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.