That was her name. An Auntie who serves kopi at the coffeeshop downstairs. My mum and popo go there for breakfast every opportunity we have as long as there is no school/work etc.

She looks to be about 60 years-old and is one of the most cheerful people i've come across. She never complains about her shitty job nor the way customers treat her when she forgets orders (she is old afterall).

Everyone who frequents the kopitiam calls her 'Ah Bu'. I have no idea how this name came about but it stuck. And so, I find it extremely ironic that someone called Ah Bu doesn't have any children. A recent conversation my popo had with her revealed that Ah Bu was not married and did not have any children. When asked if she felt lonely, Ah Bu, laughed it off, saying she had friends and the Singapore Pools to keep her company. And her colleagues at the kopitiam were her 'family'.

Her philosophy certainly works. Just look at the results. She is such a cheerful person. She also shows that the term 'family' can transcend blood ties and extend to your peers. She says she treats the vendors like her children at times. Certainly a strange relationship, but yet it yields results that some 'real' families can't provide. Joy.

I started examining my own relationship with my own 'Ah Bu'. A single-mother at 45 years-old with a 20 year-old son. My mum is one of the strongest people i have ever met. She taught me all the values i have now, good or bad. For better or worse, my character has been modeled after her and i am proud of it. We live alone together with my grandma and Uncle DJ next door. Thus we are a very tightly-knit unit.

The communication between us is very unlike the traditional mother/son talk. We can get along very well one moment and start yelling at each other the next. Such is the volatile nature of the relationship but we have learnt that some mutual compromise was needed between us. We have very strong differences in beliefs like politics but we also have very similar characteristics like tastes in movies and a sense of humor.

What someone might perceive as rude behavior when i talk to my mother is simple everyday communication. We have an unspoken understanding that in order to communicate fluidly some allowances had to be made.

This mutual respect has led to an extremely close and tight relationship. My mum and i have been through thick and thin together. The love i have for her is immeasurable and unconditional. And i know for a fact that she feels the same way.

Everyone has a different approach when communicating with loved ones. I guess i have an added advantage that my mum is relatively young and we can communicate better.

However, i hope anyone reading this can pause and take a moment to understand the sacrifices your mother and other loved ones have made for you. Always think about this before yelling at your next argument with them.

It was my Uncle J's wedding day.

25th of November 2010 to be exact.

The single biggest event in awhile to bring my entire family together.

We used to be the 'glue' of our family. My cousins and i grew up together. Our families used to gather almost on a weekly basis, whether it was for food, christmas or cycling.

Mel* and Bear* were my cousins, with Mel a year my senior and Bear being the same age as me. We were the closest growing up. Not a day went by that i wasn't on the phone talking nonsense with either of them and i often went for sleepovers at their houses. I naturally felt closer to Bear as he was also a guy and we shared the same interests. WWF, Tamiya cars and Pokemon! But Mel and i were very close too as her father (mum's bro) were on very good terms with my mum and we saw each other frequently.

Well as life would have it, such happiness doesn't last.

Shit happens.

We grew up.

And with that, the family saw no reason to come together so often anymore as the 'kids' had their own lives now. Looking back at it, perhaps it was the adults who had lost track of the family game. Either way, our family started to take itself apart.

Okay so enough with the reminiscing and let's get back on track.

Uncle J. His story is a remarkable feat of humanity but i don't wanna digress too much, so:

Hopeless teen-->Criminal-->Sitting in Changi-->Successful career-->Married

A true rags to riches story and i am truly proud of him.

It was his wedding day and we all got together. Asides from the mandatory reunion dinner every new year, i hardly got to see all my uncles and aunties sitting around the same table. Seeing them all together brought a smile to my face and the usual 'black faces' and arguing weren't present. And there had been epic battles of words during these gatherings before. Perhaps it was the significance of the event itself that dictated this temporary calm. It was a wedding after all. Whatever it was, i was grateful for it.

That night saw me conversing with everyone and i enjoyed the communication between them.

I also saw a side of my cousins i had never seen before.

Drunk cousins.

I guess that really drove in the fact that we have already grown up. It was pointless to live in the past and expect of people to relive their past selves. As fucked up as the current family environment is, we have to adapt to it and learn to overcome these challenges and strive to maintain the all-important bond that only my family shares. And that is a love like no other.

I had a nightmare.

I was struck by lightning.

Waking up with a jolt, all i thought of was my PoPo scolding me.

"Watch your mouth boy, or you'll get struck by lightning"

Back when i was a kid, no older than 10? I was extremely disrespectful to my PoPo. Actually it wasn't just her. Everyone in my household including my Uncle DJ and my Mum incurred my juvenile tamper tantrums.

When i would come home after a long day at school, my popo would start nagging non-stop about eating dinner, bathing etc. My usual reply, probably too explicit to post, was cold, offensive and rude.

My campaign to go against the household authorities didn't seem to have an end in sight.

The consequences of my actions were often painful, but the beatings only added fuel to my pre-teen angst-laden rage.

I don't remember exactly when it happened but it did. I had committed yet another 'cane-worthy' offense in school and my mum reached her boiling point. That night when i came home from school my mother sat me down and talked to me about ethics and values for a good 3 hours. By then i had forgotten about the embarrassment i got from my public caning in school. What i felt was something very unfamiliar to me at that time.

Shame.

This new feeling sparked off a whole new range of emotions and thoughts which ran through my mind non-stop. That night, i couldn't sleep and only thought of becoming a better person. I had seemed to lost all respect for my peers my family and most importantly, for myself.

If i didn't respect myself as a person, what chance does some other person stand? I did not care how people looked at me, i didn't even care what i thought about myself. But now, i was absolutely disgusted with my behavior in the past and i sought to change.

Obviously the change didn't take place overnight.

Even till this day, i lose my temper at them now and then.

However, if my mum did not give me that lecture on that fateful day, i might still be the same rude 10-year old with no respect.

Since then, communication between my family has been a key point in our relationships. Without it, i wouldn't understand their motivations for disciplining me etc.

My mum had taught me to respect myself and treat others just as i would treat myself.

This lesson i would never forget (hopefully)

I haven't seen him since i was a little kid. My mum told me that he had been serving a sentence in Changi for an offense he didn't even commit. That's not to say he wasn't in the wrong though. He tried to rob an electronics store in the dead of the night and failed. He left without any loot but left a nice image on the store's CCTV for the cops to look at.

A 10-year sentence later, there he was, right in front of me. I had fond memories of him during my childhood. He use to buy me treats like chewing gum from JB and even tried to offer me a cigarette when i was just 6 years old! Looking back, clearly he was a disturbed man but yet, i managed to see the humanity in him and i found myself surprisingly concerned about his plight when he told me he needed a place to live. I told my mum who didn't appear too happy to see him at our doorstep.

After a long sit-down and talk with my Mum and Grandma, Uncle Tommy was sent packing and he never returned.

This little experience made me think about the bond between family members. My grandma AKA 'Po Po' told me he was a very bad man. Always disrespecting my great grandma and eating away at the family's measly income. He had gone to jail with over $10k owed to the bank with my grandma as the sole guarantor. My Po Po had to go through a lot of government nonsense to rid herself of this debt. Naturally, grudges wear borne.

Still, i was left wondering why Uncle Tommy was dismissed so promptly and decisively. Would that happen to me one day if i happen to betray the trust of my family? I certainly hope that our ties can hold steadfast even through difficult times.

Either way, i realised the meaning of mutual trust and respect between family members and how easily (or hard) it is to be broken. And as i had just seen, the severity of betrayed trust and the hurt that it can cause is immeasurable and extremely hard to mend.

I guess this taught me to be much more grateful for the love and care my family has showered me with.

Oh yea blood IS thicker than water. Not too sure how this applies to this post but sounds smart eh? Perhaps Uncle Tommy will come knocking tomorrow again.