At breakfast, sister number 3 and I agreed, that our holiday away, just the two of us, was indeed a treat. It felt free and easy, and unencumbered.

At Mangala Boutique Resort in Pahang, there was a choice of freshly squeezed juices. A selection of fruit. A variety of pastries with homemade jam and butter. Western and Eastern offerings like avocado and mozzarella cheese on sourdough toast or nasi lemak or chicken curry noodle. Service was attentive.

Our lives that morning was to enjoy the food before us, marvel at the birds and squirrels in the trees and on the grounds, and absorb the inviting infinity pool and lake within our sight.

No interruptions. Just us. We spoke. We asked questions. Listened to the full answers. We didn’t lose our line of thought or forget and/or have them hijacked or abandoned altogether. We had time to ourselves. We sat and chatted even after the breakfast service ended at 10.30am. We were in the moment. Our moment. And, it was special because we were able to speak freely. Whatever we said was plain and honest. It was unfettered.

Sometimes, even the most conducive environments cannot cajole candid and open exchanges. What more coming from a big family, where conversations at holidays and/or get-togethers tend to stop, start, and/or get derailed. Expectedly and annoyingly, new topics and discussions emerge that mostly meet the same abrupt end or chopped fate. Some years ago, sister number 4 organised a holiday for our mum, my husband and me in the Blue Mountains in Australia. She employed a traffic-light system to help keep our conversation going without disruption. The system sort of worked and not.

It was funny, and it went like this. Sister number 4 would display the stop sign to stop the perpetrator, who butted in during a discussion. And, she’d display the move along sign to the incumbent, who had the floor at the time, to finish what he/she was saying. Our mum, who was a little deaf and a little too eager, was the usual perp aka disrupter😊

At Mangala, sister number 3 and I were able to do what we wanted, when we wanted. No programme. No tours. No rush. No consensus. No considerations. No input from anyone but us. Nice.

We sat, read and bird watched from our air-conditioned and fan-whirring wetlands chalet until the sun was less hot. Sister number 3 managed to spot hornbills, kingfishers, weaver birds, black naped orioles, herons, and monitor lizards that made intermittent appearances for her. Our mum’s ‘pakke-sitte’ or ‘betel sparrow’ was audibly present, everywhere we went. Yay. There were also a fair number of squirrels darting vertically and horizontally in amongst the trees.

We strolled all around the oil palm plantation. The lakes, farms, and orchards. We both smelled ‘sani’  or cow dung before we saw the cows in their pen. On cue, we both looked at each other. We had simultaneously thought of our paternal grandmother, Karupayee. She reared cows in Lubok Kawa estate in Kedah, where my dad’s family lived, a long time ago.

Sister number 3 who hadn’t cycled in many years wanted to have a go at it. So, we did. Just like that. Nice. It was one of the highlights of the holiday as she happily discovered that she could still ride a bicycle, rather adeptly. For me, it was fun and different as my husband and I usually walked whereever we went.   

Actually, it was sister number 3 who proposed this holiday away. Understandably, it was not quite possible or a consideration one year ago, when our mum was with us. Also, sister number 3 seemed to me and/or was more of a homebody, preferring to do day trips and dinners with brothers’ number 1 and 2 and their families.

So, it was a surprise and welcome suggestion. Why? It’s a feat finding time to be together, just the two of us. Sister number 3 lives in England. In years past, she returned home annually to be with and to help our mum prepare for her favourite celebration, Deepavali. She was the sous chef, taking over as chef as our mum became less able. She was also the co-conspirator in producing, as always, too many Deepavali cakes and huge meals. The two were in their element at Deepavali.

Sister number 3 visited throughout the pandemic years when our mum became unwell and reliant. One of her visits in 2021 extended from four weeks to 16 weeks, yes, four months. She couldn’t bring herself to leave our mum and return to England. She was present when our mum passed on 19 May, 2024, and present again for her one-year anniversary on 19 May, 2025. Hmm.

Sister number 3 flew home this morning. I love and miss her. What to do.