For Fathers Who Aren’t In Heaven

Sad stories are life’s reality. Several weeks ago I heard one sad story. It was told by a young man, but he did not even relayed it to me. I just overheard it.

We were in a youth camporee, and I went there as a supervising adult (see previous post). There were more than 300 boys and girls from several youth clubs that came to that camping.

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evening worship at the camp

One morning in the boy’s public bathroom, I was in one of the toilet stalls minding my own business. There was no phone signal in the camp, so I cannot surf the web on my smart phone to keep me entertained. I was just watching a small spider spinning his web at one corner of the stall.

(Sorry, this is my second post in a row that discuss something about restrooms. It is not my intention to turn this blog into a toilet talk, but just bear with me, for there’s a good point I want to make here, I promise.)

Then I heard people came to the restroom. I believe there were at least two boys who came in. While brushing their teeth and perhaps washing their faces at the lavatories, they started a conversation.

After some small talk and introducing themselves to each other, like their name and what youth club or place they came from, one boy opened up with a very personal information. I was not being nosy nor eavesdropping, but as the wash basins were just a few feet from the toilet stall I was in, I heard all their conversation.

“I never knew who my father is, for I never met him,” one boy confessed.

He added that he met his real mother when he was eleven years old, but her mother never told him who his real dad is. Then he said that his mother told him that she gave him away for adoption for he was a “blue baby” when he was born. “I was blue as a Smurf,” he quipped. Her mother thought that she cannot take care of him due to his condition, so she gave him away.

As a medical doctor, I know that “blue babies” have an anomaly in their heart or in their circulation causing poorly oxygenated blood to course into their arteries giving the bluish discoloration of their skin. Unless a life saving procedure or surgery is done immediately, they will not survive. Most likely this boy underwent such surgery.

I know this boy is a survivor. Yet he might had the corrective surgery to close a hole in his heart, but the void and longing in his heart for love, especially from a father he never knew, was never filled.

Like a priest inside a confession box, except that I was in a toilet stall, I heard all this heart-breaking confession of a young man without him seeing me. Most likely he didn’t even know I was there listening to his story. He is not aware that the walls, even the very private toilet walls, have ears.

I would like to break out from the stall I was in and give this young man a big hug, but given the situation and place, that may be deemed inappropriate. Perhaps even scandalous.

The thing is I know his first name, his age, where he is from, and what club he is a member of, but I never saw his face. By the time I was done with my business, and came out of the stall, the two boys were gone.

My heart was broken just listening to that sad story. I can just imagine what heartache that boy was feeling. I just hope he finds the love he was looking for even if he has no father. Though one thing for sure, “our Father who art in heaven,” loves him and I pray that he realized that.

This made me thinking, that fathers who aren’t in heaven, me included, have such a great responsibility. We may never change the world singlehandedly, but we are given this distinctive duty and privilege to make a positive impact in the precious lives of our children. And perhaps if all fathers will do that, then the world will change.

For you fathers who may be reading this, or for you young men or even boys who will be fathers some day, I hope we all rise up to this challenge.

Have a happy and meaningful Father’s Day.

Some Assembly Required

I came home one day and saw my son in his room, busy tinkering on something. He had our tool box open on the floor. Was he working on a new project, like the time machine? Or transmogrifier gun? Or perhaps the shrink ray gizmo? No. He was just assembling his newly bought Nerf toy gun.

Everything that we purchase nowadays has some kind of assembly required. From furnitures, to gadgets, to toys. Next time, even our pets will need assembly. Pet robots, that is!

I bought my first furnitures from IKEA, 19 years ago. Like everything else from this store, it required some assembly. I am proud to say that I assembled my table and my single-size bed on my own. Without help. Yes, they may be crooked a little bit, but hey, they were functional. The table still sits in our home, and being used. The single-size bed, I gave away a long time ago, after I got married.446f87299cecabd15e216efd4bdf3f56_254920-700x

The key to these some assembly required things, is following the instructions that accompany them. It may be something like this: 1. Set up part A parallel to part B. (What is parallel again?) 2. Insert tab C to slot C. (But it does not fit!) 3. Connect fixture D to proximal end of slab D. (Which of these 5 types of screws provided would I use?) 4. Find piece E. (Find piece E! It’s missing!)

Many times though, we forego of the instructions and assemble them on our own instincts, until we learn that we are doing it wrong. I know, I have done that, as I have to disassemble something almost halfway, when it did not fit right. Of course the instructions was right there all along, I just have to read it.

Not too long ago, we bought a bookcase that needed some assembly. My son (who is 10 years old) and I worked hand-in-hand to put it together. In fact, I let him do most of the work. I even let him use my battery-powered screw driver which was a Father’s Day gift from my wife a few years back. It surely gave us some father-and-son time. Though most of it, we were arguing about the instructions.

Like many things, our relationships are some assembly required. Especially our relationship with our spouse and our children. But the instructions are not exact nor universal. They are more like recommendations rather than a command. It is up to us to figure it out and work it out. There may be trial and error at times. But the important thing is to assemble it up.

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I am fully aware that it takes time and effort to assemble anything. Whether it is a 3-piece furniture like a bench, or 300-piece contraption, like a children’s play set. And I know it will be much easier for us if it comes already assembled. But that’s not the case with our relationships. It does not come pre-fabricated nor assembled. It needs our time and effort to put it up properly.

Now what’s our next project? What will my daughter and I assemble? A grand piano?

For all the fathers out there, may we all have a meaningful Father’s Day.

(*photos from the net)

Son’s Regret

In our church this weekend, the pastor asked the congregation how many still have their fathers with them. Several hands rose up. He then told them that they are very fortunate, for there are many people in this world who have no more dads or never knew their dads. He further admonished us, as he slightly choked-up in tears, to appreciate our dads while we still can. I don’t know what our pastors’ regret, but I also did choked up in tears in my seat as I listened to him.

Do not get me wrong, my father and I had a good relationship. We spent much time together as a family. And I love my father very much. But I regret, that I have not been much expressive in letting him know that, or letting him hear my appreciation of him, while he was still living.

Men, more so than women, usually are not good in expressing their feelings. We don’t let our loved ones know our appreciation of them, at least in words.

When my father got sick, and after he underwent a second brain surgery for a deep-seated brain tumor, he never recovered to speak again. And in one of his last nights in the hospital, I stood there by his bedside, and I struggled to tell him how much I am grateful and appreciative of him. But it was a monologue…….for my father was almost comatose.

Shortly after my father died, a song by Mike and the Mechanics, titled “The Living Years” became popular. And this song up to this day, bring tears to my eyes, as it expressed my regret exactly:

I wasn’t there that morning

When my father passed away,

I didn’t get to tell him

All the things I had to say.

I think I caught his spirit

Later that same year,

I’m sure I heard his echo

In my baby’s newborn tears

I just wish I could have told him in the living years.

Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It’s too late when we die

To admit we don’t see eye to eye.

I know I have written a few articles as a tribute to my father, and I hope my life is a living tribute to his legacy. But I still wish I could have told him that I really love him, in his living years.

For all of you who still have your fathers with you, tell him how you appreciate him………. while you still can.

Happy Father’s Day.