Family: a time to remember
Two years’ ago today, I received arguably the worst phone call any child could. The hospital called me in the very early hours to say that my father had passed away. Although time is a great healer and my family has slowly come to terms with our grief and his loss, I’ll never forget the series of events which followed that call nor will I forget what happened in the preceding fortnight when he was in a coma.
I’d like to share these tips so that they may help others who are ever in a similar situation of unexpected family tragedy:
(1.) Be good to each other in life.
(2.) Let the emotions come forth. Don’t suppress anything no matter how silly it seems.
(3.) Accept that birth and death are on the same string of Life’s mysteries.
(4.) LISTEN.
(5.) A physical hug is often more reassuring than words alone.
(6.) Do what is in your power and responsibility to practically provide a sense of security and continuity: emotional, physical and financial.
(7.) Expect unexpected eruptions of emotion.
(8.) SHARE.
(9.) Supplement family + friends’ support with professional counseling if needed.
(10.) Celebrate, protect and respect your loved one’s memories as much as those left behind.
We gave my father a traditional Chinese funeral and chose to cremate him. Then we scattered his ashes so he’s now at liberty to travel the world as happily in spirit as he was in life.
This is the poem I wrote especially for his memorial service:
OUR FATHER’S HANDS
He sat on the flagstone,
Glowing in the throw of a noon sun,
Mid-way through our school spring break,
With a penknife and a branch in his hands,
And a spark of mischief in his eyes.
Next to him my older brother watched on,
Already sensing adventures ahead,
As our Dad shaped the tools,
With which we would go hunting for fish,
And later, much later in search of life.
One autumn we stood by a kerb’s edge,
Eyes open,
Heads checking,
A light glimmering in the distant horizon,
Closer and closer it called.
“Is that a car?” I asked my Dad,
He shook his head and smiled.
“Something better — the future,” he said.
By his hands we crossed our first road,
Looking towards that bright light that wasn’t a car.
For a whole summer he lay on his back,
In the middle of a glorious park,
As our youngest brother crawled all over him,
Held safely in my father’s loving hands,
Surrounded by Nature’s green and gold.
“When will he start walking?” we asked Dad,
So curious about the little one’s new blossom,
Dad lifted him off his warm belly,
Until the baby was upright and cycling his feet in the air,
“We’ll have him running in no time,” he laughed.
We felt our father’s hands,
In these small but important events,
From holding our chopsticks to tying our shoelaces to turning the pages of a book,
Hands that gifted us roses in the garden,
As easily as build wooden chairs and fix broken machines and heal our wounds.
As he lay in hospital,
Eyes closed in coma,
It was these hands we held,
His connection to us of the senses,
Our love in our father’s hands.
Now once again we stand with him by a kerb,
Eyes open,
Heads checking,
All the best tools we can give him for the next life we have given,
His family and friends by his side.
A bright spark rises in the horizon,
It is the future and it calls him,
Be happy because he knows this and welcomes it with an open heart.
He’s reaching out to hold our hands a final time,
Love and memories in their touch forever.
Be good and brave and let go now,
So that he can wave us his last goodbye.
THE MEANING OF LIFE
They say that death, divorce and childbirth are life-changing events and can completely change our perceptions as well as the way we live our lives after they happen. Well, my father’s situation certainly brought out certain emotions and qualities in me which weren’t there before and some good things did arise from what was an awful experience.
Would my father be proud of us? Unequivocally, yes.
