My Sundays are sometimes busier than other days, as I have to attend church and help out with family matters. Today was no different.

Church

Today was Communion Sunday, and mum and I were late.

My mum said to me as we hopped into a taxi.

"Die... we're late. What time is it now?"

We usually attend the 8.30am service, the first of 3 on Sundays.

"8.30 lor."

"Die... die... sure no place to sit one."

Communion Sunday is the first Sunday of each month when Christians commemorate the Last Supper. And as with special church events, members make that extra effort to come and the church is always crowded. Usually we were early, but today we overslept. One of the hardest things about being a Christian? I'd say waking up early on Sunday morning.

As we drove and directed the driver (my church quite ulu a lot of taxi drivers have never heard of it before), my mother continued to fuss over the time, her hair and just about everything in general.

Thankfully, it's located along Old Bedok Road, somewhere near Tanah Merah MRT. As such, we didn't take too long to reach there. When we got out, I saw that the carpark was crowded with vehicles. The church has a serious parking problem as it has a rather small carpark. How bad was it? Let's just say that if reckless parking were a sin, we would all be going to Hell.

We rushed up and charged into the main Hall where the prayers and hymns were started. It was packed, but we managed to find seats in the last pew at the back. The service rolled on, during we prayed, listened to the pastor preach and sang hymns. After that, the Holy Communion started.

Ushers came and directed pew after pew of people to the front. I went along with Mum as were were the first pew to go, being the one right at the back. We would walk up to the altar, kneel down and pray. Then, we would be given a thin wafer (the size and shape of a 50 cent coin with a cross etched into it), and a tiny cup of grape juice (instead of wine cos of the kiddies and potential alcoholics). We would consume it immediately, representing the body and blood of Christ, and then be on our merry way back.

Disclaimer: I am not evangelizing, but simply providing details for informational purposes. Cos honestly before converting, I had no idea what in the world Christians did for service on Sundays and often wondered about it too. =)

As the last hymn was being sung, a few people left early, probably to move their cars which were blocking others in the parking lot. We headed downstairs to the canteen area (on the ground floor and filled with tables and benches, hence the name I give it). Every Sunday, volunteers from the various care groups and the Boy's Brigade take turns to sell food and drinks. The money usually goes to the church and the various charities it supports.

We got some cold milo from the vending machine instead (so much for a charitable contribution), then went outside where Dad picked us up.

The Home

Our next stop was Bedok Interchange to da bao char kway teow and some dim sum, and then the Home. As most of you know, my grandmother is currently in a dementia home for her own health and safety. We visit her from time to time.

My granny, despite being 80 plus, is far from idle. When we arrived, she was helping out by busily folding some cotton wool wipes. As she ate her char kway teow, she regaled to us the tales of her adventures in the badlands of Ward C. Since the last time we came to visit, she described how a fellow resident has sneaked up to her cupboard while she was sleeping, rummaged through it without permission and had taken out her bag. She had woken up, got really pissed and in her own words.

"Aku hantam sema dia." Malay for "so I beat her up."

I looked at mum and shrugged.

My granny, as usual, was as feisty as ever. Heh. She's a lao liu mang, don't play play! I suspect that all the other grannies are secretly afraid because of her ferocity, and that she's one of the top dogs in the Home.

We watch her eat for a while after that, then headed to Ikea for lunch.

Ikea

The restaurant in Ikea currently has a campaign to encourage patrons to return their own trays and clear their own tables. Unfotunately, with it being targetted at lazy Singaporeans, it has been a spectacular failure.

As such, there continue to be cleaners working round the clock, wiping tables and clearing dirty dishes. And just like in the hawker centre, politics do arise.

My mum went up to one person and asked her to help clear the table.

She refused, saying that this wasn't her area, a common refrain that you usually hear. Most cleaners are highly territorial, and are unwilling to expend that extra effort to clean a rival area's table. Why? I have no idea. Maybe it's a matter of doing someone else's share of the work.

As such, we waited for quite some time before the one in charge of our sector over. We had a good meal, then headed off to do more shopping.

Back to Bedok

After that, it was back home again, and I spent the rest of the day doing schoolwork. This was followed by mourning for the loss of my term break and marking the end of a so-called "holiday."