YOU ARE NEVER FORGOTTEN

 

By Stephen Ng

Father,

Since you went home to be with the Lord on October 10, 1998, the last ten years have indeed passed so quickly.

 

As I sit back to reflect the final three weeks that I spent caring for you, I remember how much you had to suffer, especially in the final week before you passed on. Your death has added one more count to the statistics of patients dying from lung cancer.

 

Although you were reluctant to go for a medical check-up, as family members, we were very concerned about your health when we saw that your cough had prolonged for over a month. Being a heavy smoker and a drinker yourself, our biggest fear was lung cancer.

 

It hit us hard the moment Dr. Yap Boon Han of Tung Shin Hospital gave his diagnosis after reading the CAT scan. “Your father has lung cancer. It is already in the advanced stage,” he told me and Mother. “He is unlikely to live for more than six months.”

 

To me, it was a painful reality that I was going to lose you forever. All I had in mind was to share with you what I had always wanted you to know – that God loves you, regardless of who you are or what you have done.

 

I remember those last words that touched your wife of 43 years. For the first time, you told her that you loved her. After counting “One, Two, Three, Four” (which I believe, referring to your four children), your last words still ring in my ears: “You all must love Jesus.”

 

I understood the words that you uttered, because barely two weeks ago on that Sunday morning of Sept 27, in the living room, you had personally invited Jesus as your personal Saviour. I was assured now, that whatever happened to you, I would still see you in Heaven.

 

Fast forward to 2008 … Although I can count the number of times that I have visited your cemetery with the fingers of my hand, childhood memories of you still linger on. To me, honouring your father and mother is best shown when they are still alive.

 

As a toddler, I remember sitting on your laps, pretending to be the driver as you allowed me to turn the steering wheel. It was fun. Those were the good times. I also remember how as a teenager, we quarrelled one day, and you flung my Bible out of the house. Yet, deep down in my heart, I respected you as my father; and I am happy that I took time to look after you at a time when you most needed me.

 

Now, I am a father myself. I am learning what it is to be a father to my two-month old son. I pray that Shaun will grow up to be a healthy young man, who knows how to honour his father – and his grandfather as well. Someday, I hope he will get to read the book I have written about you, so that the memory of you will be preserved for many generations to come.

 

(This writer has published a book, “God Loved My Father” back in 1999 after his father’s death. The content of the book is currently available at www.godlovedmyfather.blogspot.com.)