Sons and Lovers

Well, fate had it that I was to meet the boys over in Melbourne before any of them could come home. RMIT convocation could not be postponed for our convenience nor did we want Izaz to have to wait till the next graduation ceremony to have his family celebrate his day with him. So after finally conquering  my nerves over my separation anxiety (from Alman), I confirmed my ticket at the last hour and took the late night flight to Melbourne 36 hours before the auspicious day. My husband did not know that I’ve always preferred the window seat, simply because I enjoy watching the clouds, the sea and the coast lines below and especially the first flickers of life in the city where my loved ones would be waiting for my arrival.                                                                                                    

I was too deep in pensive mode, all aflutter inside at the prospect of meeting both my sons and my sister Pid and her family, after one and a half years, and at the same time filled with the sadness of leaving Alman behind, to entertain any grouchiness over the aisle seat. I fell asleep exhausted half the time.

Four days came and went. Fleeting joys captured in my treasure trove of memories that will never fray nor fade. 

Those precious moments kept me wakeful throughout the day flight home, sandwiched between sleeping strangers in the middle row. With little elbow room to do any writing or even to hold up a book comfortably, I gave in to the tightness and floated happily in my thoughts, recounting events over the last four days in exact sequence with explicit details over and over again. As exhausted as when I came, but unable to sleep.

Day 1 : 

Idzfan met me at the airport 5 minutes after I came out with the trail of arrivals and was just about to take a seat, happy enough to wait for him despite a full bladder. I have a phobia about airplane toilets. I did not want to spoil the highly anticipated moment by disappearing and giving him the slightest anxiety over my whereabouts. I haven’t changed. I was that way since my first visit 10 years ago when he started his studies in Melbourne, and I’m still that way now…..so too with Izaz who came to study later. Moments of such reunion suspend all cares and doubts, recharging the bond of sustainable love with a joy that fills into unshrinkable pockets of happiness. Unlike vulnerable vows and breakable promises of romantic love that can cut through the test of time.

Idzfan had lost weight, nicely toned.     

A call to Izaz to check whether he had left for work. He was still home and we reached in time for me to catch him downstairs. My graduating boy looked more mature now, always handsome to me but a bit gaunt and without that whimsical smile that always comes when he is about to tease me or give a wry comment about something. Well, I couldn’t fret about that as he was actually rushing to catch the tram and worried about being late for his shift at Sensory Lab. He has grown then…I never saw him that worried when he used to be late for work in KL!

Mika, the house cat, greeted us at the door and started inspecting me as I freshened up quickly. Weather was great, I didn’t have to add anything extra on. Idzfan drove us straight into the city and we headed to Sensory Lab at David Jones where my barista kid must already be whipping up his thirtieth cup of coffee or so for the morning. I love the ambience of the place and I thought about how well he blended in it. The mocha was perfect  (especially after having refrained from caffeine on the plane for fear of its diuretic effect) and the fruit muffin uplifting.

Then on to DFO to meet the happy trio from Perth – shopping! Pid, Yan and Izi had been using their holiday budget home in KL all these years. This inaugural holiday in Melbourne coincided with Izaz’s convo and Idzfan’s holiday there en route to Jakarta and home, so what could be more wonderfully synchronous? From DFO  we went back to South Melbourne where Idzfan and I shared a plate of salad and a spinach and cheese roll on the sunny sidewalk at “The old paper shop deli”. Pid and family went back to City Park Hotel, Idzfan and I back to Izaz’s place on Dorcas. Papa King (Yan’s title at work) arranged for us to meet at Papa Rich for dinner, where Izaz would join us after work.

The food and service at Papa Rich were a class above the chain outlets in KL. Yummy dishes peppered with Papa King’s jokes, chit chat over old times, dreams for the future…who needed entertainment?

Bunking in Izaz’s room, I’d never slept better.

Day 2 :

12^th Dec - whole day was reserved for Izaz - RMIT convocation! However, Idzfan and I managed to keep our resolve to take a walk in the botanical gardens first thing in the morning before heading to Federation Square where the RMIT graduates’ procession through the city would end. The gardens was spectacular, a meticulous, loving work of art. After the walk, we stopped for a drink at a café along the gardens. The pineapple juice was the purest and sweetest I have ever tasted.

Fantastic weather, festive crowd, high spirits at Federation Square. We spotted Pid and company quickly. Smiling faces, colourful robes, arms waving…yey! there was Izaz sauntering over  from the line! Cool and grinning, he looked really happy. It’s been a really long time since we had been out together like this, just taking things easy and enjoying the moment without anywhere to rush to.  Photo sessions ensued. Yan took mostly candid shots. I chatted with a mum from Malacca whose son graduated with MA in economics. A couple of speeches, a Maori dance and a musical performance later and we were done with the first part of the day’s celebrations. Izaz took over (as Idzfan had a business appointment) and drove us to a fish & chips place on Lygon St. for lunch. A big scrumptious helping enough for two for me and Izaz while the rest had huge sushis. Yan swore these would cost a couple dollars more each in Perth. Then we headed for Reverence, the family restaurant in Ascot Vale where Izaz enjoys his second job as a barista. His boss, Annie, made our coffees. Served in a glass half the size of that at Coffee Bean, my mocha was just enough and in fact, much more satisfying. Izaz took me to the kitchen to meet Annie’s mum, the bakery chef. Cosy and efficient now, the place has exciting potential. Renovation and extension work would be started soon, we were told.

Either Izaz had not driven for a while or the day’s excitement was getting to him as I didn’t feel quite secure in my seat. When Yan pointed out the Royal Children’s Hospital, the project that Idzfan was involved in, someone honked….Izaz had swerved to the other lane! He is usually a steady driver, allowing me to snooze in peace in the passenger seat whenever. 

Back home to rest for a bit before we got ready for the convocation ceremony at Ettihad Stadium.

Donning his new retro-motif shirt and papa’s 80s jacket, Izaz struck a few poses for my amusement and sprayed on abang’s perfume before going out ahead of us for the night’s ceremony. It rained a bit as were walking to the stadium, drenching my dream of looking chic beside Izaz with my newly washed hair, in the photos later. Luckily the weather is Australia has always been kind to your hair, not too quick to frizz it up.

The stadium was already packed by the time we arrived. The band was playing on the centre stage where the university senate and academic staff were to be seated and doctoral degrees conferred. The seating was arranged in sections according to the various schools, each with its own stage and electronic board displaying the names of graduates as they came on stage to receive their scrolls concurrently. So we were seated at “Information Technology”  with a holistic view of the grand set-up though the crowd around dimmed into specks of colours that seemed to move rhythmically. We had fun trying to spot Izaz under the cap and gown. They all looked the same from behind. What a thrill to see Ween’s congratulatory tweet to “brother Izaz” appearing on the big electronic board “all the way from ampang..” Yan managed to capture a full video of Izaz receiving his degree and walking back to his seat (yes…one of us spotted him right!). I couldn’t believe for a while that school was over for Izaz…until he came over and posed for our cameras with his scroll  and a plaque on the wall just above his head that said “it’s time to step up into the world”! As Yan captioned it later among the many, many pictures he took of our trip, “the sign says it all”. OK so my baby’s grown and I don’t need to send him money any more, but he was still clinging to me in the mornings with “ma, milo?”…..except that the milo tin in his kitchen was tiny unlike ours in KL.

Izaz wanted to hang out with his friends after the ceremony, so the rest of us went ahead to Crown for supper. Lamb kebab, submarine sandwich, Japanese pancake, ice cream….all worth every penny except for the snack Pid ordered which she had to discard as it mistakenly had ham in it. A drive through the city afterwards lulled us into a deep slumber for the night…..

Day 3 :

The shortest day with my boys! Idzfan couldn’t get up to run in the gardens at 8am as planned and woke up only after Izaz had left for his 11am shift at Sensory Lab. Pid’s home-made banana cake was great with milo.  I really missed messing up in the kitchen to cook their favourite dishes but the trip was too short this time.

Idzfan and I went straight to the car rental company to return the car, then to the post office where I amused myself looking at many interesting toys and gift items while waiting for Idzfan to pay some taxes. I was tempted to get a couple for Alman but stopped myself thinking I had 2 more days to find better ones. We were then set for a day of city romping together, starting with a café outside the GPO where Idzfan had latte and I had the slickest and most invigorating fruity drink. The almond croissant we shared was rich and refined, fresh from the oven.

Walking through the arcades has always been one with of my favourite day dreams back home and there I was window shopping at my leisure with my son. Idzfan too said that he hadn’t, for a long while, felt so liberated and light-footed as he did that day, with no work deadlines to meet. We picked up a book for Alman at “Little Bookworm”, a t-shirt for Cik Minah, chocolates for Xmas presents. Then we had lunch at ‘Rich Maha” off Little Collins – ghee tosei, roti canai, teh tarik that were more generous in flavour than any I’ve tasted at mamaks in KL.

It was a really hot day. Boost juice helped but a while later, despite a heavy downpour after Idzfan kept his appointment with the company lawyer, I felt extremely dried out and slightly faint. We stopped to gulp a glass of bubble tea each. I had my favourite, red bean milk.

We bumped into Pid & company outside David Jones just after Izaz got off duty. They had spent the day looking over music schools for Izi and were going to Crown again for dinner while Yan wanted to have a closer appraisal of the décor and artistic works. We went to Melbourne Central together to get more t-shirts for Cik Minah ( trust Izaz to choose the raunchiest prints which she would least understand) and to David Jones where they got a coffee plunger as a wedding present for cousin Rina in KL.

Izaz wanted a snack before dinner, so off we went back to their favourite Indian café – roti canai and teh tarik again. We missed Izwin, especially at tete-a-tete sessions like this.  Whenever the three of them get together, childhood memories tend to flow out easily, melting off the months or years of separation inevitable between them since the boys left for Australia. Yes, it seemed only yesterday that I last sat chatting with them over drinks, but it was actually in July 2011 when both of them were home for Izwin’s wedding. Sustainable bonds, spiritually inseparable. No vows need to be spoken for enduring love made in heaven.

We agreed to have dinner at Sawadee at 9pm. It was a late night shopping day. While Izaz went off to meet some friends who were flying back to KL, Idzfan finally had a couple of hours to focus on shopping for his own needs. In the men’s section of David Jones I found the leather arm chair at the same position it was placed 10 years ago when I sat and waited while Idzfan selected underwear and stuff. There I was doing it again but this time I could doze off a bit as I did not have to be alerted to pay. Idzfan paid for himself. Even the skeleton mannequin looking on nearby couldn’t disturb me. A 3-piece designer outfit hanged on him and Yan had gone bonkers earlier teasing me about breaking the guy’s heart to the bone, making him wait too long before I decided to come to Melbourne. Yeah, right…even mannequins have a heart and they sometimes eat them out.

Sawadee restaurant felt like home. Soup, green curry, sweet sour fish and mixed vegetables were so good. Relaxed atmosphere, fast and friendly service.  The orders were actually meant for 4 persons. Things can’t be perfect all the time. We took a cab home and slept like a log…    

Day 4:

Idzfan left for the airport very early to fly to Jakarta for a friend’s wedding. The thought of meeting up with him in KL 4 days later is an excitement I can still feel vividly today, kept alive in my pocket of happiness. At the same time though, this was my last day and my heart was already starting to sink at the thought of separating from Izaz again. We don’t want to sustain sadness but sometimes it refuses to leave. But Allah prepares comfort for us in many ways…Alman’s face never left the window of my mind.

Izaz went to work as usual. As planned, Pid and company walked over from Seasons Botanical where they had moved into on their second day (and loving it) and met me downstairs. It was drizzling a bit, but walking in the rain seemed so natural here. We were dressed for it. We walked and walked….into a few interesting salvo shops where I bought some books for Alman, through the convention centre and to DFO where we did some shopping and had lunch. It was great fun, but Izi couldn’t find any dress suitable for her graduating performance in June.

The room at Seasons Botanical was ample, equipped with washing machine and dryer, fridge and cooker. Good for a family of four, great to come back to after a wet day out. About 4.30pm Izaz joined in to lepak with us. Papa King was about to parade in his branded stylish new pants, jubilant that he got them at 70% sale price, until he put his hands in under the pocket flaps and found….3-finger deep pockets!! Izaz immediately snapped a picture of it on his handphone and tweeted…what purpose flaps? Hahaha…..do not analyse the whys and wherefores of everything…

Yan had not got enough of Papa Rich, wanting to try the nasi lemak. We took the tram. We ordered new items, all of which pleased our palate. Continued chatting on future plans, then a quick run into “Big W” to buy a variety of tim tams and chocolates to take home for everyone. Then off to Dorcas to lepak in Izaz’s room, looked at photos and chatted about nothing and everything, hanging on to the last minutes of togetherness. Parting is never easy, particularly with people who have shared so much of your joys and sorrows, who have seen your children grow since they were in diapers and cared for them, for you, with so much compassion.

So long, adieu…….

I started packing while Izaz tidied up his room and sorted out his laundry. Quite as organizer when he gets down to it. We chatted like we always have when we are alone together. I hope Izaz will never lose that bluntness with me as he talks about matters of the heart. He is philosophical, naïve and practical at the same time. I kept bothering him to find out if Idzfan had safely arrived in Jakarta. He finally told me the news I wanted to hear at 4 am. I watched him sleep, a mixture of gladness and sorrow enveloping me in the dimness of the room. I hope he won’t be too lonely in his next journey to independence……

Day 5 :

Departure  day. Good old housemate Iqbal had offered to drive me to the airport as Izaz had to work morning. On the way to the airport, we dropped Izaz at Ascot Vale just before 8 am.

Iqbal accompanied me all the way, from the check-in counter to the departure gate. I was just in time for boarding and to give a quick reply to Pid’s sms. Melbourne airport is always hectic but well-organized.            

LCCT is an entirely different scenario of course. 1pm must be about the worst time to arrive….hot, hoots and honks!!!

Alman was locked in beastfeeding when I looked in the door. He turned and took just 3 seconds to stare before he recognized me and abandoned his nan-nan…..

Sunday 16^th Dec :

Hangover and back-to-routine. Alman is more clingy now, more expressive, more cheeky. He crawls all over, likes to play with electric cords and can stand unsupported for a few seconds. And love is in his eyes.

I always enjoy reading Soo Ewe Jin’s column in the Sunday Star. Today he wrote about his flight from Penang to Subang. Always seeming to be simply written, but with a myriad of messages to ponder over. His poignant words echoed what was in my mind when I started writing in this entry….

“….I was deep in thought for other reasons and the view was a gentle reminder that all things will pass. 

 Problems that seem insurmountable at times, when viewed at a certain level, will become more manageable once we take a step back”.

"And it helps, sometimes, when we are able to abandon our cares at ground level and view them from higher up”.   

Thanks to my husband for making sure I made it to the convocation and the reunion, but I hope he will remember to book the window seat for me next time. And thanks to the boys for their joint treats…..my true blue gentlemen!

“Sons and Lovers” by D.H.Lawrence…I wrote an undergraduate paper on that in 1974, the year I got married. I can hardly remember the story now or what I wrote….how can I when I was still so naïve and no part of it could have actually touched me though I was fascinated by it somehow. My lecturer must have, in her mind, added a qualifier to the title of the paper (…..”as seen through the eyes of a twenty something”) when she gave me  B+ for it. Not that I am inspired to read it again. It is enough that it reminds me what a blessing motherly love is, how complicated and unpredictable life can be and that true life’s lessons come only through experience.