Father's Day Real Life Touching Story

I was very touched by this very touching and heart-rendering Father's Day story real-life story... appreciate your fathers and all that they have done. Happy Father's Day to you, Dad... You're the best and love you always...

Actual link here , whole article copied and pasted from The Star Today :

Sunday June 15, 2008

Father’s last homecoming

By E.N. LIM

He was a pillar of strength, even when his world crumbled around him. In the end, he got his wish.

PA, you’re home, Pa. You’re back home! Please open your eyes, Pa.” My father had always been a strong man, physically and mentally. Even in the latter years, he was a healthy 60-year-old whose only health problem was high cholesterol.

I admired him for standing strong during his darkest moments when he went through a bitter divorce with my mother after 23 years of marriage. He stood strong when his children turned their backs on him.

Happy Father’s Day, Pa.

He used to tell me: “The society today is very much different. You have to be strong in whatever situation, otherwise people will take advantage of you.”

On March 22 this year, this once strong man finally succumbed to complications following a heart bypass.

The pain of losing him was intensified as I watched him slipping away bit by bit, day by day.

There is so much regret in me. There were so many things that I wanted to make up to him but it is too late now.

I hated him at one point of my life, and lost touch with him for years although we just lived a few kilometres apart.

I remembered vividly the hurtful words that I hurled at him. “I don’t want a father like you! I’ll never step back into this house, ever!” Then I stormed out of the house and, true to my word, did not go back for years.

Then, I became a mother. Parenthood made me question myself. What if my child did to me as I had done to my father, for whatever reason? Would I feel hurt? Would I feel that I was not appreciated?

I know I would feel lonely and empty without my child by my side. That was what I had put my father through.

How long did I want to go on like that? He was getting old. Had I not hurt him enough with my harsh words? Did I now I want to deny him the opportunity to get to know my child, his first grandchild?

My father admitted himself into a hospital for a check-up. The diagnosis was not good. But he decided to fight and, for a while, the doctors were optimistic.

But things did not turn out as planned. Like in a row of dominoes, his major organs failed one after another.

Knowing that his chances of recovery were paper thin, we had to lie to him to keep his spirit high.

Deep inside, I hoped and prayed that a miracle could happen.

I was moved to tears every time I visited him. There was my father, a man who had always been so strong but was now confined to the bed with hands and legs in straps.

He could not talk for his mouth was blocked by the bulky ventilator that had kept him breathing ever since he was wheeled out of the operating theatre.

The sight of him was heart wrenching because I had never seen the weaker side of him. He was so helpless.

All my life, I had never seen my father cry. He used to say, “It’s useless to cry, what good can you get out of it?” So I never saw him shed a tear, not even during the darkest moments in his life.

But that day, I finally did. It was his 34th day in the hospital. His condition was still critical but stable.

He saw me and eagerly waved at me. He spoke but I could not hear his voice.

“Pa, talk slowly. I’ll try to read your lips,” I told him.

He took heed and slowed down, moving his lips.

“You want to go home?”

He nodded excitedly.

“But, Pa, you can’t go home yet. We’ll go home when you are okay.”

He stared at me, the disappointment obvious on his face.

Suddenly he raised his right hand and slowly bent his forefinger up and down. I was taken aback by his gesture – the traditional sign for death.

“Pa, please don’t do that. You’re not going to die. You’ll walk out of this hospital!”

I insisted although, at heart, I was not convinced he would really pull through.

He began to frown and then I saw the unbelievable thing – I saw tears rolled down his cheeks.

I could not sleep that night. My father was like a defeated soldier who had lost his hope and dignity. He seemed to be giving up. It was a stark contrast from two weeks ago when he gave me a thumbs-up sign.

Perhaps he sensed that he was dying. It was his wish to die at home.

But I could not bring myself to make the decision. To bring him home was akin to taking his life.

On the 36th day, I received a phone call from the hospital. “Please come now. Your father’s condition is not so good,” the voice said.

As I drove there, my tears began streaming down. I kept praying to God to spare my father’s life. I rushed to the ward where my father was being cared for.

He looked very different. His eyes were wide open but motionless. My other relatives were already there.

“Pa, I am here. Look at me, I am here.” I could not contain my sadness anymore and burst into tears.

But my father did not respond. I went to a corner and cried my heart out.

Then, after regaining my composure, I walked to his bedside and, while stroking his forehead, whispered: “Pa, I’ll take you home now. Please look at me, Pa. I know you miss home, we will go home now.”

Then I saw a little miracle. His eyes, which had been motionless for so long, began to move. Then they stopped. I knew it was time to fulfil his last wish.

The siren of the ambulance could be heard from a distance. As it became louder, my heart raced faster.

Finally, it pulled up the driveway. My father, still clad in the hospital gown, was lowered down from the ambulance. His eyes were closed and he very pale and barely conscious.

I steeled myself not to cry. As he was wheeled into the house, I knew he must be happy to be home, at last.

I went near him and whispered: “ Pa, you’re home. You’re back home! Please open your eyes, Pa.”

With those words, tears rolled down from the corner of his eyes and he was gone forever.

Pa, I am sorry I hurt you, please forgive me for all the pain that I inflicted upon you. My apology came too late.

Rest in peace, Pa, and Happy Father’s Day.