Last week, my colleague, Robert insisted that last Sunday was Fathers' Day. To him, Fathers' Day came early. Probably, his children had celebrated the day with him last Sunday? I did not ask.
But, I have been remembering my father over the week in my morning prayers and devotion.
(Here is a recycled post. I could never have written this way if I am to write another one today.)
I always think I do not have many happy memories of my father. Recently, as I shared with mGf (read My Good Friend) about the not-so-good memories of my father, some good memories came back. My father went to the Lord 30 years ago. I had just started working then. My three younger brothers and sisters were still schooling in secondary and primary schools respectively. That was a long, long time ago …
My father was a school teacher in the early days, before I was born. As far as my memories went, he was a businessman. My mother told me he was a school teacher before. I remember finding the treasures in his Chinese books collection. He was a Chinese scholar. Besides running around in the rubber garden, vegetable garden and beside the river, my childhood days were filled with these Chinese books ranging from stories, jokes to great literature works.
That was my young days. My father's books filled my days…
I had just passed my 10th birthday when I entered my secondary school. I remember cycling three miles up and down the hilly road to school. My dad cycled with me to school on the first day. We had just moved from Sibu to Sarikei. I knew none of the classmates and was extremely scared. Dad stood outside the classroom for a long time watching over me even when class had begun. I still can remember a classmate remarked to her friend sitting next to her, “She thinks only she has father.”
That was my first day to secondary school. My father was there for me …
After I completed my A level, I went to Simanggang (now it is called Sri Aman) for interview. I was accepted by a Chinese Private Secondary School to teach Chinese. When I came back to Sarikei (5-6 hour of bus journey on very bad road), my father said if I was to take up the job, I would need to bring a “maid” with me to take care of me. I could not imagine having a maid with me when I was merely earning 320 dollars a month! But, father’s words were king’s order at home – nothing could change this order. I was upset and informed the school that I would not be joining them. I left Sarikei for Sibu where I was employed as a translator (translating news from Chinese to English) in my present company.
That was my first job. My father was there for me too …
During those days (or even now), I started work early and did not go back for lunch. My mother would always prepare a lunch box for me to bring to work. And there were surprises day after day. During the days when my mother was away, my father would also wake up early to prepare lunch box for me. My father did one step more, he put the lunch box on my car’s wiper to make sure I don’t leave home without the lunch box. And the lunch boxes had even more surprises!
That was the days when I started building my career. My father was there for me too…
The reason I chose not to remember my father was because my father, though a caring father, was not a great husband to my mother. Last year, I wrote this –
In fact, from the little woman’s point of view – The greatest gift a child can have is a father who loves and respects the mother and does not tolerate disobedience or disrespect on the part of their children.
How ignorant I had been! I had been that disobedient and disrespectful child to my father – yet he loved me enough to be there for me when I most needed him. He was there at every milestone of my life. Shakespeare said, "How sharper than a serpent's tooth is a thankless child." And, I have been guilty of being thankless! There has not been any recognition whatsoever of what I have learnt through these many years from my father. It’s an over-inflated view of self!
This poem by Roy Lessin gives me new meaning of my father –
A Dad is respected because he gives his children leadership…
A Dad is appreciated because he gives his children care…
A Dad is valued because he gives his children time…
A Dad is loved because he gives his children the one thing they treasure most – himself.
- Roy Lessin
Dad, you had been a great father – I wish I had said so some 30 or more years ago!
But, I have been remembering my father over the week in my morning prayers and devotion.
(Here is a recycled post. I could never have written this way if I am to write another one today.)
I always think I do not have many happy memories of my father. Recently, as I shared with mGf (read My Good Friend) about the not-so-good memories of my father, some good memories came back. My father went to the Lord 30 years ago. I had just started working then. My three younger brothers and sisters were still schooling in secondary and primary schools respectively. That was a long, long time ago …
My father was a school teacher in the early days, before I was born. As far as my memories went, he was a businessman. My mother told me he was a school teacher before. I remember finding the treasures in his Chinese books collection. He was a Chinese scholar. Besides running around in the rubber garden, vegetable garden and beside the river, my childhood days were filled with these Chinese books ranging from stories, jokes to great literature works.
That was my young days. My father's books filled my days…
I had just passed my 10th birthday when I entered my secondary school. I remember cycling three miles up and down the hilly road to school. My dad cycled with me to school on the first day. We had just moved from Sibu to Sarikei. I knew none of the classmates and was extremely scared. Dad stood outside the classroom for a long time watching over me even when class had begun. I still can remember a classmate remarked to her friend sitting next to her, “She thinks only she has father.”
That was my first day to secondary school. My father was there for me …
After I completed my A level, I went to Simanggang (now it is called Sri Aman) for interview. I was accepted by a Chinese Private Secondary School to teach Chinese. When I came back to Sarikei (5-6 hour of bus journey on very bad road), my father said if I was to take up the job, I would need to bring a “maid” with me to take care of me. I could not imagine having a maid with me when I was merely earning 320 dollars a month! But, father’s words were king’s order at home – nothing could change this order. I was upset and informed the school that I would not be joining them. I left Sarikei for Sibu where I was employed as a translator (translating news from Chinese to English) in my present company.
That was my first job. My father was there for me too …
During those days (or even now), I started work early and did not go back for lunch. My mother would always prepare a lunch box for me to bring to work. And there were surprises day after day. During the days when my mother was away, my father would also wake up early to prepare lunch box for me. My father did one step more, he put the lunch box on my car’s wiper to make sure I don’t leave home without the lunch box. And the lunch boxes had even more surprises!
That was the days when I started building my career. My father was there for me too…
The reason I chose not to remember my father was because my father, though a caring father, was not a great husband to my mother. Last year, I wrote this –
In fact, from the little woman’s point of view – The greatest gift a child can have is a father who loves and respects the mother and does not tolerate disobedience or disrespect on the part of their children.
How ignorant I had been! I had been that disobedient and disrespectful child to my father – yet he loved me enough to be there for me when I most needed him. He was there at every milestone of my life. Shakespeare said, "How sharper than a serpent's tooth is a thankless child." And, I have been guilty of being thankless! There has not been any recognition whatsoever of what I have learnt through these many years from my father. It’s an over-inflated view of self!
This poem by Roy Lessin gives me new meaning of my father –
A Dad is respected because he gives his children leadership…
A Dad is appreciated because he gives his children care…
A Dad is valued because he gives his children time…
A Dad is loved because he gives his children the one thing they treasure most – himself.
- Roy Lessin
Dad, you had been a great father – I wish I had said so some 30 or more years ago!
8 comments:
They don't make fathers like they used to anymore. I read your account with envy as my dad stands on the other end of the scale.
I think Father's day was celebrated in sabah on June 14th coz when I was there, the hotel's father's day celebrations were all for that day.
I am lucky, I still have my dad around to show him that he still means a lot to me!!
Yan, I know how you must have felt towards your dad. Growing up, I used every opportunity I get to anger my father because of the way he treated my mum. And I supposed I was also influenced by her anger, and her constant angry words of him. My father is a man of few words, so all I heard was her story. When I was old enough to comprehend, I began to see and learn two sides of the story. I am able to have conversations with my dad and get to know a whole lot more about him than I used to. I began to have recollection of childhood when my father would protect me from my mum's scoldings, and how I would always ran to him for affection. I began to accord my father the respect he deserves and I am glad that I have had the chance to realise his love for me and show him how much I love him too.
I remember your dad as the towkay of Rex - overseeing the operations.
I heard that Rex was owned by some business men of No.9 Wharf Rd.
The traditional father was the symbol of authority - the head of the house, the one who worked and supported the wife and children and provided for them everything they wanted...but I think they missed out on the bonding and closeness usually seen between mother and child. I try not to...
Yan,
当你第一天掺入我们的课室时，我是很羡慕你的。已经中学生的你，还有机会让父亲送来学校！那是何等的荣耀啊！我想起我父亲，他当时应该还在胡椒园里干活呢！
不大记得你父亲当时的模样了，好像是高高大大的，对吗？看到你们走进课室来，我们其实都是很羡慕你！那个年代的我们，那里像你这样会跟父亲那么亲近的？我是很怕父亲的。平时只有有事情时才会叫母亲帮忙把话带到。父亲，在我的心目中，是很严肃的。而你，是第一个让我感觉到你是幸福的。至少你跟你父亲是一起走来课室的！
原来你父亲年轻时是这样的英俊！
It is always difficult to FATHOM and understand the Chinese father - or any father.
It depends on their educational level and their social make up.
I had a father for 16 years when he died suddenly. I only have stories of him too to live with. What I knew of him cut deep into my mind and heart. Another time for these thoughts.
It was good that he was there for you!
You father loved you so much. Sometimes father love the children in a different way but just didn't express it in words.
Post a Comment