9th August.

8:46pm.

Pak Pak has gone to be with you.

Last Friday when my ship docked, I went to be with Pak Pak. He was lying in an all too familiar hospital bed in the middle room of the house I grew up in. Frail and thin. Blue sheets. The sound of the beeping machine. Tubes. Emergency button. Pillows. 

I sat beside him and held his hand. I thanked him for taking care of me when I was little. He always bought batteries for me to play on the yellow Gameboy. He made sure I was never out of batteries. 

I looked at the photographs displayed around in the house and travelled back through time. The white gate remained unchanged. I was in two of the photographs. I remember one very much. Yellow Kiki Lala shirt sitting in between Pak Pak and Ah Ma. We were all so young. Full with life. Full with years. Full with possibilities. Full with dreams. Full with time. But as we count on, we count down too don't we? Each day that passes is a step upwards in the mountain of life as our candle burns on downwards.

We can't escape the slow decay of time can we?

Daddy, I remember once how strong you were. You helped me to lift up a heavy prop into the Naza. I stood behind you admiring the strength you displayed. 

Then I stood beside you, lifting you while you climbed the stairs up to your room. 

I fell asleep downstairs once. Then I was awakened by the motion of you lifting me up and carrying me to my room. I was a young child, weak and vulnerable. You were my father, strong and mighty. 

Years later me and Koko would carry you from the same living room into the car and rushing you to the hospital. 

Pak Pak was surrounded by his whole family tonight. He breathed his last in his home where he raised all his children. Just like you did. We were all beside you as we saw you taking in your last few breaths. 

You are all together now. You, Pak Pak, Ku Ma, Ku Cheong, and your other siblings I didn't get to meet. You are with your mother now. 

Last Friday before I left Pak Pak's house, I told him I had to go back to the ship. With the little strength he had, his left hand gripped my hand and said to me in Chinese, "Bao hu zhe ji." Take care of yourself, he said.

Those were the last words I heard from him.

Watch over us, Daddy. 

You live on, up there, everywhere, and within us.