouting match ensued and I relived the ugly politics as dad as usual took his preferred child’s side.

Labor Day and I made a decision. Enough is enough. Since bro wanted me classified as mental and evil, so be it.

Family may be classified as blood related but certainly all my life, my bro nor sis has treated me as family.

I am family only when there to pay for things.

I am family only when things happen and no one knows how to resolve.

I am family only when needed.

So…there you have it folks. The reason why I laugh.

Life has given me lemons. Huge painful lemons but each lemony item, I mask with laughter.

Only those closest can hurt me and the emotional scars left by my dad, bro and sis are deepest and ugliest.

Harmony…..I come from the same tree as my siblings yet why am I treated like a plague my entire life?

So much for a loving family as I assure you I have none.

Maybe I am mental.

Maybe I am a curse.

Maybe I should not continue to be a part of a family that does not want me?

I do not regret walking out of this family. 

As I told mum and dad, I have no family and walked out.

I wished them well and sincerely hope that dad’s 2 preferred children will tend to them when in need.




Mr Part Time Help age 33 years old hails from Bangladesh.

He has been helping me out with chores for the last few years such as cleaning my pigeon hole and washing my car.

Living in the rural, he makes up a headcount of those who are poor and decided to leave his home in Bangladesh in search of bigger dollars to remit home and support his mother, new wife and siblings.

As the sole breadwinner, he lost his father when he was 3 years old and he never the opportunity to attend school as his mum had to fend for survival to take care of his brothers and sisters.

Finally with the family living in a zinc roofed hut, he recently took a match made bride aged 18 years 2 years ago. Throughout the 2 years he only saw his wife less than 3 months in total.

Mr Part Time has lived and worked in lil red dot for 6 years now and he is trying to start a family.

I could see the twinkle in his eye as he happily told me that his wife was visiting him in lil red dot today and that her flight would touch down in lil red dot at 1pm. He shared that he bought new clothes to change into and greet her at the airport.

I was happy to get up at 7am this morning to wait for his part time help. I knew he would be in a rush and immediately last evening rolled up sleeves to wash my own car to help him. This way, I shortened his required hours to work at my place.

Big mistake though as today, my spine is screaming “murder of the spine” as I hurt.

I am a serious car washer LOL! I literally use a toothbrush to get into the crevices of the steel sports rim ha ha! To me it is therapeutic but it is tough on the spine.

Like him, I have lived abroad too and knew the feeling of what it was like to anticipate the arrival of a loved one.

He was cheerful and told me that his wife could only bring some shallots or small onions and garlic bulbs as gifts for me as she is not strong and cannot carry too many things. He often shared with me that the grade and quality of small onions and garlic I bought from supermarkets were of “inferior” quality than those of Bangladesh as it is grown there.

The ones I buy from the supermarket are imported from China.

His love for his match made bride is touching. He gave her respect and love – this is pivotal and though he is uneducated, he knows the basic principle of love.

In listening in on EL’s sermons or berations at work that last more than 6 hours, he would boast to us of how his wife “served” him. The image he shared of his wife is one like a subservient maid.

He bragged of how children of his are protected and not necessary to protect his wife because if his wife died, he can find another – but not children as they have his DNA.

I was appalled with his description of “love” for his wife. How she has to place his wallet, car keys and things he would need for going out. I once remembered how EL scolded me for not “behaving” like his wife – he thought I was like his maid

On Friday evening he shared in his sermons of how “stupid and idiotic” his Filipina maid was. Simply put, his children were not served cut fruits and his fruits all rotted in the fridge!

To me, this showed how spoilt and pampered the entire family was, children included – suddenly everyone in the household lost their limbs such that they cannot walk to the fridge and wash, cut their own fruits for self consumption?

If one wants to eat fruits, just go help selves isn’t it? Why blame the maid for not anticipating when one would like to have fruits?!

EL is uneducated too but slightly more educated than Mr Part Time Help as EL studied 9  years of formal school but only paid attention from Primary 5 onwards and could only recite the alphabets at age 11.

Comparatively speaking, EL pales beyond comparison to uneducated Mr Part Time Help as the latter has empathy, love and respect for others.

EL is selfish, evil and does things that only benefit himself and not others. His lavish donations are often related to us in his sermons and how he uses donations to “buy respect and stature”

I learnt an invaluable lesson from Mr Part Time Help – responsibility, love, respect for people. It does not take education to teach us but the innate kindness or respect from within.

I wish both Mr & Mrs Part Time Help an enjoyable reunion in lil red dot and may they conceive the child they do desperately want as a member of their family.

As for EL, my deepest condolences and sympathies to his wife as she is nothing more than the incubator of the fruits of his loins, his caregiver, chauffeur, laundry lady and household manager. I hope she is happy.


Life’s Vissicitudes #2


These are seriously painful words in lessons I have learnt in life thus far.

I openly admit experiencing each of the described sentences.

Am I smarter? I hope so..

Is it less painful? Never….

Are my losses big? Horrendously yes! Buckets of tears, sweat and cussings!!😂

Loved? Yup…a moron and I fell in love but I think we both ended up as morons! As morons go…we both lost!😈

Trouble is, these days, the new economy is setting in.

People are nonchalant and push responsibilities.

Where they can assign blame, they can and will do. So long as shit happens…they will stare at you and give you glassy eyed stares.

Yup! I am describing my work scene. But isn’t this true?😨

These days, it is who that can best push the blame to….survives.

The 5 letter word “sorry” does not exist in these hideous people’s vocabulary!

Hideous?! I am not describing witches or wizards with crooked noses but ugly ugly souls!!

Today 2 of my minions broke policy and approved expenses on their own.

Miss No Manners who finds it an aberration of words to say “sorry” (*literally to the tune of Sorry seems to be hardest word!!) would often give me that glass eyed look as if I am speaking in tongues to her.

I hate this!

I truly dislike people who make mistakes but tend not to open up and admit mistakes made so that we can fix it and move on!

All the covert activities she tries to do is, obvious paper wrapping fire!

In the end, the truth prevails as my paw print must appear before any funds can be paid.

I know she is dishonest but I want her to learn….she is no spring chicken and a mother of 2…the leastI can do is inculcate good habits in her and for her to teach or show by example to her children.

Shit happens….so for me…”clean up on aisle 3″…..darn…where is my mop and pail😉

Venting over….thank you for your tolerance😊


Community Programs

I have a soft spot for seniors as I have seen too many of them destitute or without support from children.

So, to put my words to efforts, I took on a voluntary role to support seniors and create programs with North East Community Development Council.

Mr Hello Hello motivated me to do things in an organised manner as I was doing social community work singularly and on my own accord.

5 years on, I am not disappointed as I see the fruits of labor.

Happy seniors, properly engaged and with proper activities.





Sharing some our programs for Seniors as well as Children’s School Money Pocket Fund with you.

If you are a Singaporean reading this and want to join in, feel free to do so.

Qualifications are:
Kind and giving heart
Ability to communicate with seniors – this comes naturally!

Serving our seniors….as one day, I too will become old 😉


Today Is 15th Of Mid Autumn Festival


Happy mid autumn festival all and may peace, love and blessings abound in your home. 🙂

My neighbor who lives a floor below me text me yesterday with her good wishes for this occasion and sent across the picture I posted.

She gave me a box of single egg yolk moon cake in liang rong from the prestigious Shangri La. She is sweet and I appreciate her kindness:)

I loved the box though.

It was an ornate red cloth fabric with bamboo and white floral print amidst pseudo leather casing with 4 tiny drawers made from cardboard and each drawer housed a moon cake wrapped in plastic.

As if the mystique a d aura of what in door numbers 1 to 4 has in store!

Half the fun (for me, it is the box that I like) is the decorative boxes that hold the moon cakes.

Deviating from the old fashioned square boxes, some shops retail these moon cakes in canisters (I use them to hold tea bags after, great recycling efforts on my part), boxes made to be carried like handbags or red acrylic boxes with an emblem of pseudo jade to give it a regal quality.

My friend from Hong Kong…H (H used to work with me in a company located  near the ferry point to Jumbo Floating Restaurant) sent me a more kiddy greeting.


Just like H – he is like me…a child inside. H married an ogre and he quit from the marriage and is now happily single and running his own business.

As I reminisced over my days working and living in Hong Kong (HK), I remember this is the time of waxed ducks, waxed sausages and claypot rice. Yummy as the chilly nights of HK begin

I used to trot to ‘Tong Lor Wan’ for “Aunty’s Soups” translated from Cantonese “Ah Yee Leng Tong” – dinner would be a bowl of piping soup literally!

I met 2 boyfriends there. I could not fall in love with one called M and instead fell in love with a Singaporean commuter called P.

P fell out – I was not rich enough then, strugglinh graduate on first job. P was a head honcho with a financial company.

Just as well or else I would have married an ogre too LOL!

P hangs around just as M does but we are still friends.

M is still single as he is an entrepreneur and figures if he cannot find the right woman, he better stay single or fight alimonies.

M moved to Shanghai and lives in a mansion as he always dreamed of 4 poster beds with sprawling mansion.

In land scarce Singapore or HK…quite hard really!

As for P, he is much like the Cockerel shown after marriage.

Shredded, feathered and tarred with little voice in marriage.

His conscientious choice to pick $ over true love….his own doing and no amount of whining would appease his heart I guess.

All I can do is listen and pat his shoulder with sarcastic reminders…your choice remember….$!

P says till to date, I am his “soul mate” of which I smile with sarcasm…”ya right…maybe because of my current stature, mingling with Dukes and Duchesses of Yore that makes me validated as a “soul mate”

If I was the same non descript human…hmm…I would be plankton


The Man Who Made Me Love Garfield

I had a good relationship with the man who influenced me heavily on Garfield, my inanimate furball.



We both fell in love.

He claimed soul mate status. He did the most amazing outlandish things.

He could Wow!!

I claimed unsure status.

Garfield became our “love child” and I started getting Garfields.

When I am happy, there is a Garfield.

When I am sad, there is a Garfield.

On an anniversary, there is a Garfield.

On an occasion, there is a Garfield.

In sickness and in health, there is a Garfield.

Garfields galore and like Pavlov’s dogs, I was attached to Garfield.

Garfield = Man!!

I mused to self and told this man that the oldest Garfield and my favourite is now 22 years old.

The man replied me, ” 22 years is a lot in cat years. Garfield must be worn, tattered and old”

Man is not incorrect. I can see the worn out Garfield paws from too much squooshing.

Cataracts in the eyes as the black paintwork on irises are erased as Garfield is hugged face down nightly and clung on tightly as if the child in me is afraid Garfield would slide off and fall to the floor.

475 Garfields….Man has a made a point in my life.

Man must have loved and cared about me.

What Man did not know was that he never gave me security.

Here today, gone tomorrow was his modus operandi.

If he appears, he appears like Houdini.

When he disappears, poof he vanishes!

I could love him for dollars or Garfields but I am made of integrity.

I could not sell my soul, my heart nor my brain to such a Man.

Plus Man asks if he could sell my organs!! He is odd!!

Technically, this is Garfield’s pops!

Gawd, for my inanimate furball to have such a father figure, I think my poor furball is in need of counselling.

Meanwhile Man wears spectacle frames without lenses – Ion Spectacles…sheesh….easy to con Man!

Ion spectacles is as good as pet rocks picked from rock pile and sold at a premium.

Life of an avant garde…such is Man and never the twain shall we meet 😀


My Stash

Sister flew in from Auckland this evening.

She is to stay a night at our parents’ home before having her son fly in tomorrow and leave for Bali for her own family’s vacation.

This is her hub point to go to Bali for sun, sand and sea.

Flying all the way out from New Zealand only to spend less than 24 hours with her parents is a sad experience for our parents.

She returns once a year and can only afford less than a day in a year!


Grandson will not even get to see his omar (grandma) and gong gong (grandpa). He is flying straight from Auckland to Changi Airport and meet his mum in transit to hop onto a plane for Bali.

I disagree on my sister’s treatment of her parents.

My parents are the least calculating and most generous in giving us things, including and not limited to just monies.

Yet, I cannot fathom why she can turn away and not spare a couple of days in a year for them out of her vacation. Even when my mum was hospitalised earlier this year, she denied responsibility and told me not to disturb her unless it was end times! ;-(

I feel for my parents.

I am not a parent and never will be, as I dislike kids. Why? They remind me of my selfish siblings.

I was once taught that it was my siblings’ choice.

Their choice to treat my parents as they choose.

I do not understand nor do I see their way of think thoughts.

I was told not to impose my will to them to see things my way! But seriously..  hmm what way is there to see things?

Western teaching allows a child to ignore their parents as they move on in their lives.

Confucian teaching in my culture teaches fiial piety. My parents are my care as they brought me up.

It is said in our culture if you have a daughter, you lose her once she marries to the tiger mom in laws.

If you have a son, you also lose him as his tiger wife will disallow him from going home to his maternal family.

Both rang true for my folks.

I am smarter….not to marry or actually the truth is no man wanted me LOL!

Maybe I am a hideous ogress?

Toothless with a hunch back?

Or a nicer way of putting it is, my knight in shining armour did not sign up for a wifi plan and his blue tooth pairing failed to connect to me 😉

Neither do I want to be a daughter in law nor a wife to a mummy’s boy who is hen pecked by big momma!

But not all is true as some children really dote on their parents; single or married.

I guess it the luck of the draw.

Or I call it karma. Maybe past life my sister was ill treated by her current mum and dad. This life she ill treats them back.

Evil thing this karma is…..

As for my brother, he is hen pecked by Lizard.

If Lizard does not endorse his exit permit or “home affairs visa”, he cannot see his mum or dad.

Such is parenthood. Whoever said parenthood is 100% joy, I’d say think again. Children are forever children in the eyes of parents, regardless of age.

But children never see selves as children and today’s strawberry generation sees a selfish strain of future adults that puts self before others.

I wonder what my little red dot will be like 50 years from now with this type of adults who grew up on social media? Selfish, self centred or?

I will not know as I will be probably be very dead by then! Dead as a door nail 😀

For mothers with children…don’t have expectations. It is saddest waiting for kids to return and they don’t.

Live, breed, let go…..

If they return, they return.

If they don’t, so be it.

Others will love you…be it a stranger, a neighbor or a cat or dog or inanimate furball like my Garfield who let you hug it to bits!

Garfield hugs to all 🙂



Home is where the heart is.

Home is where my mum and dad are.

Home is my little red dot, Singapore.

My mum’s recent hospitalisation reminds me of the frailities of life and ageism.

Her recent hospitalisation show me how much she has aged.

I remember her younger days, driving us to school in the wee hours of the morning and returning to fetch us home.

Sorching or searing sun; rain, thunderstorm or blinding rain, my mum waited for us. My personal “chauffeur”!

She did housekeeping, ironing, cleaning, changing bed linens and all cooking of meals. My personal “maid”

When I am ill she takes care of me, seeing me through all my hospitalisations, marathon surgeries, fiercely protective of me.

When mum fell in, it was my turn to take care of her. But I paled beyond comparison 😥

But I am ashamed as I cannot do more or even match what she has done for me 😣

I could only ensure that I find the right doctors to take care of her and remind her to take her medications and rest. I could only worry 😰

So when the doctor rang me at 6pm last evening to say mum was well enough to go home, I was so happy.

I sought doctor’s help to allow my mum for a late discharge so that I can be her chauffeur!

I am ever so grateful to Chicken who came after her work to help me wheelchair my mum to the lobby so that I can drive over to pick them.

I could not even offer Chicken a lift home as I have poor road sense and sleeping less than a couple of hours a night made it worst. Chicken understood and shooed me home.

Chicken bought mum her favorite cherries.

M had also offered to help me. Poor M has the flu too and I felt it was best she rested.

I have these two great friends…gems :mrgreen:

Yes, home….it is good to be home…and mum is happy to be home though she is chesty and frail.

I love my parents and like every son and daughter…we all love our parents 💕💕💕

Peace, love and good health to all your parents and loved ones 💛💜💚💗


Love – 爱


没有爱, 我们没有今天。


除了爱父母 – 我认为是最伟大的爱, 我也好爱读书和我哪个加啡猫哈哈! 不是真正的猫,是抱着的玩具!


如果我爱上个不好的男人, 我肯定是完蛋!

我觉得那首歌”爱上一个不回家的男人” 好悲哀。

在唱k的时候听到这首歌我会想到我那个瓜! 😦


Love gives us a good feeling most times and we must be able to love ourselves inorder to love others.

Apart from parental love, which is the highest order of love to me, I love studying and of course my Garfield, the inanimate fur ball. Ha ha! These are examples of love in simplest forms.

Love can also hurt us.

If one falls in love with a wrong man, we are finished! *in my books 😉

There is a song that I often hear in Karaoke lounges titled, “loving a man who never goes home” – it is a sad song and whenever someone sings it, I feel the pain of the singer.

It also invokes the unpleasant encounters of love that I have been through.

(**my first attempt at a bilingual post to see if I returned my Chinese to my teacher ha ha! )

My apologies to my Chinese readers if this is poorly written 🙂

Love is an illusion….a feel good moment that does not last really….cynical me of course….ha ha