He’s 83 but when he was hospitalized on June 4th he didn’t want me to worry especially when he knew that I was overseas. (I’m still away, having left Singapore since June 2nd.)
He told everyone not to let me know but before his “embargo” could be enforced, the news had already reached me.
I was later sent a photo of him. It showed him in the hospital. As if to assuage my fears, the email said “Tucking into bland low-fat dinner; appetite still there.”
Looking at the picture I almost cried. There I was so far away from home; feeling utterly helpless.
The image I saw differed greatly from the image I always have of him whenever I think of him: the picture in my mind – my favorite picture of him – is one of him in his mid-30’s, head full of hair, healthy looking, happy, smiling and confident, like a young towkay. Someone who would say “No problem is too hard to handle!” Someone with a great, glorious future ahead.
He raised us, nursed a sickly spouse till the very end and now lead a reasonably peaceful life in his twilight years.
Dad, please go on living, and live well!
Don’t break my heart!
Happy Father’s Day!
And many more to come!