How I Accompanied My Dad Until His Last Breath (Part 3 of 3) - Funeral

On this very day, 2 years ago, his soul left his body for another world unknown to us.

About 2 months after his death, I wrote 2 parts of how I accompanied my father until his last breath. To, you know, occasionally read back the painful memories of him dying and my family members went through the sickening ordeal together.

Now, 2 years later, I finished part 3 - his funeral. It will be the most logical piece compared to the first 2. Well, in Singapore, funerals are like as though we are hosting and executing an event per se.

You can read PART 1 here and PART 2 here, if you want.

Let's twirl back to the time when his heart stopped beating. My 2 sisters and I were by his deathbed together with our boyfriends.

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The machine continued, "diiiiiiiiiiii..." 

LIKE FUCK, I KNOW HE'S DEAD, SHUT IT.

We continued sobbing. By then, I sort of almost trying to gather my last ounce of strength to start being logical. I could not let too much of my emotions breaking me down.

The nurses started coming into the ICU, telling us that we have to leave. They needed to send the body to "wash" and do the necessary.

I then recalled that a nurse let me sign some forms that mentioned that his "spare parts" will be harvested. In case you don't know, spare parts like, Liver, Lungs and whatever. To donate to others who needed it. 

Guys, trust me. When you're the next-of-kin to someone dying in hospital, you cannot believe how many stupid forms they want you to sign. I know I shouldn't sign blindly, so I tried my very best to listen and tried to understand the doctor's and nurses' blabbering "you have to sign this form, because blablabla."

People, my dad is dying and you're shoving forms in front of my face. Now I know I probably could not be the President of Singapore. "People are dying and you want me to sign a form to start a war? Cannot la. More people will die leh." Haha...

Anyway, we were kindly chased out. They started unplugging wires off my dad's body. Then wheeled his bed to some lift and left us standing there like fools - not sure what to do next. They were like, "You can go downstairs and wait. The downstairs, turn left turn right." Like fuck, how the fuck are we supposed to remember.

Then a nurse shoved me a form to sign again. By then, I was like, fuck it. Want my fucking autograph again? Fine.

She handed me a brochure. The brochure stated the list of funeral companies to contact. "If you don't have any companies to contact, you can contact any one from the list here."

I tossed the brochure away. My then-boyfriend (now my husband, haha), made the necessary calls to his dad to contact the monk from the temple, then the monk from that temple asked a guy to contact us blablabla. I was confused. In the end, a guy called my phone, he said he is on the way to CGH (You ever heard of people saying CGH is Confirm Go Hell and SGH is Sure Go Hell?) to collect the body to send for washing (means, draining the blood out to prepare for funeral).

Then the funeral director guy called me. His name is Ah Kheng. Quite a young fella. His dad own a funeral services company and he is helping in his dad's business. So, the monk told him to help with my dad's funeral, not to charge too expensive, as we are all 3 young girls. That's really kind of them.

So, they got it. A competitive priced funeral for us. Do you know that a typical Chinese funeral can be above $10k to $18k just for a 3 or 4 days event? My God. Well, of course, depending on what you want for the funeral.

So all's done. We went downstairs at some loading and unloading bay at the lift. By the time, it is already 11pm or so. 

The funeral driver arrived. Some friendly uncle. Then the CGH staff came down with my dad's body, wrapped up like a mummy on a metal trolley (not a bed anymore) as though selling meat in the wet market. 

They kinda told us to turn around. I'm known to be a curious cat. So, I love to sneak a peek or two. They carried the limp body into the van and closed the door.

"Okay, we will wash the body and will bring to it to the funeral tomorrow." 

So, we went home to rest.

I couldn't rest. Next thing I knew, I got up at 9am, went to Town Council to book the multi-purpose hall for the funeral. We had to pay like $100-$200, as we're going to use the electricity.

Then, went back to rest. Ah Kheng was really good. He gave me lots of updates and asked as little questions as possible. 

"Do you want a fully closed coffin or half-opened coffin?" - I chose half-open. He did not push anymore questions about the coffin like what kind of wood quality, or what kind of material or design. Thank God.

"Do you want food to be catered on which day?"

"Do you need bus transport to Mandai?"

"What do you want to be written on his tombstone?" - He got the tombstone company uncle to advise me on it.

Then he advised me to bring my dad's favourite clothes, prepare a photo of my dad for the printer guy to print. He didn't ask me to choose the funeral decoration, or anything. That's good. 

The monk who helped us for the funeral to chant and pray called my sisters and I, 三朵花 (3 stalks of roses). Haha.

We don't have any brothers, so it is down to me, the eldest, to do most of the things. 

So we were told that my dad's body arrived. They asked us to turn around while they carry the body in.

If you're superstitious, you cannot look at the dead body because it's no good, or bad luck or anything. But, by logical reasons, they don't want you to look at how they carry the body of your loved one. It may be too heartbreaking. Anyway, I still snuck a peek. They laid my dad's body on the ground and dressed him up.

After some time, the coffin is ready, the decor is ready, the papers to burn, the joss stick, some snacks and drinks are all set up. The tents, tables and chairs. All done.

It's like an event, waiting for guests to arrive. To make sure all is in order and I am the event manager. Lol, wtf.

So, friends and relatives started streaming in, some of them were kind to help out. Some just scorned at my poor mother like it is her fucking fault for having to divorce my dad. Jesus Christ.

I told my family to invite all of their friends too. We alone could not have been able to afford the funeral alone. I know, it's sick. It's sick to think about money even at funerals. But, really. Funerals are a family affair and family financial matters. Everyone in the family have to help to fork out money for the funeral. I've seen people quarrelling over money during and after funerals. Stories of siblings "eat up all of the funeral money" and "cheated our money" and all.

I don't fucking want this shit at my dad's funeral. So, my second sister and I were in-charge of our dad's funeral end-to-end. Fortunately, my dad's funeral expenditure can be post-paid. We don't need to pay any money to Ah Kheng before or during the funeral. 

Flowers and condolences started streaming in. Even the Pasir Ris-Punggol Town Council came in and put up the condolences blanket, like really huge! Occupied a few pillars. Wow!!!

One thing that got on our nerves is that we saw some people snapping photo of my dad in his coffin. WTF. Who does that? OMG?

Anyway, friends started coming in. They just asked how he passed away. It's the usual, "Got tipsy, rode his electric scooter and hit his head on the wall. Had internal bleeding in his brain."

After that, they didn't ask much and just chit chat like as per normal. Funny thing was, one of my ex-boyfriend sent me a condolence message. Well, because his brother is my youngest sister's friend. Lol. And another of my ex-boyfriend personally came down to the funeral. At times like this, I am surprised how people I used to know turned out to be very kind like this. Life is short. Sometimes it frees your heart to just forgive and forget. BUT, I never forget. Haha!

My sister's friends filled up like half of the place. She has crazy-truckload of friends, really. Haha. 

My husband and his family has been the kindest. Helping us out during times like this, I felt really touched. 

My friends who came down, I felt happy seeing them. 

Even MP Teo Ser Luck came for my dad's funeral one fine afternoon. He was like, "Oh! You ah!" 

Well, I always went to the meet-the-people session to appeal for my mum to get another HDB housing. And even once accompanied my friend to meet Mr. Teo to appeal about something else too. Anyway, the MP sometimes will go visit funerals in their town. To PR a bit, I guess. I once saw Mr Teo visited someone's funeral while I was walking my dog, Marley. He was like, "Wah! Your dog ah!" Then laughed laughed.

You see, even the MP did not say my dog is not HDB approved lor! Haha! 

We had the funeral donations by friends and family in a black waist pouch, like aunty selling beer in coffee shop. We just wanted to make sure the money is all accounted for. No "stealing" or "misplacing". I've heard stories of some people, stole the funeral donations when no one is watching. Terrible, eh.

Then, the last night, we had to burn the big big paper house and the paper money for my dad. The funeral people told us 3 girls to shout out loud, "DAD, BURN THIS THIS THIS FOR YOU, REST IN PEACE."

We couldn't. We just raised our voice a bit. Because they told us to shout in Mandarin. But we don't freaking speak Mandarin to our dad at all. That's just so weird.

The guy was like, "SHOUT LOUDER, HE HAVE TO HEAR YOU!"

Like, what? So we raised our voice a little more. We're Catholics. So, we don't know much about this. We're just like little sad puppies, doing what we're told.

My other cousins helped with the shouting and all. Some of our relatives cried. The entire 3 days, I did not shed a single tear. To me, his soul has gone to a better place. What we're dealing now is his empty shell. 

Then came the day when we had to wake up early in the morning to do some prayers for the body to send to Mandai to cremate. 

Before that, Ah Kheng asked us whether do we want the ashes to be placed in Mandai (government-owned, cheaper) or a temple (privately-owned, a bit expensive). Since we do not have brothers, we just chose Mandai. It's like a one-time fee of $500+. For having the ashes in the temple, I think it's $1000+ per year.

And, we have to choose where we want to place my dad's wooden tablet to allow his spirit rest for the first 49 or 69 or 100 days. I don't know, I forgotten. And it must be a place where you have to offer food and burn the incense everyday. We do not have a place and we do not know of any temples. So, the monk was like, "Ok, then place it at my Shifu's temple at Geylang there, can?"

I guess that's fine. We had to pay like $300 or $600+ for the entire time. And they will make sure everyday they will burn the incense, offer food and drinks and fruits.

So, once we done the prayers, it is time for us to walk behind the van to send the coffin off to Mandai. We just needed to walk a few distance, like a street down. We had to place our hand on the van while the van drove like a tortoise.

Being the eldest, a funeral uncle asked me to offer fruits to TU DI KONG (the Earth God or something), for the coffin to cross a junction or a walkway. 

Catholics aren't supposed to be praying to other Gods. But, at that point of time, I could not care to debate. I just do what is needed to be done. I couldn't tell the uncle, "No, I cannot." I cannot be difficult at times like this. If me saying some words to TU DI KONG will help my dad's soul to cross safely, then let it be. I don't want religion to get in the way of my dad's funeral. 

Then, being the eldest, I needed to get the incense holder and sit in front of the van (carrying my dad's coffin) ALONE with the driver.

Once we passed any bridge, the uncle will prompt me, "Come, tell your dad to cross the bridge". So, I just repeated that in Mandarin. Like a little girl all over again. I don't understand but I just do it. As long as my dad "crossed" safely, then it's fine.

The driver said that Ah Kheng is very good. Ah Kheng gave my dad a reasonable coffin and did not push me to get the more expensive one. Some coffins are super expensive, I don't understand why is there a need to get such expensive coffins, when in the end, we're going to have it burnt.

Once we reached Mandai, we were ushered into a small auditorium, with my dad's coffin in front. So, we took our seats. Then, we were made to say some chants and walked around the coffin and all. Suddenly, there were some unknown faces. Maybe they were just strangers hanging around.

After that, they pushed the coffin away and we were ushered to another room - the viewing room.

There's space for people to stand to look out to the glass window where you can see some metal tracks leading into little doors.

So, we waited for the coffin to be on the track. Once the coffin appeared on the track and the track began to move the coffin into the little door, the guy was telling my sisters and I to shout again. My God.

"You all have to shout and tell him to rest in peace!" 

"Tell him which temple to go to? Which temple?"

I was like, "I don't know the name of the temple. A temple in Geylang?"

The guy, "Okay, tell him to go to a temple in geylang!"

HAHAHA, omg. 

"Shout louder!"

So, we 3 girls raising our voice like fools and went, "Erm, rest in peace. Go to the temple in Geylang."

"Louder!"

Give me a break. Some relatives shouted as well.

Then the little door slide open and the coffin went in. We heard a gush of fire. Then the door closed, and the cremating began. 

Some relatives cried. My sisters and I had no more tears to cry. We were just stoned.

After that, we were ushered out to the waiting area. We had to come back the next day to collect the ashes.

So, they gave us pails of water with flowers, to wash our hands and face. To cleanse away the "spiritual dirt" or whatever.

After that, the relatives went their separate ways. We went back to our house to make the final payment to Ah Kheng. He billed us reasonably, based on what we used and all. We're pleased.

The multi-purpose hall was now pretty much empty. The tents were gone. The lightings were gone. Tables and chairs all packed up.

Then, the Pasir Ris-Punggol Town Council guy came and was like, "Hello, we taking back our blanket ah, thanks ah."

HAHAHA!

They re-use the blanket for all funerals in their town! Hilarious.

Then, the bangla cleaner say we have to clear away the big big left over flower caskets in the multi-purpose hall, if not they will charge us money. 

So, we manually do the dirty work and cleared the hall as much as we can. It was the first time, I sweep the multi-purpose hall! Haha!

The next day, we had to go back to Mandai to collect the ashes. But before that, we had to go to the counter, passed them the death certificate, make the payment and they told us which unit my dad's tombstone unit will be. 

The tombstone uncle was very kind and friendly. He didn't try to upsell us any tombstone material or anything. Just a simple and nice one. 

We had to put in some coins in the ashes and we have to take a piece of my dad's bone to put into the urn, as a form of tradition procedure to put him to rest.

You know, they say human ashes - I thought they would be those powder-type of ashes. But, it's not. It's just broken down white coloured bones. It's more like gravel with some bigger piece of white bones. Some of the bones, have a slight pink colour on it. So weird to see my dad, my strong and active father, being degraded and burnt down to pieces of bones like that, to fit into a small urn.

Then the tombstone uncle thanked us and he went to settle the rest. 

Then I had to take the wooden tablet with the incense, someone sheltered me with an umbrella, then we walked to my dad's tombstone unit. We got lost in Mandai. No one told us where to go! When we found the block, the monk was there to say some chanting and prayers. We had to pay the monk by giving him red packet. It depends on the monk how much they want to charge us.

He said, out of goodwill, he charge us just $100+. Usually market price is like $300+. I don't know of the market price though. Anyway, he is those straight forward monk, pretty amusing at times. He will be annoyed if nearby, people are making so much noise while he is doing his chanting. 

After that, we had to take the tablet and incense to the temple at Geylang. Haha! The mysterious temple at Geylang. My second sister was by then giddy by inhaling all the smoke. Haha! 

Then, another round of prayers and chanting at the temple. Then, I made the payment to the temple aunty. It is just a small temple in one small terrace house with 2 huge dogs!

The dogs were friendly!

All's done! So, periodically, we had to go back to the temple to visit my dad. After the 49 days, we had to take the soul back to Mandai. A lot of procedures, right? So, the monk chant and pray again. He keep calling us 三朵花. Haha.

During this 49 days, I get to see the true colours of various people. Some relative called me to lecture me about my dad. Wtf? Another person called me to return her $6,000 which my dad owed her. OMG? And I had to settle my dad's legal matters. Go to find lawyers, find HDB and all - because my dad had a commercial shop and all. Go to CPF, go to the Bank, cancel his account. Walau. Seriously. The amount of work to do after someone passed away is A LOT.

I had to have a Letter of Administration from the court. For me to legally handle my dad's legal matters on his behalf.

The lawyer wanted to charge me $3k to $5k to get the LOA done for me. I was like, NO FUCKING WAY. So, being the persistent and stubborn me, I did all that I could. Researched and researched. Went to Crimson Logic's office and ask and ask. Drafted all the stupid letters and documents to present to them, apply some shit at the court. After a couple of weeks, I finally went to the court and got my LOA all by myself and in total I only spent like $500.

If I am rich enough, I would have gotten a lawyer to help me with it. But, oh well. And we had to get the lawyer to sign something like everything is to my name and all. She was like looking at my both sisters and said, "Do you know you're allowing your sister to get everything under her name? You guys won't get anything. Are you okay with that?"

I know the lawyer was just doing her job. Like as though my dad have anything left for us. Nothing. We're not expecting anything from our dad at all.

He did not believe in insurance, so he did not have any insurance. So, $0.

So, now, do you think insurance is important to at least help your loved ones a bit after you passed on? But, it's okay. We are not greedy for any money. We just wanted to get back to our own lives and let us grieve and mourn and move forward in life.

Worse thing is, HDB confiscated our unit because we could not find a buyer to buy over the unit after 1 year. In Singapore, once you're divorced, if you don't have any money to buy over your partner's share for the HDB unit, you have to sell your HDB flat.

So, I appealed for my mother to get another HDB unit and HDB loan. After 3 rounds of appeals, they finally allow my mum to choose a new BTO unit just across the street. 

But, before we can get that unit, we have to vacant the current HDB unit for 3 months.

I was like, "Where are we going to stay, then?"

HDB was like, "Go and rent a place outside."

Siao! We don't have much money to rent a 3-room unit elsewhere. So I appealed again to let us have the HDB rental.

The appeal was successful and they say we have to share a 3-room unit with another family.

WTF.

We appealed again, like come on! We're all female in the household. What if we got RAPED or something! Walau. Sometimes the government don't give a shit about all these.

So, our appeal went through, and we managed to get a temporary rental 3-bedroom unit for ourselves for only $400++ per month!

I've learnt that we have to be persistent in appealing to our government. Patience and persistence is much needed.

So, we shifted house here and there. Our dog and cat are the most kelian. Don't know what's going on. Just followed us around. I hope they don't feel like nomads. Haha.

Well, I think that's it. That's the worse part of my life in my twenties. All poured out here. I am not ashamed of my sufferings. I am proud that my family and I went through all these with patience and strong support. My sisters and my mother trusted me to settle the legal matters. Like you know, some ugly human beings will want to cheat their own family to get money from their deceased parent? That's fucking sinful. I don't understand how can anyone do this to their family.

We're all happy and at peace now. Yes, I miss my dad. I know he is at peace. Thanks be to God.

Perhaps I'll share some scarily coincidental dreams and supernatural things my family and I experienced after our dad passed away. I'll leave it to next time - if I've the mood.

All Black, all white

The concept of having almost everything relating to the human life to put it down in black and white is extremely beneficial to the government, companies, businesses - the party who needs to govern other fellow humans.

Why go through the hassle to bother the handful of those who does not conform to the society which the authorities set out to construct and shape? Let them fall through the gap - it is easier this way.

It is easier to conveniently decide that those irksome troublemakers did not comply with the so called "black-&-white". Let them be punished! They do not justify the need for the authorities to utilize additional resources to "find out what makes them different" or "what is really going on".

More resources = more expenditures. We all know that. We grow up learning this concept.

Of course, the authorities know how to cover up their ass. "We care for our people" ideals will be somewhere within their black-&-white. Of course that is a must have. Why give themselves loop holes to risk their governing goals? Reputations are at stake here, everyone is watching with tongues ready to wag at any instant.

The grim peasants are brainwashed to believe that they did not comply with the authorities' rules and regulations. "This is fair to everyone".

What makes the bodies of unfortunate think that they deserve 100% support from the authorities? They broke some sort of algorithms within the black-&-white and obviously are not entitled to think that they deserve a full second chance. Yes, sure. Trickles of pseudo help will be rendered. Why not? "We care for our people", remember?

Other than that, they will be ostracized to their usual social isolation. This is life. "Shit happens", some would nonchalantly comment.

That being said, people are not copy and paste products of the society. Oh yes, the government, companies and people who holds certain authority knows that very well. Of course they do!

Everyone is different in their own unique way. Each individual comes with each different set of background and stories to tell. This method of help works for one, does not mean it will work for the other.

Rules and regulations are written by people.

Sometimes, "black-&-white" is a weak excuse. Look past the paper and into your fellow human's soul.

Anyhoos, we will still be contentedly graze through the grass and still let the others climb up the waterfall.

That's life. Shit happens.

Ocean

The treacherous wind embrace my dark brown hair. Work on-board will never be done. Squirming my eyes from the stinging afternoon sun, the air feels cooling. The women will find this weather a pleasant one with the current calming wave of the sea.

Historically, women are not allowed on-board until a few years ago it all changed for the better. The State of Piracy approved and removed the stigma of women being on-board. We rejoiced and celebrated the fact that more women will be able to find work and try to struggle their way out of poverty.

Trotting across the upper deck, I spot my husband. I see him looking out into the vast blue waters with his eyes squinting. The sun rays sprinkled diamonds on the surface of the majestic ocean. Once in a while, I find myself enjoying the magnificent view of the gorgeous nature placed before us.

My husband sees me and his right arm draws upward, waving at me. I flash my dearest smile over to him. His job is not easy and no normal man can do what my husband could.

"How's the ladies doing, me love?" My husband asks with his low husky voice. He leans over to me and rewards me with a peck on my cheek.

"They are fine. The last shift is almost over." I have to take care of the ladies on board. They are being paid to please the men here. These men starts work when the sun eases down. That is the best time for my husband and his men to strike.

The ladies whom I supervise works hard in the day and rests at night. Some of them are not at all pleased with what they ought to do. I am the one who have to set them straight.

"Get down there and do what you are paid to do, you wretched slut!" I had to chide them once in a while. Not one of these women are allowed to climb over me. I condone that. This one girl, Kacca, whom I will remember for the rest of my life as she was the first girl I trashed in public on-board last year. That imbecile refused to use her mouth for one of the Chief on board. How dare she opposed to her own job scope which she signed up for. My reputation is at stake, for goodness' sake!

It was a lesson I had to teach to the other girls... Women. I like to call them women. It sounds a notch higher - of good quality for the men. Thrashing Kacca in front of the other women was something I had to do, to show what I am capable of, to oppress the women. It will make my job easier this way. 

The sun begin to set. The bell strikes for the men to come out to the deck. The waves began to tremble. The nightly war is going to start. I shoved the women into their cabins.

I have to admit, it is a tough job being a pirate's wife on board.

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How I Accompanied My Dad Until His Last Breath (Part 2 of 3)

Mid-way through my event, I made the decision to leave earlier. It was torturous. My company was not that smart anyway (more of "How Not To Operate A Company" at a later date).

Since I typed this part of this entry more than 3 months after his death, my memory of the hospital visit was fuzzy.

So anyway, I guess I went to the hospital to visit my dad, in hopes that he will wake up soon.

Over the course of the hospital stay, my family discussed which option should we take.

My stand was to give him one more chance to fight for his life. So means, just one more surgery if needed. After that, let nature take its course. We cannot keep allowing him to feel so much pain and fight God when it was his time to go.

Yes. We were slowly accepting a little part of reality that he may move on. But, we still have hopes that he will wake up.

Day in day out, relatives and friends came to visit him.

We talked to him in hopes that he could listen to us. We embrace his hands and arms, to tell him that his family and friends are there with him.

Halfway through in some parts, the doctor said that he was no longer on the sleep medicine. He may or may not wake up. Now it is all depending on himself. However, the doctor said it is highly unlikely he will wake up because of the core brain started to be filled with blood leakage.

Yes. Before we could tell the doctor of our decision, the doctor mentioned to us that the blood leaked to the other part of his brain and there is no way to stop the bleeding. They could not remove the clot as it will promote more bleeding. The insulin he had for his diabetes, made his blood thinner. Which means, the blood just keep bleeding non stop. FUCK.

Also, his toe infection may already have infected his blood stream.

"He is a very sick man."

That's what the doctor said. Exactly word by word.

All the doctors seemed extremely pessimistic about his condition.

"We could no longer do anything to help him. No amount of surgeries could save him."

The next day, his brain was so swollen that it shifted a little to the right. It will shift and shift until the core stem break.

Unbelievable.

The brain is such a delicate piece of a fucking toufu. Yadda yadda yadda.

We had to stay overnight at the hospital, sleeping of uncomfortable sofas then decided to go home to rest at 3am and come back the next day in the morning.

"It could be anytime soon."

That's what the doctor said.

==========

I did not truly know the feeling of being in extreme sadness, guilt and remorse. Throughout my father's fight for life, I truly embraced the feeling of appreciating life. Life is so precious and the fact that the brain is as delicate as a toufu, made me care more for myself.

We still continued to talk to him. To massage his arms and shoulders. Sometimes his body was warm, sometimes it was cold. He did not seem that he would wake up, but we keep asking him to wake up. I know scientifically, it was impossible. The blood damaged the central brain cells where the conscious is. But, miracle do happen, right?

His blood pressure increases and decreases. His brain pressure decreased. The morphine intake increased. We got a feeling that he was waiting for his last sibling to visit him. He was fighting and waiting for Tuesday to come, for his sister to see him for the last time.

His brothers from Malaysia even came down to visit him. I am unsure why they do not seem to want to talk much with him or even touch his hand. I told them that he can hear what we say, just speak to him for the last time, will this harm anything? No. Just speak to him.

I went out of the ICU to give them some privacy.

At some point of time, I finally decided to plan in advance for his wake. I know it was fucking bad or mean to even think about it. My family are all female. Once my two sisters break down and cry and grieve, I cannot break down together with them. Someone needs to get the paper work done. Someone needs to attend to the funeral preparation. That someone will have to be me.

So I grieve as much as I can and to better prepare myself for the worse.

My sister and I almost decided to hold a Catholic funeral for him. Something does not feel right. A relative keep mentioning that it would be good if our father can go to heaven with us. We will be together with him when our time is up. But, something still does not feel right.

My dad is very neutral when it comes to religion. He had no objection to Christianity, Taoist, Buddhist. However, over the years, he is more inclined to Buddhism. He would go to the temples and what not.

So, we decided - Buddhist funeral.

My heart ached as we came to a decision. Do we really have to go through this? To really prepare for his death? He is still breathing (though on a life support).

Once, his leg kicked. My sister got worked up and thought he was sending some signal to us that he know what is going on, that he is going to wake up. She cried. I can imagine the intense emotions she had to go through. But, I knew, it was not him doing the kick.

The doctor carefully explained that it was a spinal cord reflex and all.

That was such a terrible roller-coaster feeling, isn't it?

Thinking that your father may miraculously wake up from his slumber on the hospital bed. But, he just would not.

At the night of that Tuesday, after his sister visited him, his blood pressure decreased significantly.

How weird is this? Does this mean he was truly fighting to be alive to wait for his last sibling to visit him?

We constantly tell him stuffs like who and who is in the room to visit him. We would tell him the day, date and time. We will tell him that we are going to have dinner and will come back later.

Do you think he knows? Do you think he could have heard us and understood?

I really hope so and after this incident, I do highly believe that he could have heard us.

So his BP decreased and decreased. The doctor called us to tell us it could be anytime soon and be prepared. We just stood with him. Sobbing.

"Thank you for agreeing for him to propose to me. I am finally going to get married." I whispered to him. Well, at least let him know one of his daughters will finally be married, right? I believe he will feel at ease knowing that.

So we held him, spoke to him. At some point, his heart stopped beating. We just stood there in silence. In disbelief. Was that it? We started to cry.

Then the bloody machine began to show pulses again. Were the electronics teasing us or something?

Or was it that the guardian of death was pulling him to go with him and my father did not want to. Maybe the two of them were shuffling in the ICU or something.

We keep saying stuffs like "Rest in peace, we will take care of ourselves. We are all grown up. Rest well."

I truly believe that he was fighting. He was lost. His soul did not know where to go or something. Something felt weird. He was just at a lost!

So I prayed to God. I prayed for Him to protect his soul and guide him to wherever he ought to go.

Silence.

His heart stopped beating. The machine did not register any pulses. The line was straight. That was it. He was gone. Gone from this human world. Our father passed away in the presence of his three beloved daughters.

Thank you, God.