I LOVE YOU, DAD
Father’s Day has come and gone but the significance of the occasion remains.
It is at this particular time that I am more sentimental than usual.
Consider it a blessing and a great privilege if you still have your parents with you.
I wish to refer specifically to father.
Many are not so fortunate.
In fact there are among us those who have never known a father's love because of
various reasons such as early death, divorce or him working far away from home
to earn a living, most often not by choice but need etc.
For some reason, father seems quite content to take the back-stage allowing
mother, centre stage.
Perhaps it is the character of the man who is usually seen as the more reserved;
the quiet provider and unsmiling disciplinarian whereas mother, the nurturer
and care-giver.
I love my mother dearly but on this occasion, it is to my father (Low Sing - deceased)
that I wish to pay tribute.
In a way Father’s Day is painful to me because it brings back a lot of memories.
For a long time after his death, I lived in denial not wanting to accept the fact that
he was gone from my life forever.
Never again to feel his warm embrace or hear his fatherly advice and feel
his reassuring tap on my shoulder to say that everything will be alright because dad is here.
This December sixth, will be my father's third death anniversary and never a day goes
by that I don't think about him.
I miss him still and nothing quite prepared me for his departure even though he was with
us until the ripe age of eighty-five.
We are so blessed that my father lived a healthy and sick-free life.
He was never a burden to us even during the last 'leg of his sojourn' here.
In looking back, I admit that I have for the better part of my life, taken my dad for granted.
(Don't we all?)
But that has never deterred him or caused him to love me less.
One of the many deeds I remember clearly was of him sending me to the bus-stand in
the wee hours of the morning to catch the early bus to work.
And every evening, come rain or hailstorm he would be patiently waiting at the same
bus-stand to fetch me home, when I'm off work; sometimes late in the evening.
He had never complained and did this ritualistically until Ibecame mobile with
the acquisition of my first car.
What a proud moment for father and daughter!
He quickly taught me how to care for it; how to apply the correct pressure to the tyres,
to check the black oil and battery water etc.
And knowing how dense I can be in such things, he even bought me a tyre gauge,
an old useless tool today but one which I have treasured.
It was a constant reminder of him.
Dad may be gone but never forgotten for the values he had instilled in my life continued to
guide me. And how often when I am faced with some insurmountable problems, I will fall back
on his teachings and counsel.
Although a man of few words, he left a legacy of goodwill after him.
In my eyes, my father will always be my hero - strong, confident, wise, clever, unyielding and fair.
At family gatherings, when an old aunt or uncle casually passes a comment that
he/she sees some traces of Low Sing's characteristic in his daughter (while looking at me),
my eyes would swell with tears and memories would come flooding back.
Some times our loved ones are snatched from us when we least expect it.
Do not live with regret. Love them while we still have the chance.
There will come a time when all we have left are memories.
I love you, Dad.
Always have and always will. Rest in Peace.....
Written by : Ms. Sally Low
(published with permission)
Memories are made of these .....
