Space for My Father

Last few weeks have been an emotionally complicated time. Adrian and I started out with lots of fun in Taipei: exploring the city with the ease of its excellent infrastructure; studying NLP under the grace of one of the creators himself: John Grinder; catching up with long lost friends; meeting friendly Taiwanese; and day-dreaming about moving to Taipei. At the end of our Taipei trip, just before going to Hang Zhou, I was told by my youngest sister that our father passed away of sudden heart attack.

I couldn't believe my ears and made her repeat a few more times; inside my heart, I wished I had heard someone else's name. I was dumb-founded and couldn't speak for what felt like a long time to me. When I uttered again, I was crying, and could barely talk for the next few hours. Adrian was quick to reroute our flight so we flew back to KL the next morning. It all went like a dream from then: I went through an emotional roller coaster of complete stillness to outburst of shock and tears on and off the plane.

My family arranged for my father a Taoist funeral ceremony that spanned three days. Friends and relatives came to pay their final tribute to my father. It must have been very awkward for most people: what do you say to family that just lost a son of 57 years old/ husband of 33 years/ father of 5 children/caretaker of 3 dogs? Interestingly, moment of sadness and tears flow was intervened by laughter and jokes as we shared stories of pass and present.

During the funeral, every time I looked into the coffin, I thought how peaceful my father looked and that at any moment he'd open his eyes and yawn. It didn't happen. When we were told to look at my father for one last time, I had this urge to touch his face but there's the glass panel that separated us.

I came back to Bangkok having spent 10 days with my family. It feels unreal still; somehow my father's passing is not quite registered in the brain. Still, there is this dark hole that haunts me whenever I think of him, his lack of presence: father's day, reunion dinner on Chinese New Year, who to pick me up at airport? And the needs to change from present tense to pass tense when I talk about my father..... And then there's my mother....

I'm thankful one of my sisters, Shiang Fay, is much more homely than I am. She readily gives up her job in Singapore to keep my mother accompanied in KL. I felt overwhelmed by an unspeakable duty as a daughter but I am too self-centered to make the step Shiang Fay does. Bless her filial soul.

Some friends avoid asking me too much about my father, so not to stir up my emotion. The truth is I still feel like crying when I think about my grandfather who passed away 16 years ago. I will probably still cry 20 years from now whenever my grandfather and father come to mind. Perhaps that's the way they stay inside of me.