Places We have Lived - Singapore

It is really difficult to condense such important topics to a few paragraphs and to keep the commentary concise. So, if you are still trundling along this path with me, thank you and for today the topic is part one of “Places We Have Lived”.
Singapore and friends and family who joined us there.

When my husband and I were driving home after having dinner with a couple of good friends we were catching up with, he turned to me and said “Well what do you think about the Singapore job?” I almost crashed the car (of course, I was the designated driver)! Earlier that evening our friends, who were on home leave from their jobs in Singapore, had casually slipped into the conversation that there could be opportunities coming up for a position there and would be happy to recommend my husband if he wanted them to. I couldn’t believe he was seriously considering it. I had tossed the idea out immediately as being too difficult, especially with two small boys at home – and what about family? How could we leave them behind? The logistics didn’t bear thinking about either. Then, as the idea began to sink in, I started to see real opportunities ahead and soon realised that our fate had been sealed the moment the subject first came up. It was agreed, my husband would go for six months first, just to see how things were and I would follow with the boys later if all was well.

Needless to say, off we went. Lock, stock and barrel and although it was heart-breaking to leave our family behind, it is possibly the best decision we have ever made. It is definitely true that had we decided otherwise, our lives would have been unrecognisably different.

Singapore is a small, well-manicured tropical island off the southern Malaysian Peninsula. It is about the size of Manhattan and it is possible to drive from one end to the other end of it in about forty minutes. At the time we arrived there the population was just over 3 million and most of the expat numbers (which was fairly sizable as an overall proportion) comprised of Americans, Canadians, Brits, Australian’s, New Zealander’s, South African’s and assorted other European’s. Each expat nationality had its own community which included social clubs, schools and network organisations. Sometimes these groups would cross-over and the International Community would come together as a whole, especially with events such as the annual Dragon Boat Festival and at International Schools events whose students were from a multi-national background. This connectivity was vital for newcomer’s support, especially when the newly arrived probably only knew the people they had arrived with in the whole of Singapore!

Everyone tried hard to make it as easy as possible to make friends and be inclusive with newcomers. Veteran residents would regularly push along Welcome Wagons, which would eventually be passed onto those same newbie’s after they had become veterans themselves. It was like watching a rolling stock of people as families arrived and left with a regularity that could leave you breathless, the average term of assignment for foreigners in Singapore at the time was 2 1/2 years total. Friends became firm friends quickly and those friendships were strong and binding. Friends stood in the stead of the family we had all left behind, we were all in it together. They became a support network, sounding board, shoulder to cry on, someone to celebrate with, someone to commiserate with and when the time came, they became the person who moved back home, but, was never forgotten. It was hard to say goodbye and there came a time with the long-termers like us (we lived in Singapore for almost 9 years) when it was just too painful to make new friends because the outcome was inevitable. All those feelings passed though when the time trundled round for the next Great Canadian Picnic or one of the Christmas Ball’s.

Because of living in Singapore I have made many friends, many I am still in touch with by phone or letter and others are friends on Facebook, too. I have gotten to know their children, mothers, brothers and sisters, without even meeting them in person. I know if I came across any of those folk again, we would pick up just where we left off. I miss them but that isn’t a sad thing because my life is richer for having met them at all. I am grateful for all of them and have the fondest memories from our time together.

As well as making new friends, we had many family and friends visit us whilst we lived in Singapore. Our living there offered them an opportunity to visit a place they would otherwise never consider. We always had them stay with us, which was so much part of the fun. With hindsight it is amazing how close and connected we all became during those visits. We laughed and cried, pontificated and debated. Our visitors became like our own personal FedEx rep, bringing with them teabags, chocolate, Oxo cubes, Angel Delight, newspapers and other assorted goodies we could only get from home. They always asked what they could bring and we always had a list! As well as sharing family holiday's with them, we celebrated my uncle’s 65th birthday, hosted the first part of my cousin’s honeymoon and we had parties for each of their arrivals, went sight-seeing until our feet burned and celebrated our time together tirelessly. I am grateful for everyone who came to see us. We had a wonderful time and it was always sad to see them go, but, were delighted they had visited at all. Living in Singapore was such an adventure and I am so grateful to have shared it with so many people.

Thank you for your company this far! We have lived in other places but that account is for another day. 

The Next Generation! - Grateful List No 2

Fortune has blessed me with children of my own and for that I am eternally grateful. They are not alone in the next generation of my family, though, as they also have 12 cousins!

Day 2: The Next Generation.

The day I found out I was pregnant with my oldest son and I held the piece o...f paper I was given confirming the positive test result I realised the enormity of what was about to happen. In that moment I knew my life would, again, change forever.

Truer words were never spoken!

My first son arrived in early November that year, almost two weeks later than expected, and in no rush at all. My suitcase was packed and waiting by the door for what seemed like weeks and weeks. He was a beautiful baby with saucer-sized eyes, thick black hair, rosy cheeks and a healthy pair of lungs, which he exercised often! He was curious immediately. Then a thought struck me “where is the instruction book for parenting him?” and for one terrifying moment I didn’t know what I would do! It was clear very early on how bright and sharp he was. Books were his thing, he loved them and he slept with his favourites on his pillow. He never stopped asking questions and wanting to learn. I am so grateful to him for being easy to teach and be with. We sometimes sat and played together for hours on end, some days I would even forget the time and then realise it was going dark outside. Just over three years later, his brother arrived and that’s when the fun and games began!

My second son arrived almost a week early and was in a hurry to be born. He had fair hair, big eyes and the cheekiest grin you have ever seen. He slept often, hardly ever cried, and when he was awake would not stand still. The only time he stopped was for hugs or cuddles. He was generous with his affection and for that I am so grateful. My dad used to call him “Billy Whiz” and I swear he was faster than that. If you could map personality types on a line, these two boys would be at either end of it. They were different in every way possible and the challenge for me was to stop them fighting with each other and getting up to mischief. I had the doctors’ surgery number on speed dial and used it often. They were funny and made me laugh a lot, especially when they got up to high jinks. They kept me on my toes and I loved being with them and missed them when they went to school. They weren’t alone, though, they had five cousins all in the same age range and when they all got together, which was often before we moved overseas, chaos reigned.

My next sister and I were pregnant at the same time, second child for me, first for her. We were very close in our late teens and adulthood and having a baby at the same time was a blessing. My niece was born 15 days before my son and as soon as I heard the news I took a bus and train and travelled for 4 hours to see them in the hospital. When she started to get a little older it became clear that my niece was not developing in the average range. Numerous tests were done and nothing could be pointed to as a diagnosis for her condition. We soon learned she was almost totally deaf and had motor nerve issues. The whole family closed ranks around her and it was amazing to see my sister fight for the best of everything for her daughter; the best healthcare, the best education, the best support services. She and my brother-in-law were tireless in their struggle to make sure my niece had what she needed. When I looked at my sister I no longer saw that fearsome child but a determined mother fighting for her child. They say that God is very careful when giving a special child to its parents and if that is true then he came up trumps by choosing my sister and brother-in-law. Soon two more children joined the family and they are as protective of their sister as her parents. It is awesome to see and I am so thankful to them for being the best family my niece could ever have.

Some of the next generation of my family are adults now and some are still at primary school. Of the adults two of my nephews serve in the military, one in the AAC and one in RAF. One of my nieces is a teacher and very creative with her class. Another niece is at university, another one at college and another at secondary school. One of my nephews is just about to start an apprenticeship and another about to finish a research degree at Cambridge University. Another nephew is heading off to do his A levels soon and the two younger ones are still at school and have great skills in football (nephew) and singing and dancing (niece). I am proud of them all and so grateful they are in my life.

If you have read this far, thank you for hanging in there!

The Grateful List No. 1 - Happy Childhood

A good friend of mine on facebook asked me to join in with writing about things I am grateful for in my life, for six days in a row, so, I started to write a list each day. Soon I found that there were so many things I am grateful for and six days was not enough to recall them all. Friends started to read the posts and encouraged me to write some more and as a result of that, this blog was born. The first six posts will be the original facebook posts, but, after that the list will continue. Here we go…….

Day 1. Happy Childhood.

I am starting here because this is the foundation to all my gratitude.

My parents and grandparents were not wealthy people but they were rich with love, patience, kindness and creative ways to stretch a penny. My maternal grandmother, Lizzie Gilbert, taught me how to cook, bake, pluck and clean a chicken (in those days when you had to take out all the insides yourself and pluck off the feathers by hand!) wash and sort clothes by and how to manage a larder. She is the only person I have ever met who could get 11 (yes 11 – no exaggeration here) roast lamb dinners from one small shoulder of lamb each Sunday. There was no fridge in her kitchen and although this may make me sound ancient, it actually was not that long ago. Money was tight so she managed as best she could. In spite of having very little, she would give away her last penny if someone came asking or if she saw someone with a greater need than her. She taught me practical skills with patience and love and never once shouted at me for making a mistake. From our time together in her kitchen I learned how to be grateful for the small things in life because these are often more important than the big things and that having kindness and compassion for others is as life should be.

As parents go my mum and dad were simply the best! My mum worked full time most of the time whilst I was growing up which is why I spent so much time with my nan. She was a seamstress and when she wasn’t out working, she made our clothes and worked on her trusty Pfaff sewing machine at home. Dad worked 7 days a week for the first eight years of my life and during that time he also went to night school to get further engineering qualifications to put him in line for promotion at work. Through all of my childhood I never once noticed how difficult things were for us financially. We kids had birthday cakes and present’s each year, Christmas presents at Christmas, Easter eggs galore and new shoes when we needed them. It is only with hindsight that I can see my parents struggle, but, money was never discussed in our house and there were some people living in our neighbourhood who were a lot worse off than our family. We laughed a lot and my favourite thing in the world was sitting on my dad’s knee and falling asleep with my head against his chest, just listening to his heartbeat. I have a clear picture of him one summer night, having just got home from work and still in his work overall’s, playing cricket out in the street with me and my brother and all the other kids in our drive (he was the only parent out there). He loved nothing more than batting the ball away just as hard as he could to make us scramble after it. I can see him clearly as he threw his head back and laughed uproariously as we moaned and shouted at him for hitting it too far! I am grateful for the love and protection my parents gave to me and my siblings. They shielded us from some of the harsh realities of life and by working as hard as they could, they gave us everything we could ever need.

There are five of us Parnell kids. My brother came along three years after me and then my sister two and a half years later. My brother was fast and bold as a child and not afraid to say what he thought. I was more timid than him in many ways. He got a new tool set for Christmas one year. (real miniature tools, just like dad’s). There was a hammer, screwdriver, real nails and tacks in there amongst other things. For a few months afterwards he was constantly in trouble for nailing things down into tables, door frames and chairs. He thought it was great fun “fixing things” and didn’t give a hoot!

My sister and I shared a bedroom when she was small. From an early age she was the tidy one and I was not! We had many run in’s about tidying up and she would complain about my lack of effort. One time she decided she was not going to tidy the bedroom ever again……..of course, she couldn’t bear it and caved in first! However, her quick temper and sharp tongue took the edge of this small victory of mine! The one and only time I saw my mother in tears when I was a child was when my sister had a tantrum in the middle of Manchester town centre. She was about 4 years old, stubborn as a mule and didn't like the new shoes my mum had just bought her. She decided to sit down on the floor in the street and kick and scream until she was hoarse. My mother couldn't move her and passer's-by were staring, tutting and muttering under their breath. My mother's tears were of frustration and embarrassment - she and my sister had very similar temperaments and still do!

Then along came the twins, my youngest sisters. I was eleven when they were born and from the moment I found out that my mum was expecting twins, my life changed forever. I became my mother’s helper in a way I hadn’t been previously. It was hard for my mum who was hospitalised for almost three months before the twins were born, after a scare that she might lose the babies at 26 weeks, especially as they were twins, they were unlikely to survive. She lay on her back in a hospital bed and hardly moved for 11 weeks, until the doctor said the babies would be ok. Some of my lasting memories of them as small children (other than washing nappies, making up bottles and rinsing them out) are when I would take them to nursery school after mum went to work. I would push them along in their pushchair and on the journey, Martina, who was a deep thinker, would ask me all sorts of unanswerable questions like; “If God is everywhere why can’t we see him?” or, “If air is see through how come the sky is blue? Samantha was quieter and more contemplative and would listen to the answers I made up, then she asked me more questions about the answers I had given.

My siblings taught me patience and gave me a sense of fun. We had great times together as children. We were all very fortunate that our parents were loving and kind people who took great care of us. For that I will always be truly grateful.