Love Never Dies .. Reunited in Death

The first time I saw how much my dad loved my mum was when my mum passed away. For a man who, to us growing up, appeared to be a stoic, he really showed us what true love is. And when I reflect on my dad's life with my mum, I begin to realise just how much he loved her and how determined he was for her to be a part of his life.

Daddy met Mummy when she was just 15 years old. They used to meet at Tanjong Pagar railway station. Theirs was quite an unusual love affair considering that mixed marriages were so rare in those days. Although Mummy was biologically Chinese, she was raised a Sinhalese by her adoptive family. She did not speak Chinese and was a staunch Buddhist, attending Sunday school and was well versed in Pali chants.

That Daddy had married her when there was this cultural divide showed how much he loved her and was prepared to go against accepted norms. Indeed, those were the happiest days of his life. He told us that one day when he was lying on her bed, crying, a few days after her funeral, when there was a calm around the house.

When they were still courting, Daddy gave Mummy a tiny heart-shaped locket with her photo in it. Old and discoloured, my brother had kept it all these years. When Daddy was crying because he was thinking of her and how happy he had been with her, my brother took the locket out from his pocket and gave it back to Daddy. So now, wherever Daddy goes, Mummy would be with him.

When Daddy retired more than 20 years ago and bought his dream house with his retirement money, I'm sure he had planned to enjoy his retirement with Mummy. I had expected them to go on holidays, visit old friends. If dementia had not struck Mummy, I think they would be happily gallivanting and catching up with old friends.

Daddy would not leave Mummy when she became immobile and housebound. He would take care of all her needs, ensuring that she ate well, talking to her all the time. Even when she's gone, he still talked to her. In his heart, she is not gone. When he saw that our names were not inscribed in the marble slab in her niche, he felt that we were abandoning her.

On 26 April this year, four years after Mummy passed away, Daddy left us. The next day would have been their 58th wedding anniversary.

Goodbye, Daddy

On Friday, 24th April, at 8.45pm, I got the dreaded message to go home ASAP, that night if possible. This was so sudden and unexpected. Daddy had been in hospital for some tests and was discharged on Monday. On Wednesday, he had an appointment with the neurologist for his dementia. He suffered from Lewy Body dementia, something the doctor diagnosed around 2014.

And just on Thursday, he had seen the GP as he had a cough and a slight fever. That day, he was well enough to walk unaided. Just seven months ago, we had celebrated his 80th birthday and he was in good spirits and looking healthy.

I could not get a flight out that night. I spoke to Daddy and told him I was coming home soon. I arrived Singapore on Saturday on the first flight I could get and went straight to the hospital. He never awoke from his sleep and took his last breath at about 3.40am on Sunday morning.

I have been living in Hong Kong for nearly 8 years. We had decided to return home and 22 Jun was the date set. For months, I had spoken to Daddy, telling him that I would be coming home soon. But it was not soon enough.

On Saturday night, the doctor came to see Daddy and told us that he may not make it through the night. Except for my own family who were still in Hong Kong and my niece in the US, all of us stayed with him that night. We each had our private time with him.

Daddy was always very concerned for all of us. But he also missed Mummy a lot. I told him that he should let go if he wanted to, and go look for Mummy so that he could be with her. He had missed her for too long.

I had seen the signs from Mummy's passing when I spent the last night with her. Like her, Daddy also wanted to cleanse himself. A number of times that early Sunday morning, he had tried to open his eyes. He had become increasingly fidgety too, shifting his body and legs. He also struggled to say something. I don't know why, but I suggested that perhaps the nurse should check on his diapers. True enough, he had soiled himself so the nurses cleaned him up nicely.

When my two siblings went back to his room, he looked really fresh and peaceful. Everything was very calm, there wasn't any more of the laboured breathing because of his pneumonia. But his heartbeat dropped very drastically. Within 15 minutes, he took his last breath. Like Mummy, it was very peaceful when he took his last breadth.

Why, Daddy, did you not wait for me to come home for good? After all, it would have been only 2 more months.

After his funeral, I looked through Daddy's documents that he had kept in his drawer, going through all his old papers. What I discovered perhaps explained why. I found his wedding certificate. He and Mummy married on 27 April 1957. He passed away one day before their wedding anniversary.

Daddy, you are in a better place right now. After Mummy passed away, you told me and Victor that the days you courted her were your happiest days. I hope you will find her in your next life. After all, both your and Mummy's ashes are now one and we have released you both together at sea so you are now united in death, as you were in marriage.

Goodbye, Daddy. I miss you so much.