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”.  

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.

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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”.  

  

The Harder Truth

The Quiet Aftermath

 

This morning, as I made my way to work,  there was an air of stillness about me.  Everyone I met, at the bus-stop, in the bus, along the streets were quite quiet and simply trying to go about their usual day, but without uttering a word.  A nation grieved yesterday at the final farewell of its founding Prime Minister Mr Lee Kuan Yew.  So much tears were shed as the cortege journeyed through the streets of Singapore, lined with thousands of people.  Today, I feel an air of emptimess and lingering sadness.  The nation moves on, never forgetting a legacy left behind by an extraordinary leader.

 

Everyone had been discussing his passing throughout the week of national mourning.  I have got friends and colleagues who queued for hours in the sun, just to bid their final farewell in person where the body was lying in state at the Parliament house. My entire Facebook timeline was plastered with newsfeeds about the man and the legacy he had  left behind.  However, all this while, I kept quite silent because I approached the entire issue with ambivalence.  I needed time to step back and recalibrate my thoughts about the man, having lived through an era when my own family was impacted by  some of his more autocratic policies. 

 

My Father’s Past

 

I thought it was time to come clean and write this blog post about how I truly felt, without disrespect to my own father.

 

In 1978, I saw Dad handcuffed and led into our home by a team of officers from the Internal Security Department.  I was 8 years old.  And the entire episode unfolded before me like an extremely bad B-grade movie that did not seem to have a proper beginning or an ending.  The sketchy storyline went like this for an 8 year old.  Dad was involved in “political discussions” with a group of lawyers who took a pro-Communist stand.  He had to be punished for having an opinion that was not aligned to our government’s stand.  He then spent months incarcerated behind that famous big blue gate at Thomson road which was where my Dad and his bunch of friends were detained under the Internal Security Act.

 

I remembered the months that ensued were a flurry of activities, where my Mum was trying to hysterically make sense of what had happened.  I was the fire-cracker in the family and I went through a phase of childhood rebellion attempting to re-enact Guy Fawke’s Day with my marbles at any government officials that I had come across during those months.  I was trying to “protect” Mom.   I remembered Mom attempting to keep the family together, so she marched up to Dad’s boss at that time, the late Mr Khoo Teck Puat and said, “Bock Chuan had worked for you with such selfless commitment and treated you like his other father.  The most compassionate thing you can do as his boss, is to keep that job for him, and wait for his release from political detention.  Meanwhile, please continue to transfer his salary into his bank account so that his family can get by.”  Mr Khoo did just that, and I would be eternally grateful to him for that.

 

Meanwhile, Mom and I struggled by without Dad.  Mom suffered from hallucinations and I was subjected to the cruel talk amongst schoolmates who pointed their fingers at me while whispering, “Her father is in jail you know? So terrible.”  The cruelest thing that had happened for me then was having thoughtless journalists camp out at our gates to take statements from Mum and I.  

 

One day, there was a live telecast of Mr Lee Kuan Yew on TV getting a public confession from the political detainees including Dad. A journalist visited Mum and I and made us sit next to the TV.  I could not remember much of that apart from waking up the next day with a picture of myself in my pyjamas, and a quote from an 8 year old me saying, “Daddy was very naughty.”  Looking back, that was probably the beginning of my training as a Communications and PR professional.  I never trusted the media ever since, and I hated the establishment even more for turning my family’s life into a circus.  I grew up bearing that anger in my heart.

 

Growing Up

 

However, living through the last 4 decades where I saw how Singapore had evolved to what it has become today, where there are roofs over our heads, we feel safe when we walk the streets and  our children have a  good head-start in life with sound education, and the medical bills of our ageing population is heavily subsidized,  I realized that Mr Lee had to do what he had to do at that time for the good of our nation.  Sure, some of his policies were unpopular and my family was a victim of it, but as a child of Singapore having lived through the economic growth  and political stability of the 70s through to today when I see my parents enjoying the benefits of the Pioneer Generation package, I cannot help but have to admit that the man had truly done a great job.  

 

 

Doing What He Had To Do

 

Even he admitted, “I stand by my record. I did some sharp things to get things right – too harsh – but a lot was at stake. But at the end of the day, what have I got? Just a successful Singapore.”  For a nation that went from survival instincts to protecting its economic and political security, this man would do anything for it.  As he had declared, ‘Because my posture, my response has been such that nobody doubts that if you take me on, I will put on knuckle-dusters and catch you in a cul de sac...Anybody who decides to take me on needs to put on knuckle dusters. If you think you can hurt me more than I can hurt you, try.”   Sure,  some of his decisions were tough, but my Dad would have made the same decisions if he was in the shoes of Mr Lee.  Ultimately, when he gave his entire life for nation building, he was in it for the nation and its people, not himself.  He said, “"I have never been over-concerned or obsessed with opinion polls or popularity polls. I think a leader who is, is a weak leader. If you are concerned with whether your rating will go up or down, then you are not a leader. You are just catching the wind ... you will go where the wind is blowing. And that's not what I am in this for."

 

All Forgiven

 

I asked Mom if Dad had tuned to the TV channels to watch the crowd lining up to pay their last respects as the body was lying in state at Parliament House. To my surprise, she answered, “ Yes he did, and he even cried. I think after all these years, all is forgiven and forgotten and Dad has seen the good that the man had done for Singapore.”

 

That was all I needed to hear, so that it gave me that go-ahead to write this blogpost.  

 

When I saw Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong giving his eulogy to the “Papa” that he loved so dearly, I was reminded that our late founding Prime Minister, was someone else’s father too. So yes, I spent much of my younger years hating the man, but as I grew up, my emotions grew up with me.  I am still my father's daughter and I love and respect him for having boldly taken a stand no matter the risks involved, standing by what he had believed in then.  However, I am also my nation's daughter and I respect Mr Lee for also having boldly taken a stand, no matter how many had felt about him then. He too, stood by what he had believed in.

 

Without any disrespect to my father, and with every respect to the late Mr Lee Kuan Yew,  I am eternally grateful for his efforts in turning this country into a safe haven for my family and I.

 

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”.