masterwordsmith-unplugged

Of late, I have been coming to grips with my own mortality. Death. Where will I be when I die? How will I die and when will I die? What if my spouse dies before I do? How will I cope? What if I die first? How will he and my boys cope? So many people have passed away suddenly in the past few months that made me think of death and made me wonder just how much time I have left on this earth. Just yesterday, I learnt that my my two boys' bas sekolah driver succumbed to a heart attack. Life is so short...



My dad died three years ago on October 16th, 2007. I have written a few posts about my dad and coping with the loss was a very painful experience. I cried for seven months before I finally came to terms with the loss. Being an only child has not been an easy road to travel.

For almost two years, I tried my best not to drive past the place where he lived. The memories were just too painful.

On October 15th, my husband was to have taken him to the hospital for a checkup and I had this horrible premonition that he would fall down somewhere and be injured. I did not dare call dad to ask him to stay at home to wait for my husband to take him to the hospital for fear that he would scold me for my baseless and nonsensical fears. My husband also did not call him as the night before, he had confirmed the time when he would pick dad.

On that fateful Monday morning, my husband drove to dad's house and he was not there. He waited for a while after receiving no reply when he called dad's mobile. Minutes later, a neighbour ran to my husband and said that dad had fallen down at the nearby market and was unconscious after hitting his head on the pavement.

When my husband called me, I screamed as my premonition had come true. When my older boy came to the hospital, dad was already in a comatose state with renal failure. The sight of dad with all the tubes and machines around him was just too painful for the rest of us.

Amazingly, when my older boy held my dad's hand and called out, "Ah Kong, Wah Lai Liau (which means Grandpa, I am here)", my dad gripped his hand so tightly for one whole hour. We just wept and wept beside the bed. No one could explain how dad could react but somehow, he knew we were there.

To cut the long story short, dad died the next afternoon without gaining consciousness. I love you, Papa, and you are always in my thoughts just like Ma who died in February, 1972. Parents must always be the most important people in our lives.

Why am I writing this post? Pauline Leong sent me this link called Days With My Father by Phillip Toledano which made me sob uncontrollably. A very good catharsis indeed because until this evening, I have not cried at all this year.

It is a very beautiful record of a son and his journey to look after his dad.

If you still have your parents with you, treasure the moments with them. Show them love, take care of them and never send them to an old folks' home. Give them the love and care because they are your parents who gave you life, brought you up and moulded you into who you are today. I wish I could turn the clock back to call my dad that morning to ask him not to go out of the house. I wish I had not been scared of his scolding. Perhaps he might still be alive today. But he is not. Yet, I love him still and both my parents are always in my heart. May they rest in peace wherever they may be.

Take care and God bless you. Pardon the rants of an old sentimental teary old lady. Please visit that link called Days of My Father by Phillip Toledano. In many ways, I feel the same way like he does but am not as good as him in expressing himself in words or photography. May his words and his story touch you and remind you of ....your beloved parents whom you love ....