A family story
In the End, They Chose to Be Together
The letters before Club 81
Singapore · Ayer Tawar, Perak · 1950s
I am part of the third generation of Club 81.
To me, they were always 外公 and 外婆. My grandparents.
I knew them as the people at the heart of our family, not as the young couple they once were.
Then I came across a small notebook of letters.
They were written by my grandmother to my grandfather, during a time when the two of them were living apart.
Through her words, I began to see a part of their lives I had never known.
The notebook
Letters, 1950s
Zhong Xian, my husband.
Singapore, 1950s
My grandfather’s eldest brother ran a grocery shop on Amoy Street, in Singapore’s Chinatown.
My grandparents moved to Singapore with their two young children. My grandfather’s mother was living there too.
They lived above the shop.
In 1954, their third daughter was born in Singapore.
For a while, Singapore was where they hoped to build their future.
Ayer Tawar, Perak
But Singapore never quite became home for my grandmother.
She missed her mother, her brothers and sisters, and the familiar life she had left behind in Ayer Tawar.
After a little over a year, she returned with the children.
My grandfather stayed in Singapore, where the shop’s affairs were still unsettled.
In one letter, she remembered the night they had parted on a train.
For a time, they lived apart.The letters made the distance a little easier to bear.
Much of what she wrote was about the ordinary things that filled their days.
Make sure you eat enough.
26 May 1955 · 你每天要吃饱饱的
Sleep earlier.
26 May 1955 · 睡得早些
Write to me often.
26 May 1955 · 要多多来信给我
If you feel unwell, see a doctor.
要请医生看看
Rubber prices have fallen again.
树胶又落价了
Every day, the two older girls say Papa is coming home.
Can you come home this month?
你在本月内你能不能回来呢
Back in Ayer Tawar, my grandmother was raising their children and tapping rubber to help support the family.
There were illnesses to worry about, bills to pay, money to send and receive, and relatives who came to help.
My grandfather wrote back from Singapore. He sent money, clothes, books and things she had asked him to buy.
Across the distance, they continued sharing the small responsibilities of family life.
And through it all, one question kept returning.
When would he come home?
The months passed.
Sometimes, she thought he would be home soon.
Then another letter would arrive, and his return would be delayed again. There were still matters to settle at the shop.
She missed him. At times, she was disappointed and frustrated.
But even then, she worried about his health, encouraged him not to lose heart, and reminded him that they could work together when he came home.
While my grandfather was away, my grandmother stayed with her mother in Ayer Tawar.
Their own home was being used by relatives. Their belongings were still there.
In October 1955, she wrote that she was waiting for him before moving back into their home.
She wanted them to return to it together.
Some of what she wrote was meant only for him.
She said so herself.
Those parts stay between them.
By the later letters of 1955, my grandfather was making plans to leave Singapore.
My grandmother wrote with growing hope, then disappointment when his return was postponed.
In the last surviving letter, she was happy again. The day they would see each other was finally drawing near.
We do not know the exact day he arrived.
But he did come home to Ayer Tawar.
And this time, he stayed.
Two people, and a notebook of letters.
Their children.
Their children’s children.
Club 81.
No. 81 was already part of their story before Singapore.
My second aunt remembers being born there.
The house has been renovated and rebuilt over the years. But every Lunar New Year, our family still gathers there.
The generations have grown.
And the family keeps gathering.
In the end, they chose to be together.
And generations later, we still do.
Your wife, Guo Ying.
Some atmospheric scenes on this page are visual recreations used to evoke the period.