Mak was great at cooking...and caring

The Straits Times Nov 3, 2009

My paternal grandma had little formal schooling but taught me lessons in life

By Lee Wei Ling

Of my four grandparents, I was closest to my paternal grandmother, Mak.

'Mak' is short for 'emak', or 'mother' in Malay. The same term is used also to address grandmothers. Rarely do Peranakans use the Malay word 'nenek' for grandmothers. So I addressed both my paternal and maternal grandmothers as 'Mak'.

When my parents were away, or during the school holidays, Mak would either come to our home in Oxley Road to supervise me and my brothers, or I would go to the house of my uncle No. 3 (Mak's third son) where she lived.

Once, before I started attending primary school, my parents left my brothers and me in Mak's care while they visited Malaya. It was around Chinese New Year, and I was playing with a Roman candle. Somehow, the flame flashed backwards and burned my right hand. I felt some pain, but what alarmed me more was the distress I caused Mak.

She had little formal schooling, but she had the presence of mind to drive me to Gleneagles Hospital, where my wound was cleaned and dressed. The doctor lectured her about how an important nerve in my hand could have been destroyed. That would have impaired the movement of my thumb, resulting in the reduced dexterity of my right hand.

I recall being at the railway station a few days later, awaiting my parents' return. Mak was nervous about facing my parents, but they were not critical of her. I think my parents already knew that their daughter was a daredevil and was too much of a handful for Mak to control.

I was dispatched almost every school holiday to uncle No. 3's house to learn cooking from Mak. I learnt very little cooking because I was not interested enough to learn.

My grandmother was more than a competent cook. She was a superb cook. The most tedious of recipes appeared simple in her hands. And she was so efficient that by the time she finished cooking, she would be finished with the washing up as well!

After a delicious lunch, we would retire to Mak's room, which had a verandah. There, I would read comics - something that was forbidden in my own home - or chat with Mak.

When I was older, I often recorded our chit-chat. I do not know if any of the oral history I recorded has been used. But I do know that my mother also spent some time recording Mak's recollections.

I graduated as a doctor in May 1978. Mak was delighted that, at last, she had a grandchild who was a doctor. She was especially pleased because she wished to travel and wanted a doctor to accompany her. So she took me on a guided tour of the United States that included the east coast, which she had never visited before.

Being responsible for Mak on that trip was quite a worrying experience. One morning in Honolulu, I woke up and found her gone, with no note indicating her whereabouts or plans. Many anxious hours later, she re-appeared - smiling sheepishly - with a middle-aged lady who she said was her close friend. Perhaps that was tit for tat for my burning my hand when I was a child and frightening her.

I never regretted going on that trip with Mak. Perhaps she had a premonition. She never travelled overseas again after that trip.

From the time I began working as a doctor till Mak's death in August 1980, I would drop in on her very often. After being on call the preceding night, I often got the next afternoon off. I would leave once all the patients under my watch were stable and had been handed over to the next doctor. Then I would go for a run and a swim, and drop in for 'high tea' with Mak.

Mak always had a wide combination of spices prepared and frozen. She needed less than an hour's notice to produce a Peranakan feast, complete with desserts.

She claimed that her birthday was on Chinese New Year's Eve. We had no way of verifying this, but it meant her birthday was always celebrated by her extended family at the reunion dinner.

In 1980, I had a choice of being on call either on Chinese New Year's Eve or the first day of the New Year. I asked Mak which day she would prefer my presence. She said that she wanted me to be present at her birthday celebration. I arranged my roster to satisfy her. But I also dropped in on her early on the first day of the New Year before going to work. She appreciated my effort and sent me off laden with goodies to be shared with my colleagues on call.

Later that year, she developed cancer of the colon. Dr Yeoh Ghim Seng, one of the top surgeons then, suggested masterly inaction. She died of a heart attack a few days before National Day.

I spent hardly any time at her wake as my department was short of staff. I had to arrange to be on call every day so as to get a day off for Mak's funeral.

My mother told me that a karung guni man had attended the wake and had knelt in front of Mak's coffin and wept. Mak had always been kind-hearted and would help anyone who needed help.

She would pick up unwanted babies from kampungs and find families to adopt them. She would collect old clothes to send to poor relatives in Indonesia. I have no doubt she must have helped the karung guni man. He had nothing to gain by putting up an act in front of her coffin.

I use the work area in the neurodiagnostic laboratory as my office. All the staff know I am Mr Lee Kuan Yew's daughter. I have a few photographs on the wall but none indicating my family connections - except for a photo of Mak, displayed prominently on the upper left corner of the board on the wall before my desk.

I sometimes see patients in my office, but they would not be able to guess my family connections from Mak's photo. She had always stayed below the public's radar while quietly lending a helping hand to all who asked her for help.

I hope I am worthy of being her granddaughter.

Dr Lee is the director of the National Neuroscience Institute.