Lets Get Personal

A few Tumblr entires ago, I said that if I were a millionaire, the first things I would buy would be one of those Solvin Bretzel things. The truth is, if I really did have a few million dollars, I wouldn’t care about that one bit. What I would do is I would use all the money to track somebody down.

Growing up with two full-time working parents (one of them in the Army, no less. And no, it isn’t my Dad, but that’s another story), it was not unusual for my family to have a full-time nanny/ housekeeper, or as we used to and unfortunately still call them now, “maids”.

Auntie Emma was from the Philippines, my mother’s age, and she was there the moment my older brother was born to years after my younger brother was. She spoiled me all the time because I was the only girl and the middle child, and I liked to think I was her favourite. I sat in her lap all the time, and she had several nicknames for me - Steffy, Tep-tep, Sweetie pie… Every night would end with her bringing up a comforting cup of Milo to my room. My most vivid memory of her was, strangely enough, this one time when she had an off-day and I stood at my gate crying for her to stay and not stopping till she promised to buy me a Happy Meal. She was there for all the Christmases and birthdays - saving up her hard-earned money (and by hard-earned, I mean hard-earned, maids earn an average of SGD$400 per month) to buy each of us a perfect gift - something we should have appreciated more if we had had more sense as a kid.

When I was around seven or eight years old, a large tumor was found in her intestine. At that age, you kind of don’t understand words like tumors, or even intestines, so I don’t remember much about it except that she was sick, and she had to leave me forever.

For years after she left, she would send a card for every birthday in the family - even to my Dad - in her familiar, illegible handwriting I struggled to read all through Primary School. We would send her cards and money sometimes, just to help her out.

We haven’t received a card or letter from her in almost two years.

I don’t want to think of the worst, but the feeling of absolutely not knowing where or how she is is awful. This story might not be as heartbreaking the way too many stories seem to be heartbreaking now, but for those of you who know this feeling, you might relate.

The point is, if I ever did have a million dollars, I wouldn’t care about anything else but finding her and returning all the love she gave to me.