Tuesday, October 28, 2008
living my dull life in a colourful world**
I suddenly realised how much i missed my Dad, and how much i loved him. Yes, it's totally random but it just suddenly came out. I was having a conversation with my Aunt on Skype and she was just telling me about her dream... about my grandma and my dad in the old 9-storey flat in Malacca, the one filled with many sweet memories? They were just there, in the room, and they knew i was in the UK. Just before Papa left the room, he turned, looked at my Aunt and told her that she must take good care of me...
I suddenly felt i was so blessed... I knew my Papa has always been my guardian angel.. giving me strength and protecting me all these while. My Papa was such a great man... who taught me many things even though we didn't spend alot of time when he was still alive. His character, just makes him such a charming person, glowing with confidence and such a responsible, hardworking and always with a positive attitude. Papa has just been there, silently, guiding me, holding my little hands, bringing me through all the experiences in life.
I miss him so much...
When we were little, he gave us, at least to me, the best childhood one can ever have. I think having a great childhood, just with pure innocence and just the love within the family has been an important building bloc of my life. It made me who i am, and what i am. Life was just simple and sweet. We used to watch shows in the master bedroom, and when we went to bed, i'll kiss my mom, and smell that beauty product she was using then which is still oh-so-familiar now. And i'll walk over and hold Papa's hands. I always feel a little awkward cos i felt so shy to kiss papa but sometimes i do... papa would stretch out his palm and i'll put my little hands into his. It felt rough, and big, and warm. It was nice.
I miss the way he called me 'moi moi'. How he used to horn after that U-turn he makes at the junction just infront of our house to announce his arrival to us at home. How he used to pick me up from school. How he used to carry my big and bulky bag, how he didn't mind the smell of sweat i had on my shirt, how happy i had felt whenever he arrived before we sang the national anthem before we were released. I missed how i used to lie across the seat at the back, and look at the big green trees down ECP, how he had drove off before i closed the door, how he was so angry when i hurt myself and bled while clipping nails on the way to the music examination, how he always told us his childhood stories and adventures.
I missed how excited and happy i was when i knew he was coming back from his business trip, and always looking forward to the goodies in his suitcase. We loved to open papa's suitcases.
I missed how papa used to carry me on his shoulders.
I missed the many trips we had to Malaysia on our Toyota Corolla.
Now as i think back on what Papa has gone through, i can't help but tear. He has been so brave, fighting the almost impossible battle with the devil that was growing inside, so positive in his attitude and his optimism and willingness to try all sorts of methods. It must have been so hard on him. Really. But he was always so patient. Seeing how frail my dad was last time, i was scared. When Papa had to move out to the living room to sleep cos it was so hot and it didn't help he wasn't very mobile then, my heartached. But it was just the better thing for him to do. Sometimes at night, i'll go to the toilet, and see him 'tossing and turning' sometimes', sometimes moaning in pain... I knew he was feeling really uncomfortable, but there was just nothing that i could have done then, at my young age of 13. I had always felt a sense of relieve when i finally see Papa closing his eyes and finally getting the rest that he needs, which was so hard to get.
There were nights that he had to ring the bell to get our attention to help him. We were always on our guard, and never dared to fall deep into sleep. I was quite sure papa must have felt so bad, and really so sad that he had to burden us to help him. Yes, he threw tempers, but was that too much? He must have felt so uncomfortable and frustrated with himself, and the 'trouble' he had to put us through... It was nothing at all. Yes, it might have been tiring then, and i had my frustrations then... but in my mind now, i never really blamed Papa at all. That was the least we could do.
There were times when Papa's leg's were so swollen, and his stomach so big. He just started to walk around in the living room, in circles. And there were times where i just sat down there watched him. I wished now that i could hold his hand and walked with him.
Papa's last time in the house. He told me and my mom where he put his documents and stuff like that. Guess he had a premonition? I could see the tears in Mama's eyes.He talked like he was never going to come back. There, the paramedics came. On the way to the hospital, in the ambulance, as i looked at Papa's frail body, how such a strong man had become so weak on a stretcher, on oxygen, barely keeping his eyes open, I turned away and i teared. It was just heartbreaking.
Following that, there were many visits to the hospitals. Almost daily, taking turns, talking to my Dad, eating together, spending time together, walking around together... You'll never have an idea how many tests he had to take, how many injections he had , and how many 'blood tests' he had to have. He was treated like an experiment. Practice 'blood tests' in the middle of the night... Denying him of any form of help if anything were to happen.. what was that? It's a life we're talking about! If i were any older and any more sensible, I would definitely have made this public. Can you imagine how many things were done to that frail body of my Papa's? Papa has been so brave and positive for us... It must have been so tough, and it must have felt so bad. And the lonely nights he had to spend in the hospital by himself.
At the hospice... Papa has always been praised for his optimism and is positive approach to life/death. Practiced Chi Gong everyday without fail if he managed to get out of bed on his own on days he was feeling better, joking as usual, independent... I remember once I was the only one in the room with Papa, because the rest have yet to arrive, i fell asleep. And I was woken up by something thrown onto my face. It was Papa. He needed help to get up to the toilet. He looked a little angry.. but i guess he must have felt even worse inside. Papa started to eat really little. And it's not a very good sign. And he always left the nicest things on the plate for us to try. And kept his favourite ice-cream for us. I think it was chocolate. It was tiring yes, but it still felt cosy, just that the setting could have been much better...
One day, just days before my exams, I haven't gone down to he hospice for sometime as i was preparing for exams. Got home in the evening and either mom or cousin called. Asked me to get changed and prepare to go down to the hospice tonight. Cos the Doc says that he might not be able to make it for the night. Previously, the doc has already told us to get mentally prepared that he might not make it through the week. I was shattered. Stunned and confused, i took a shower and got ready.
Many close relatives were there, talking to Papa. He looked good. Papa didn't like us to cry. He didn't like us to wear black or dark colours. He just didn't like us to cry. But as i stood quietly in the room as they were talking, i sometimes ran out to take a breather, or to secretly cry. I didn't want Papa to be upset when i cried.. Talking about food with his University friends, It was almost a deal to get him to go back to school to taste the food. We even asked the nurse. His friends, "It's a promise then,". Papa said, "Nope, it's half a promise.". I just burst out into tears.
Perhaps i just wasn't prepared enough for Papa to go. No, i was still young, and Papa has just been this great figure in my heart, in my life, in me. I just found it hard that i had to lose someone so dear to me. Friends and relatives left. Papa took turns to talk to us one by one, with just one of us in his room each time. He could barely speak. He was whispering, and always so afraid i didn't catch what he said, and kept asking me to repeat after him. It was my turn. All papa talked about was the wines and beers that he had? I later learnt that it was his way of telling me he was giving it all to me. He asked me to take care of them. And he told me that he really admired me. I guess i'll never have a chance to ask him why he did... Perhaps Papa was the only one who understood me the most.I knew he loved me the most. He doted on me.
And there. We fell asleep. Mom and sis in his room, by his bed, while brother and I went to the day room. Brother and Me was awoken at the same time. Minutes after, mom came to say Papa's gone. I realised.. It was no coincidence. It was Papa saying goodbye to us. As i walked through the corridor to his room... There he laid, with the oxygen still on. He was still. I tried to catch signs of life. I didn't think i imagined it then. I thought i saw him breathing. I was probably wrong when the coroner pronounced him dead. We quietly packed his belongings into bags. The man from the funeral parlour came. And they brought Papa away, just like that, wrapped in white cloth and twisted the cloth at the end. Just like that. I cried. They can't just take away my papa like that! Not like that! NOt just that...!
What happened after was just in a flash. Time seemed so slow but yet so fast. And after some rituals, they closed to the coffin, without us knowing. I felt really upset and angry then. Why hadn't they told us beforehand! But i guess it would have made things real difficult of us. There. Papa lying peacefully in there. Papa was finally gone.Forever.
I did one thing, the only thing i could do then to show how much i loved him.
Papa, you're my hero forever.
You're always in my thoughts.
I love u, papa.
Labels: Dad, life
' Fly Away
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
