My uncle, mother’s brother (Kow Fu 舅父) was a grave digger and his job was sheer manual hard work 

He never took a day off and he even dug graves on 1st day of Chinese New Year if necessary. My mother would take all of kids to visit uncle on 2nd day of Spring Festival.

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There is no room for superstition as the name Bishan means a visit to a cemetery. The cup of coffee with the bread was a breakfast that sustained my uncle till lunchtime. We kids loved to breakfast with Kow Fu and drank coffee like he did only to have it dribble out of corner of our mouths and stain our beautiful new clothes.

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Uncle was very humble but stubborn. He visited our home only once and never came again. He told my mum he was afraid he brought shame to my mother because he had such a lowly paid job.
 

• I would love to remind my uncle there is nothing shameful about an honest day’s work

• I would like to show him how I HAVE NOT perfected the art of drinking from a saucer

• I love my uncle’s voice. He had this deep low voice and my mother described it perfectly. He sounded like rumbling thunder

in the distance.