Ten Years On...

 

The date, 17 January 2026, is a significant date to me as it marks exactly 10 years since dad left us. I can recall as clear as if it happened yesterday, when dad was feeling unwell on the morning of 14 January 2016.

 

Dad with his two older daughters,
Ruby [Left] and Pearly in his arm

At home, we used a traditional calendar with a giant digit printed on each page for the date which dad would tear off one page every morning. It was dad’s daily “duty” each morning, to tear off yesterday’s date to reveal the new date for that day.

 

That morning dad was not feeling well so I made an appointment for him to consult his doctor in the private hospital. As usual, mum and I accompanied him to the clinic. Looking back at the events that unfolded, we are grateful that all this happened – mercifully – while we were in the hospital.

 

Dad was lucid when we left the doctor’s clinic after his consultation. With a good rapport with this doctor, dad and the doctor often chatted about his health condition.

 

Mum with Ruby [Standing] and Pearly in
her arm, my sisters who were born in the
Kota Tinggi Hospital, Johor

When the nurse passed me dad’s prescription to collect from the pharmacy, mum and I left the clinic with dad. As usual, I walked with my arm crooked through dad’s left arm while his right hand held on to his walking stick. A short corridor linked the entrance of this clinic to the pharmacy.

 

As we walked out of the clinic, dad reminded to ask the pharmacist for the name of the medicine as he was familiar with a range of medicines. He used to dispense medicine in the course of his work as a Hospital Assistant, when he was based in the districts. This was probably the last thing dad said to me.

 

The public restrooms were located along this corridor and when we neared the Men’s Room, I asked dad if he needed to use the toilet. At age 93, dad needed to use the toilet more often so I used to ask if he needed to go. He did not reply as he probably did not need to go OR something had already happened to him.

 

Just a few more steps and I noticed that dad was not lifting his walking stick but it was being dragged along. We walked into the waiting area of the pharmacy where rows of chairs were lined up for patients to sit while waiting to collect their prescriptions.

 

Mum and dad with their three daughters in
Istana Gardens, [Left to Right]
Peggy, Pearly and Ruby

Suddenly dad collapsed in my arms and thankfully, we were close to the rows of chairs so he had a soft landing, awkwardly on the chairs – instead of on the floor – and because I could not hold on to dad’s full weight, a man who was nearby, rushed forward to help me lift dad onto a chair.

 

We had just come from the doctor’s clinic after a consultation so I asked to please call the doctor over and he responded swiftly. Dad was moved to the Emergency Room where the doctor examined him. I remember the doctor expressed surprise and regret as he told us that dad has suffered an acute stroke which caused him to cease all mobility including his ability to speak.

 

It was my task to share this information with our mother, who was anxiously waiting for the doctor’s comments. Then for me to inform my siblings. And to make a decision on what to do next.

 

Dad with his three daughters
[Left to Right] Ruby, Pearly and Peggy

In those difficult moments, I recalled the many conversations I had with dad, among them our discussions about his health condition.

 

I was the primary carer for both my parents, keeping their doctor’s appointments, both in the private hospital and at the Government clinics, accompanying them to these appointments as well as collecting their regular prescriptions.

 

Dad had a career with the Health Department with postings to districts like the Kota Tinggi Hospital, Health Dispensary in Gelang Patah and Health Sub-Centre in Masai.

 

Both our parents were based in Kota Tinggi for the first few years after they were married and my older sisters were born there. My brother and I were born in Johor Bahru, after they were transferred back here.

 

Dad with his daughters

After dad retired from Government service, he found employment with the private sector, dispensing medicine and treating patients who were employees of an oil palm plantation.

 

When he finally retired from work, he was still active in sports, playing table-tennis and pétanque with fellow seniors at the Senior Citizens Club.

 

He was then 80 over years old and used to tell me that he could play table-tennis with such agility that he managed to beat opponents who were half his age. He would also drive himself to the Senior Citizens Club.

 

I was aware of his advanced age and often reminded him to stay alert on the road, warning him of the reckless drivers out there. No, I did not say that his responses may be not as sharp and quick as before but blamed it on other irresponsible drivers.

 

Playing dress-up in mum's old cheong sam;
[Left to Right] Ruby, Kenneth,
Pearly and Peggy

While I was concerned for his safety on the road, I did say that once he turned 90 years old, I will not renew his driving license. But to preserve his pride and dignity, I did not stop him from driving but suggested that he should decide when he would like to stop driving.

 

Dad was the one who gave me all the driving tips a young driver needed to know when I first got my driving license. In those days of manual cars, there were skills involved in balancing the clutch and accelerator, among other wisdoms which automatic car drivers know nothing of.

 

But even before learning to drive, dad taught me how to swim and to tread water, a valuable skill for survival in water of any depth. This significant skill has given me confidence to deal with bodies of water without any fear.

 

When our parents were based in Masai for work, my siblings and I lived with our grandparents to go to school more conveniently in Johor Bahru. [At that time, there were no Secondary schools in Masai.]

 

Dad with his children, 
at Kampung Pasir Gudang, Johor

During the school term holidays, we stayed with our parents and had fun going swimming with dad at the sandy beach in Kampung Pasir Gudang, before it was developed into Johor Port. This was where dad taught us the finer points in swimming – in salt water – so that we can apply the skills in any body of water.

 

Back then, mum and dad would arrange for family holidays and we had road trips to destinations like Ipoh and Cameron Highlands, by the old roads [because there were no highways yet!] These were memorable trips because I was the one who suffered from motion sickness and did not enjoy being car-sick on those long and winding roads.

 

While on these road trips, dad would be driving with mum seated in the front passenger seat while his three daughters were on the back seat, me seated in between my eldest and second sisters. To keep us awake (there was no car radio for music!) dad would share some riddles and made us guess the answers.

 

Dad and his family visiting his
brother's family in Ipoh

A small plastic bucket (the type used to play sand and make sandcastles) would be placed, stuck in between the two front car seats, at a level just below my face. This was to catch any sudden eruptions emitting from my churning stomach, caused by motion sickness.

 

I distinctly remembered my conversations with dad and he said that in the event “something happened” to him, to send him to the Government hospital.

 

Dad had a humble beginning, growing up in a Home for children who were orphaned or from destitute families, under the care of Mr & Mrs George Wilson, missionaries from New Zealand.

 

All he remembered was that his father sent him to Ms Sarah Shirtliff (a pioneer of Bukit Bintang Girls School) in Kuala Lumpur and later, she placed him in the care of Mr & Mrs Wilson (nee Elizabeth Dron) at Elim Gospel Hall, Ipoh.

 

Dad riding his BSA motorcycle with 
his brother as pillion

Dad used to tell us about how he and his brother – growing boys who often felt hungry at night – probably because there was not much food to share among them, and how they would creep into the kitchen in search of food. They would scrape out the charred rice from the bottom of the pot and when mixed with some soya sauce, it tasted so good.

 

Dad was in healthcare so he was aware about the healthcare costs in private hospitals and did not want us to spend much money on him in case he needed long-term care. So he used to remind us not to admit him into private hospitals as it would be costly.

 

While dad did consult doctors in a private hospital for his ailments that required specialists’ advice, he loathed to be admitted there. And a decision was made to transfer dad from the private hospital to the Government hospital. Initially, dad was placed in the Men’s ward – even though he was entitled to the First Class ward – because he needed to be closely monitored due to his condition.

 

A family photo taken at
grandfather's house during
Chinese New Year

Another decision was for my eldest sister to take mum home while I stayed with dad. [Love you always, daddy] By this time, my brother and his wife who were based in Kuala Lumpur, had been informed and they were making their way back to Johor Bahru.

 

The next day, my brother and his wife took on the night duty in the hospital where dad was transferred to the First Class ward. In the afternoon of 17 January 2016, dad passed on peacefully, surrounded by family and friends. [Till we meet again, daddy]

 

Ten full years have passed since dad left us. A great deal has happened since 2016 including the global pandemic and lockdown years. Dad would be pleased to know that we are taking good care of mum. While she has grown frail, she still has her own mobility by using a walker frame, and a good appetite to eat soft or blended food.

 

Dad would also be pleased to know that the My Johor Stories book, published in 2017 as a tribute to his memory, went to the Number One spot in the MPH Non-Fiction Bestsellers List and was counted among the Best of MPH in 2017.

 

Mum and dad while they were based in 
Masai for work with the Health Sub-Centre

This was followed by its sequel in 2018 and the final instalment – after the global pandemic years – that completed the trilogy of My Johor Stories in 2022.

 

He would also be happy to know that I have helped others to publish their own books. In 2023, I had the privilege to help the Tan family publish a book for distribution among their family members in memory of their father/grandfather.

 

Then in 2024, I was part of the team who compiled the material and photographs to publish a book that documented the history of our church in Johor Bahru. The story on Johor Bahru Gospel Chapel, where dad held the post of Treasurer for many years, was published in, Milestones on our Journey of Faith, in 2025.

 

Mum and dad together in
December 2010

Our alma mater, the Convent of the Holy Infant Jesus in Johor Bahru, celebrated her 100-Year Anniversary since its founding in 1925 and I was part of the team who worked on a book project to commemorate this significant occasion in 2025.

This Souvenir book with a tagline, Not just education, but a proud legacy, that comprised personal recollections by alumni among other interesting memories, was sold to raise funds for maintenance projects in the school building.

 

It had indeed, been an eventful past 10 years, adjusting to dad’s absence, moving to another house and adapting to a new environment with mum, who is aging day-by-day.

 

I’m ever grateful for family support which enabled me to focus on my book projects and gave me the freedom to continue to connect people through My Johor Stories.

 

As 2025 draws to a close, January 2026 is a good time to press the pause button and take a break to seek fresh inspiration for the new year and beyond.