My Father Passed Away

In the morning of May 10, while in Hong Kong, I wrote about my father’s faith in the face of serious illness.    Three days prior to that I was with him in Toronto, speaking with him, praying with him, showing him the bird I made for him out of a piece of a palm leaf, writing him a letter using traditional Chinese ink brush.   

Half a day after the post, standing near Beiyuanmen (北院門) on Xihuamen Street (西華門大街) in Xian 西安, I received a text message from my sister telling me that my father passed away.  I was in shock.  I couldn’t really process it.  We had been expecting him to pass away in the next few months due to his illness.  But how could be passed away so soon, so suddenly?  I was in a daze.  I am not so sure how I got back to the hotel.  

My sister said he passed away in early morning, Toronto time, apparently while he was asleep.  When my sister and mother rushed over to the hospital, it seemed as if he was peacefully asleep.  

My father taught me how to make pea shooters out of a piece of bamboo, when I was small.  I have been making them ever since, whenever I have a chance.  They are relatively easy to make, costs almost nothing, environmentally friendly, and so much fun.  

I teach anyone who cares to learn.  I also try to use those skills to make other things.  

My wife designed a special 3-tier bunkbed for our 3 daughters.  My father made 3 little bunkbeds as toys, one for each of the girls.  The girls place the little bunkbeds on their real beds next to their pillows, and promptly fill them with their stuff dinosaurs and other animals. 

We once lived in a lovely house in Ottawa, and we had so much fond memories associated with it.  After we sold the house, my father made a very detailed model of it,  which looked exactly like our favourite house, down to the shape of the roof, the doors, windows, the garage, the chimney, …, out of scrap pieces of wood.   

Later he made another one, with doors that open and a roof that can be removed.  It was fitted with gutters, made out of the skeletal frames from an old umbrella.  

My father used to cut and polish cow horns, discarded by slaughter houses, to turn them into vases for flower.  He cut and fitted pieces of horns to turn them into sharks, complete with dorsal fins, caudal fins, pectoral fins, pelvic fins, …, and bulging eyes.  He used the horns to make sail boats with one mast, two masts, and three masts - with 10+ sails, pulleys, ropes, and other fittings.  

These are just some of the many things he made and did for people.  

He gave them all away, to relatives, friends, as gifts, to return favours, …  He kept little for himself.  When he passed away, he had few material possessions.  Yet he is so rich, in  memories, in relationships, in friendship, in admirers, in riches stored in heaven.    

Such is my father.  

Father’s Faith

My father has been diagnosed to have lung cancer.  He is 89 years old.  It is not too surprising for him to have health issues.  In fact, he has already outlived all his family members as far as I know.  He will probably pass away in the not-too-distant future.  It is very hard to talk about this.  I also struggle as to whether it is appropriate to share something so private.  On the other hand, in the face of his struggles with cancer, most other matters pale in comparison.  And I find it difficult to write about anything else.  

He has led a very full life, and he continues to impress all the people who gets to know him, even when he is in the hospital.   He has decided that he is ready to leave this life and go to be with God.  He does not want to have his cancer treated.  He does not ask God why he has cancer.   He has faith that he is going to heaven and  heaven is a good place, so he is not afraid.  He openly and cheerfully discusses with us how he would like us to take care of his remains when he passes away.  The pain is getting stronger, particularly when he coughs, and he needs strong painkillers to manage the pain.  But once the pain is under control he is cheerful again.   His only question is why God does not take him away right-away. 

He has always been a people person.  He is easily the most popular elder among our extended family and relatives.  He is so good in his work and so kind to his workmates, subordinates and superiors that people go out of their way to help him when he is in need.  Since his retirement, he spends most of his time volunteering at church, nursing homes, etc., that the Ontario government gave him multiple awards (more than 10 at last count).   

Now his strong faith in the face of cancer is impressing everyone around him.  When I accompany my mother and sister to his church, so many people come up to ask about him continuously.  He seems to know everyone.  And everyone seems to know him.  He has touched a lot of people’s lives.  I told my father perhaps this is part of the reason why God is keeping him here for a little longer yet.  

I am very proud of my father.  I made him a bird, out of a piece of a branch from a palm tree, that can balance on its beak.  He seems to like it.  My father is very good with his hands.  And I think he appreciates things like that.