Post by Administrator on Apr 12, 2002 21:23:30 GMT 7
A True Love Story - President Ong Teng Cheong & First Lady
His touching words of farewell.
In a last farewell to his wife that touched many people and caused quite a
few to shed tears, President Ong Teng Cheong remembers the Shanghai girl who
became the First Lady.
" HERE lies a girl who came from an orphanage in Shanghai 50 years ago. She
arrived in Singapore at the age of 11, speaking only Shanghainese and owning
scarcely more than the clothes on her back.
But she rose far above her humble beginnings to run a successful
architectural practice, and to eventually play the role of the First Lady of
Singapore. But the route from the orphanage to the Istana was not all-smooth
sailing.
While in the orphanage, she was struck by rheumatic fever. But she was then
too young to realise the gravity of her illness. One of her heart valves was
permanently damaged as a result. Doctors who examined her while she was in
school in Singapore discovered it, and exempted her from all school sporting
activities.
The disease struck again while she was in the final year of her Architecture
degree course, and she had to be warded in hospital for "complete rest in
bed" for three months.
A quiet and determined girl, she refused to tell her parents or anyone of
her problem. She learnt to play the piano for only a few years, but was
frustrated that her fingers were not growing long enough to allow her to
play the octaves. She decided to give it up. But she always loved the piano.
Tireless and dedicated almost to a fault, her only hobby was work - work in
the office and work at home, including sewing and gardening. In her younger
days, she used to sew her own dresses, including cheongsams.
When asked how she did it, she would quip: "Reverse engineering." She would
unpick old dresses, and use the piece as a dress pattern to follow.
Siew May gave the Ong family two sons. The first son was a breech baby,
while the younger son was delivered by Caesarian section. Both deliveries
needed operations and required heart specialists to be present. We decided
to stop at two, because I did not want her to take any unnecessary risk.
I knew she would have loved to have more children, especially girls.
Happily, this was compensated for by the two lovely daughters-in-law we now
have in the family. She was a wonderful and loving mother. Although she
could neither swim nor cycle, she taught both Guan and Boon to swim and
cycle. And as she worked long hours at the office, she even taught them how
to cook their own lunches, when they were in primary and secondary schools.
We did not have a maid in the house for several years in the late '70s and
early '80s. She wanted everyone in the family to be as independent as she
was.
But she was, in every way, a devoted mother and a supportive wife, and
performed her multiple roles with equal dedication.
When I first met her at a party, she was only 15. She was an attractive and
lively girl. It was not long before I discovered that she was a thrifty and
highly principled girl as well. We began dating each other. Often we would
meet in coffeeshops.
Whenever we had lunch, she would insist on paying for her own lunch. Her
argument was that her father gave her pocket money that was for her use only
and that my father gave me pocket money that was for my use. So we should
pay for our own lunches.
At first, I tried to persuade her otherwise, but after two lunches, during
which she stood her ground, I realised that it was futile to argue any
further and we subsequently just went Dutch every time we met for lunch.
It was the simple things that gave us the greatest joy. We were happiest
just chit-chatting with each other, and whenever we had family gatherings.
Occasionally, when Sew May and I were alone, we would recite Chinese poetry
and verses which we had learnt and memorised together in our younger days.
Our grandson, Justin, was her real bundle of joy. She would look for him
first thing in the morning, and as soon as she came home from work.
It was an unfortunate twist of fate that she had to suffer from a horrible
disease at a time when she was about to relax and enjoy her retirement.
She bravely fought the disease for 20 odd years. She fought several good
battles, but the last one was swift and fatal. She was peaceful in her final
hours. Today, I wish to quote one of our favourite quotations from Su Dong
Bo (the Song dynasty poet). He said that to part is inevitable. But in the
simple but poignant words of Bai Ju Yi (the Tang dynasty poet), the loss is
an eternal pain.
We took pride that we had led a clean and honest life, and had taken our
marriage vows seriously - we had been husband and wife for better or for
worse, till death did us part.
Good bye, Siew May. We love you. "
His touching words of farewell.
In a last farewell to his wife that touched many people and caused quite a
few to shed tears, President Ong Teng Cheong remembers the Shanghai girl who
became the First Lady.
" HERE lies a girl who came from an orphanage in Shanghai 50 years ago. She
arrived in Singapore at the age of 11, speaking only Shanghainese and owning
scarcely more than the clothes on her back.
But she rose far above her humble beginnings to run a successful
architectural practice, and to eventually play the role of the First Lady of
Singapore. But the route from the orphanage to the Istana was not all-smooth
sailing.
While in the orphanage, she was struck by rheumatic fever. But she was then
too young to realise the gravity of her illness. One of her heart valves was
permanently damaged as a result. Doctors who examined her while she was in
school in Singapore discovered it, and exempted her from all school sporting
activities.
The disease struck again while she was in the final year of her Architecture
degree course, and she had to be warded in hospital for "complete rest in
bed" for three months.
A quiet and determined girl, she refused to tell her parents or anyone of
her problem. She learnt to play the piano for only a few years, but was
frustrated that her fingers were not growing long enough to allow her to
play the octaves. She decided to give it up. But she always loved the piano.
Tireless and dedicated almost to a fault, her only hobby was work - work in
the office and work at home, including sewing and gardening. In her younger
days, she used to sew her own dresses, including cheongsams.
When asked how she did it, she would quip: "Reverse engineering." She would
unpick old dresses, and use the piece as a dress pattern to follow.
Siew May gave the Ong family two sons. The first son was a breech baby,
while the younger son was delivered by Caesarian section. Both deliveries
needed operations and required heart specialists to be present. We decided
to stop at two, because I did not want her to take any unnecessary risk.
I knew she would have loved to have more children, especially girls.
Happily, this was compensated for by the two lovely daughters-in-law we now
have in the family. She was a wonderful and loving mother. Although she
could neither swim nor cycle, she taught both Guan and Boon to swim and
cycle. And as she worked long hours at the office, she even taught them how
to cook their own lunches, when they were in primary and secondary schools.
We did not have a maid in the house for several years in the late '70s and
early '80s. She wanted everyone in the family to be as independent as she
was.
But she was, in every way, a devoted mother and a supportive wife, and
performed her multiple roles with equal dedication.
When I first met her at a party, she was only 15. She was an attractive and
lively girl. It was not long before I discovered that she was a thrifty and
highly principled girl as well. We began dating each other. Often we would
meet in coffeeshops.
Whenever we had lunch, she would insist on paying for her own lunch. Her
argument was that her father gave her pocket money that was for her use only
and that my father gave me pocket money that was for my use. So we should
pay for our own lunches.
At first, I tried to persuade her otherwise, but after two lunches, during
which she stood her ground, I realised that it was futile to argue any
further and we subsequently just went Dutch every time we met for lunch.
It was the simple things that gave us the greatest joy. We were happiest
just chit-chatting with each other, and whenever we had family gatherings.
Occasionally, when Sew May and I were alone, we would recite Chinese poetry
and verses which we had learnt and memorised together in our younger days.
Our grandson, Justin, was her real bundle of joy. She would look for him
first thing in the morning, and as soon as she came home from work.
It was an unfortunate twist of fate that she had to suffer from a horrible
disease at a time when she was about to relax and enjoy her retirement.
She bravely fought the disease for 20 odd years. She fought several good
battles, but the last one was swift and fatal. She was peaceful in her final
hours. Today, I wish to quote one of our favourite quotations from Su Dong
Bo (the Song dynasty poet). He said that to part is inevitable. But in the
simple but poignant words of Bai Ju Yi (the Tang dynasty poet), the loss is
an eternal pain.
We took pride that we had led a clean and honest life, and had taken our
marriage vows seriously - we had been husband and wife for better or for
worse, till death did us part.
Good bye, Siew May. We love you. "
