Tuesday 21 April 2015

My Journey Home With Dad


An Eulogy To My Father 


Nothing could ever describe the helplessness I felt as I watched Dad's condition rapidly deteriorate at the hospital as he succumbed to pneumonia on 17th April.  I had no choice but to accept a Do Not Resuscitate order as he was not responding to the antibiotics and his blood pressure was rapidly dropping.   

Nothing could ever describe the extreme pain and grief felt with the loss of a man who had shaped me to be who I am today.  I had no choice but to accept the duty of the eldest child, go through the motions of managing his funereal affairs while managing my Mum's and my brother's grief.  

If I could give my entire life for anything, it would be to just hold him again for one more day. For the past 5 days, I visualized him in my mind, and saw myself shaking him while screaming, "I can't do this! Why are you making me do this?"  Dad however, was not one that would subscribe to such silly, idealistic talk. He was a practical man. If he was alive now, he would have slapped me at the back of my head, dismissed my moment of over-emotional balderdash and said, "Oh, just get on with it!"

So I will listen to my Dad.  I will just get on with it.  As Dad took his last walk on his journey to his forever home, he would have wanted me to celebrate his life instead of mourning my loss. He would also have wanted me to thank  those who were part of that journey that included a lifetime of amazing experiences, friendships, joy, and sadness, which I wish to recall today.

As a daughter, I grew up with a father who had a sunshine personality beneath that erudite exterior. As you may remember, Dad was a big joker. He laughed at everything. He regaled stories of his university life where he played pranks on his friends.  He always had a joke up his sleeves. More often than not, the jokes were aimed at the establishment or particular government officials whom I may or may not  name here. Even as Dad laid at the hospital bed drawing his last breath, I could hear him say, "Kuan Yew, it's my chance to come after you now.  You see how far you can run?"

Dad was a straight shooter who never minced his words. He held on to his ideals and vision in spite of that dark period of our family's life when he was detained without trial under the Internal Security Act.   These ideals centered very much on his firm belief in free speech and thought.  Although Mum and I struggled  with Dad's absence at that time, I was very proud of him for the sacrifices he made, and the lessons he taught me about authenticity and the importance of always standing by our personal values. 

More than anything else, Dad knew where his priorities were. They were his family and close friends.  He loved to be surrounded by family and close friends and actually made that happen this week. You see, his death saw the reconciliation of family members whom we had not been in contact with for years due to past disagreements.  We made peace, the way Dad would have wanted it.

I also believed that by the grace of divine intervention and my having been inspired by his life, that led me to pen that blog post The Harder Truth, which saw the reunion of his old colleagues from the company he had worked in many years ago, the Goodwood Group as well as acquaintances who had lived and perhaps played with him as a child when he was living in his childhood neighborhood of Geylang.   We also saw the coming together of old friends from the Immaculate Heart of Mary Church where he had served as a warden, from his days at the then University of Singapore, and even from way back, his Siglap Secondary School days.  

I now came to realize that my highly practical Dad had truly made it happen for himself.  He  took his last walk on his journey to his forever home with the people who mattered most to him.  

So today I would like to not only celebrate the wonderful man that he was, but also the wonderful life that he had, only because of the family and friends that had been part of that journey.

Postscript: This post is dedicated to my hero of a father, Lawrence Ong Bock Chuan, 1 March 1941 - 17 April 2015.  On the family's behalf, I would like to extend our heartfelt gratitude to our family and friends for the well wishes, condolences, wreaths, gifts, contributions, your presence, prayers and thoughts.  I would also like to specially thank Rev. Father Edward Seah and the Ministry of Consolation at St Anne's Church and the St. Joseph Dying Aid Association for being part of my father's last journey home.


About The Writer




The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Boxing and Muay Thai and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.  






Monday 13 April 2015

Not Everything Needs To Be Competitive - The Music Run By AIA


In the past few years, I had participated at a number of competitive running events ranging from 5km races to the half marathons.  These running events often filled me with stress because of the effort I would take to train in preparation for the  events in the hope that my name would not appear in the websites, ranked amongst the last few runners crossing the finishing lines.  The most tragic assault to my ego, happened when at a half marathon, a bus came to pick the last few struggling runners attempting to navigate a never-ending highway.  I was one of these runners.   More often than not, I would complete the races with a shiny medal, a finishing t-shirt, a sun-burnt spot across my forehead and a sore knee.   

Over the weekend, the team and I participated in Singapore's inaugural Music Run by AIA.  My company was the presenting sponsor for the event, so naturally, I wanted to actively participate as a runner, and not just stand by the side to offer my royal wave after flagging off the event.  

Now, this running event was different from the others that I had participated in, organized or sponsored. It was truly unique.  The event was a non-competitive run that spanned 5km, with each km representing a music genre, rock, pop, hip hop, retro, and dance.  The playlist for each genre was put together by Spotify through a voting process that the participants were all part of.  It almost felt like each and everyone of the 9000 odd participants were actively involved in putting the event together.  





Selfies, Wefies And Groufies

My team and I were definitely ready for this.  What made us run-ready, was not only because the distance was short (thank goodness because a couple of my more sedentary team members whose idea of a run was a 3 meter dash to the snack basket at our work area) and music was involved but because along the route, there were so many photo opportunities for us to take our ubiquitious selfies.  You know Singaporeans...apart from pictures of food, we are pros when it comes to taking selfies, wefies and groufies.  Honestly, my mobile is filled with so many photographs of myself at the various running events in Singapore,  standing next to the 10km markers, 15km markers, 21 km markers and the finishing line. They were badly taken too because I only had 2 seconds to do it. Shaving off 2 seconds from my best time was a lot to ask of me in a competitive running event.  These photographs were so boring and over the years, they looked exactly the same.  

At the Music Run by AIA however, we took our time to do our selfies, wefies, and groufies against the colourful backdrops that represented the different music genre, and we even had photos taken next to roving characters impersonating artistes like Michael Jackson, Bob Marley, and I thought, one that looked like Elvis Presley before his peanut butter and jelly sandwich diet.





By the time we crossed the finishing line, one of my colleagues asked, “You mean we have come to the end of it?” 



A Nice Decent Pace


Okay.  I have to admit, I did not break a sweat.  That was because I had not even run the distance.  I walked rather briskly through the 5km and was too busy having fun with my IPhone camera along the route whilst enjoying the company of my colleague.   As she put it articulately,  “It was a nice, decent pace. Rather pleasant.”  Yes it was. It was rather pleasant.  I enjoyed the sea breeze, I enjoyed my casual chit-chat with several colleagues and old friends whom I had bumped into along the route.  I had such a good laugh watching fellow participants working their poses for their respective selfies, wefies and groufies.  I even had a rather brief mother-son bonding time with my son…and his girlfriend…..and his girlfriend’s friends because they had participated in the event too.  





Lots Of Energy In The Air

I think one of the best things about the Music Run by AIA, was the energy in the air. The DJs were key to creating that energy.  They were superb at engaging the crowd right from the start.  I overheard a participant commenting, "The party started even before the run did!"  Needless to say, many stayed right through to the end, even after the after-party ended.  I understood, they had an "After After-Party" at Tanjong Beach Club later that night.  Frankly, how many running events had I been to when I just wanted to pick up my medal, rush home to have a shower, drink 6 gallons of water, eat a truck load of pasta and then get back to bed?   At this event, many of us did not want to go home. We wanted to party through the night! The fireworks display only egged us on to beg the DJs to continue with their gig. 

So here’s what I think of the Music Run by AIA.  If I wanted to be part of a competitive race clocking in my best time for the half marathon, of course I would be at the wrong event.  This event was different however, because it reminded me to let my hair down and have fun with my team again.  It reminded me not to take everything too seriously.  It reminded me to laugh at myself more.  It reminded me to take a stroll and smell the roses from time to time.  Not everything needs to be a competition.  


I really cannot wait for the event next year as I am sure, it is going to be bigger and even better.


The photos in this post have been lifted from the AIA Singapore Facebook page











About The Writer

The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Boxing and Muay Thai and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.  

Sunday 5 April 2015

Standing By That Harder Truth


A Raging Debate

Pockets of discussion  across  social media ensued after I had posted my last blog post, The Harder Truth.  Frankly,  I did not expect it to go viral the way it did. Friends and family contacted me as they were worried about the impact that some adverse comments might have had on Mom and I.  I was not worried.  To be honest, my key target audience was those in my sons' or even my brother's generation who had never grown up during that very difficult period. I wanted to share my story with them so that they understood how different the Singapore then was and what it took to create a Singapore they are living in today.  

Obviously, the audience that was most impacted by my post,  was those who had lived in that era and understood the difficulties Mom and I went through. They were the same group of people, like myself, who had seen Singapore evolve from an environment of political and social-economical instability to a peaceful nation filled with so much opportunities. 

Hurtful Comments

When the blogpost went viral, there were debates across social media about whether my Dad was indeed a Communist and was hence a danger to society. There were debates about whether or not I should have posted a topic as volatile as this because it dug up a difficult and unpleasant period in the past, particularly when the nation was still mourning the demise of its founding Prime Minister, Mr Lee Kuan Yew. There were debates about whether I had betrayed my Dad and I was labelled a "disgrace to my father". 

Mom got increasingly distressed because of the hurtful comments but I was not hurt nor was I angry.  You see, it was a story that had to be told. It was timely for me to write that post as a means to close a chapter in our lives, heal and move on.  I grew up with that experience enough to provide a balanced perspective and I certainly would not apologize for taking that stance.

However, what I wanted to address here was the issue of HATE.  


Confronting Hate

When my Dad was  detained under the Internal Security Act for adhering to his pro-Communist views, I grew up hating the establishment for the suffering we went through as a family. I despised the way they curbed freedom of thought and I likened the authorities to "thugs" for storming into my home with an obviously distressed-looking man in handcuffs, whom my Mom had described as "An educated man who did not commit a crime."  

I grew up with this hate that had been responsible for building a hard shell around myself. I was always tough and distrustful of people, and I had such a negative view of the world at a very young age.  However, Dad would never make a stand without careful study, research and reading.  He was an erudite man that way, and would form an opinion from the knowledge and information he had accumulated over the years.

So, like Dad, I am glad that over the years, through  the information and knowledge I had gained through a great education system here in Singapore and my experiences through to my adulthood, I was able to form a balanced view of that episode in the past enough to write that last blog post. I wrote the post with ZERO HATE in my heart and only with the authentic intent to finally close that chapter behind us.

I hated the media then for their pro-government views and for orchestrating things that Dad, Mom and I had to say so that they could get the right angle with that story they wrote.  As a PR and Marketing Communications professional, I was trained to think that I had a responsibility to educate and provide information in the most responsible way that supported my community. So I understood what the reporter then had to do, and why.  Mom and I dug out the old news-clippings and handed it over to a journalist today, who wanted to do a follow-up story. We did this with ZERO HATE in our hearts, simply because that story just had to be told to educate and inform those who had never lived in that period.  Who was best to tell it, but those who were part of that legacy and had a balanced view enough to tell it.

I read every comment across every social media platform that my post was reproduced at, and I found many comments riddled with venomous hate, at what, I was not sure, because some of them who had ranted at my post,  had never lived through that time in point, and most did not know me from Adam.   One reader commented, "There was nothing to forgive, They were in the wrong.  It's people like her father who would have derailed the progress of the nation."  Another said, "Sounds like she's just drinking the Koolaid to me.  Doesn't make sense unless she's a doormat."  Yet another labelled me a "disgrace to her father".  I thought hard about these comments as I saw a dirth of fellow netizens jumping in with even more comments, this time, in defense of my stand. I was very grateful and realized that was how social media regulated itself with many having the sense to correct the erroneous views of others quite openly. I believed that only an educated Singapore, could give birth to a society of brave and intelligent people with views unbiased enough to do just that.

Most importantly, I was raised in a family where having differing views was okay, but it needed intelligent substantiation.  I was allowed to discuss politics over a dinner table, even at a very young age, since I was old enough to sit at the table, and I was encouraged to ask many questions.  My parents loved me enough to respect my views even when I was very young. I was raised in a family full of love, acceptance and understanding, and that is why I had the maturity enough to form my own non-judgemental view of life as I grew up and that enabled me to write that last blog post.  When I read the comments about my blog post that were tainted with hate, I approached these comments  and these netizens with ZERO HATE simply because I thought they might not be like me, perhaps they were not raised in a home full of love.  They did not understand me, they did not know me, and they could never be me.  And why should they be? What right have I got to expect that? 

They chose to hate and hurt, I chose to let it go. They chose to perpetuate negativity  across social media by ranting,  I chose to put a positive spin to my story instead.   If I had chosen to hate because of what had happened to us in the past, I would be a very different person today.

So I stand by the harder truth, that no matter how unbiased my views may be and no matter how authentic my intentions are, there will always be detractors out there determined to perpetuate hate.  I am not able to change their perspectives, but here is what people like Dad, Mr Lee Kuan Yew and the other netizens who had jumped in to defend me with their comments had taught me - we earn our credibility and respect only because we have the courage and the self assurance enough to confront hate.




About The Writer

The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Muay Thai and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.