Mrs Choi.
No one knew where she was born or her exact age*. She would never say. What was known was that there was a huge network of family scattered across the HK/Kowloon area into China or so it seemed. On her visits home she seemed to stuff her suitcase full of sweets, tshirts and the best genuine fakes this side of Tin Pan Alley, to be followed in short notice on her return by huge box of foodstuffs crammed full of noodles, snacks and savouries more commonly found on dusty shelves of South Asian supermarkets next to the waving ceramic cats.
She had a hard life. Of relationships which were not always straight forward and worked in that clichéd manner in a fast food emporium- long hours. She was as I can personally attest to; some cook. She was also cynical about men, and was somewhat surprised after one Christmas day lunch to be told to sit down and read the paper and watch TVB whilst I and my now ex brother in law did the washing up and cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom. Men never did that in her experience.
She was canny. Claimed that she had very poor English but there was always a glint in her eye that told you she understood perfectly well. She had 3 daughters who work in social care and education; the story of an immigrant family whose offspring strove to do better - and one which we seem to deny in this country. She doted on her grandchildren who came late on in her life.
She passed away this evening. A victim of Covid's icy grip. I know not what conditions were placed on her daughters in those final hours on them seeing her, but they played her the voices of her grandchildren which I hoped brought her peace.
I never married her daughter to her disappointment. And time proved that was the right decision... but I always regarded her as the Mum in law. And she was always Mrs Choi.
Not much of an obit but there it is.
* It transpires she was 84.
