Tuesday, 12 February 2008
8.15 pm
The Garden of Remembrance Chapel
By Shirley Tan-Oehler
On Lunar New Year’s Eve, my brother Lincoln telephoned me.
“I need you to bring the car over as soon as possible.”
I looked at the clock in my handphone and saw that it read 7.32 am. When I drove over, he explained in apologetic tones:“Gareth missed the school bus. Mum thought it was to arrive at 8, but we found out today that he’s to be at school by 8. So I need the car to send him to school.”
Lincoln saw that I wasn’t dressed to go to the office and he felt bad that I could have had the next half an hour to prepare myself to go into town in the car with my icebox of ingredients for a steamboat lunch, but would now have to find my own way to Shenton Way.
Dad, the regular hero that he is, came to my rescue. He offered to drive me into town in his truck. Of course I said OK.
A short while later, Lincoln telephoned me to say he would be coming back with the car soon, and I could take it for the rest of the day. Dad and I decided that I should drive into town with him, and he would drive the car to the car wash so that we had a clean car when we went visiting.
For some reason, during that short road trip, I thanked him for something that I have always been grateful for but never told him about.
“Dada,” I said. “When I was very young, you told me that God gave each of us talents. Some more, and some just one. But if we did not make use of our talents, God could decide to take them all back and give them away to someone who would not waste them.
“When I was 9 years old, I knew God gave me a talent to write. At around the same time, you found out that I enjoyed reading and every Saturday, you would bring me to the warehouse to choose 10 storybooks.
“I never knew how costly books were, and I would always be asking you, as early as Thursday, if I could buy more storybooks on Saturday. You never said no.
“My father in heaven gave me a talent to write. And you, my father on earth nurtured my talent to write. And today, I am able to make a living out of writing.
“You know I don’t earn very much as a writer. But writing is a gift that God gave to me and which you nurtured, and so, I want you to know that no matter how much more salary I can earn from doing another job, I will always write for a living because I am meant to be a writer.”
*** *** ***
This is a book which I was commissioned to write last year, and which I took 6 weeks to complete the first draft.
On the third day of the Lunar New Year, a day after Dad died, my children and my sister’s children went shopping for white shirts.That night, my daughter Michaela showed me an image in her handphone. It was the Bestsellers book shelf at Kinokuniya, and my book is on it. My sister Irene, on that same day, saw my book at Borders. It is on the Bestsellers top shelf.
*** *** ***
So, you see my problem? I write for a living but 4 days after my father has died, I am still unable to write his eulogy and discharge my duty as the writer in the family. How can I write in so few words about a man who has done so much?
*** *** ***
We remember incidents. We remember people involved in incidents. Like a photograph, these incidents are frozen in time. In writing term, these frozen incidents are called “snapshots”. You will have different snapshots of my father. Tonight, I will share with you of my some snapshots.
*** *** ***
Education and Equality
My father was someone who appreciated higher education. This incident happened when I was in Primary 4.
One afternoon, traveling home, I was relegated to the back seat of Dad’s car because he had a friend in the front passenger seat. That friend asked if I was a good student. Dad said I was an excellent one, and that I was 4th in standard. That friend remarked: “What’s the good of being clever? She’s a girl. One day she will get married and take on another man’s surname.”
Dad said: “Girl or boy, she’s still my child.”
After dropping off his friend in Upper Bukit Timah, very much near home, he turned the car back into town. He took me to Magnolia Snack Bar at Orchard Road, near where Centrepoint is today, and bought me a Milk Shake.
This is the reason I have a double-barrel surname, “Tan-Oehler”. I will not let go of “Tan” because Dad never let go of me.
Even after all 4 of us grew up and got married, Dad never differentiated his daughters from his sons. In fact, he gained 2 sons through his daughters and 2 daughters through his sons. Altogether, Dad had 7 grandchildren. Every one called him, “GongGong”. When it came to sharing and giving hongbao, he gave every one of us the same amount. This extended to my cousins – Cecil, Cyril, Joseph, Johnny, Luthar – and their children, and Lawrence the bachelor boy, Dad gave us the same love and affection.
Dad was extremely proud of my brothers Moses and Lincoln. Both of them enrolled for distant learning after they got married. Dad praised their virtuous wives for encouraging them and supporting them as they earned their degrees.
Dad was also very proud of my sister Irene who could not focus on her studies when she was younger because she was frequently ill, but more than made up when she was older and learnt skills that secured her good jobs. Irene now works as Admissions Director at an international school in Jakarta, and she is also Editor for her school’s publications.
Dad was also very proud that our God-sister Karen-Evelyn is a company director and runs a successful business. She was very upset that she could not get back from Cyprus quick enough upon hearing about my father’ death. But God paved the way and she is now here with us.
Innovation
By Shirley Tan-Oehler
On Lunar New Year’s Eve, my brother Lincoln telephoned me.
“I need you to bring the car over as soon as possible.”
I looked at the clock in my handphone and saw that it read 7.32 am. When I drove over, he explained in apologetic tones:“Gareth missed the school bus. Mum thought it was to arrive at 8, but we found out today that he’s to be at school by 8. So I need the car to send him to school.”
Lincoln saw that I wasn’t dressed to go to the office and he felt bad that I could have had the next half an hour to prepare myself to go into town in the car with my icebox of ingredients for a steamboat lunch, but would now have to find my own way to Shenton Way.
Dad, the regular hero that he is, came to my rescue. He offered to drive me into town in his truck. Of course I said OK.
A short while later, Lincoln telephoned me to say he would be coming back with the car soon, and I could take it for the rest of the day. Dad and I decided that I should drive into town with him, and he would drive the car to the car wash so that we had a clean car when we went visiting.
For some reason, during that short road trip, I thanked him for something that I have always been grateful for but never told him about.
“Dada,” I said. “When I was very young, you told me that God gave each of us talents. Some more, and some just one. But if we did not make use of our talents, God could decide to take them all back and give them away to someone who would not waste them.
“When I was 9 years old, I knew God gave me a talent to write. At around the same time, you found out that I enjoyed reading and every Saturday, you would bring me to the warehouse to choose 10 storybooks.
“I never knew how costly books were, and I would always be asking you, as early as Thursday, if I could buy more storybooks on Saturday. You never said no.
“My father in heaven gave me a talent to write. And you, my father on earth nurtured my talent to write. And today, I am able to make a living out of writing.
“You know I don’t earn very much as a writer. But writing is a gift that God gave to me and which you nurtured, and so, I want you to know that no matter how much more salary I can earn from doing another job, I will always write for a living because I am meant to be a writer.”
*** *** ***
This is a book which I was commissioned to write last year, and which I took 6 weeks to complete the first draft.
On the third day of the Lunar New Year, a day after Dad died, my children and my sister’s children went shopping for white shirts.That night, my daughter Michaela showed me an image in her handphone. It was the Bestsellers book shelf at Kinokuniya, and my book is on it. My sister Irene, on that same day, saw my book at Borders. It is on the Bestsellers top shelf.
*** *** ***
So, you see my problem? I write for a living but 4 days after my father has died, I am still unable to write his eulogy and discharge my duty as the writer in the family. How can I write in so few words about a man who has done so much?
*** *** ***
We remember incidents. We remember people involved in incidents. Like a photograph, these incidents are frozen in time. In writing term, these frozen incidents are called “snapshots”. You will have different snapshots of my father. Tonight, I will share with you of my some snapshots.
*** *** ***
Education and Equality
My father was someone who appreciated higher education. This incident happened when I was in Primary 4.
One afternoon, traveling home, I was relegated to the back seat of Dad’s car because he had a friend in the front passenger seat. That friend asked if I was a good student. Dad said I was an excellent one, and that I was 4th in standard. That friend remarked: “What’s the good of being clever? She’s a girl. One day she will get married and take on another man’s surname.”
Dad said: “Girl or boy, she’s still my child.”
After dropping off his friend in Upper Bukit Timah, very much near home, he turned the car back into town. He took me to Magnolia Snack Bar at Orchard Road, near where Centrepoint is today, and bought me a Milk Shake.
This is the reason I have a double-barrel surname, “Tan-Oehler”. I will not let go of “Tan” because Dad never let go of me.
Even after all 4 of us grew up and got married, Dad never differentiated his daughters from his sons. In fact, he gained 2 sons through his daughters and 2 daughters through his sons. Altogether, Dad had 7 grandchildren. Every one called him, “GongGong”. When it came to sharing and giving hongbao, he gave every one of us the same amount. This extended to my cousins – Cecil, Cyril, Joseph, Johnny, Luthar – and their children, and Lawrence the bachelor boy, Dad gave us the same love and affection.
Dad was extremely proud of my brothers Moses and Lincoln. Both of them enrolled for distant learning after they got married. Dad praised their virtuous wives for encouraging them and supporting them as they earned their degrees.
Dad was also very proud of my sister Irene who could not focus on her studies when she was younger because she was frequently ill, but more than made up when she was older and learnt skills that secured her good jobs. Irene now works as Admissions Director at an international school in Jakarta, and she is also Editor for her school’s publications.
Dad was also very proud that our God-sister Karen-Evelyn is a company director and runs a successful business. She was very upset that she could not get back from Cyprus quick enough upon hearing about my father’ death. But God paved the way and she is now here with us.
Innovation
My father was someone who was creative and innovative. You cannot imagine how many gadgets he had created using everyday items like clothes hangers and clothes pegs, and urged us to improve on the homemade gadgets and get them patented.
He had a fascination with gadgets. He would repair anything and everything that he could repair. He would also buy items for novelty sake
The day after Dad died, my nephew Gabriel, Lincoln’s eldest son, asked me: “Now, who’s going to buy those strange can openers that only GongGong knows how to use but the rest of us don’t?”
One invention – all 4 of us are sure he invented it – is “Camp Porridge”. The first time we ate Camp Porridge was when mum was hospitalized. We were fretty and whiney. Dad said he would cook us Camp Porridge. It was a novelty and for a while, we stopped fretting and whining. So what is Camp Porridge?
First, you warm up the wok. You throw in a small pinch of chopped garlic and brown it. Then you scoop a huge dollop of leftover porridge and stir it in. Then you pour in some light soya sauce and stir some more. When it’s all sticky and gueey, you crack in an egg. You break the yolk and stir some more, and voila! Camp Porridge! We ate Camp Porridge every day until mum got home from hospital. We have never eaten Camp Porridge again.
Friendship
When Dad extends his friendship, you can be sure that you have a friend for life. There was a taxi driver who lived in a shanty stall on the opposite side of the road from our home in Upper Bukit Timah Road…
When Dad was held up and could not pick me home, he would contact this taxi driver and paid him for his services. When this taxi driver grew too old to drive, and he had no family to live with, Dad helped to set him up at an old folks’ home. Together with my mum, he would visit this taxi driver every week. Sometimes, I went along too.
Dad and mum did this until the taxi driver died. Dad handled his funeral.
Then there was this car mechanic, who lived up the road from our present home in Hillview Estate…
He had family, but they all lived overseas. He stayed with one child in New Zealand for several months in the year and in Australia for another several months. But he was unhappy because his wife had passed on and her remains were in Singapore. To him, home was where he could visit his wife. So he came home to Singapore and lived alone.
Dad would invite him to come to lunch, and in the evening, after mum cooked dinner, she would send the housemaid to deliver a portion to him.
Dad and mum did this until the car mechanic died. His children handled his funeral.
Faith
My father loved, trusted and obeyed God. And he always urged us to do the same.
My cousin Cecil shared in his eulogy last night about Dad’s first episode of heart attack 11 years ago.This is what happened that night…
He feels faint.
He had a fascination with gadgets. He would repair anything and everything that he could repair. He would also buy items for novelty sake
The day after Dad died, my nephew Gabriel, Lincoln’s eldest son, asked me: “Now, who’s going to buy those strange can openers that only GongGong knows how to use but the rest of us don’t?”
One invention – all 4 of us are sure he invented it – is “Camp Porridge”. The first time we ate Camp Porridge was when mum was hospitalized. We were fretty and whiney. Dad said he would cook us Camp Porridge. It was a novelty and for a while, we stopped fretting and whining. So what is Camp Porridge?
First, you warm up the wok. You throw in a small pinch of chopped garlic and brown it. Then you scoop a huge dollop of leftover porridge and stir it in. Then you pour in some light soya sauce and stir some more. When it’s all sticky and gueey, you crack in an egg. You break the yolk and stir some more, and voila! Camp Porridge! We ate Camp Porridge every day until mum got home from hospital. We have never eaten Camp Porridge again.
Friendship
When Dad extends his friendship, you can be sure that you have a friend for life. There was a taxi driver who lived in a shanty stall on the opposite side of the road from our home in Upper Bukit Timah Road…
When Dad was held up and could not pick me home, he would contact this taxi driver and paid him for his services. When this taxi driver grew too old to drive, and he had no family to live with, Dad helped to set him up at an old folks’ home. Together with my mum, he would visit this taxi driver every week. Sometimes, I went along too.
Dad and mum did this until the taxi driver died. Dad handled his funeral.
Then there was this car mechanic, who lived up the road from our present home in Hillview Estate…
He had family, but they all lived overseas. He stayed with one child in New Zealand for several months in the year and in Australia for another several months. But he was unhappy because his wife had passed on and her remains were in Singapore. To him, home was where he could visit his wife. So he came home to Singapore and lived alone.
Dad would invite him to come to lunch, and in the evening, after mum cooked dinner, she would send the housemaid to deliver a portion to him.
Dad and mum did this until the car mechanic died. His children handled his funeral.
Faith
My father loved, trusted and obeyed God. And he always urged us to do the same.
My cousin Cecil shared in his eulogy last night about Dad’s first episode of heart attack 11 years ago.This is what happened that night…
He feels faint.
He struggles up 2 flights of stairs because the escalator is not working.
“God, be my strength…”
He is breathless.
“God, be my strength…”
He makes it.
He flies home.
My brother Lincoln meets him and mum at the airport.
Mum said you haven’t had dinner. How about some porridge?
“OK. I’m not hungry. But mum also has not eaten.”
In the middle of the night, he is again breathless, and goes to hospital by ambulance.
When his condition stabilises, he chases mum and Lincoln home to rest.
Just as they are about to climb into bed again, the hospital calls.
Your father is critically ill. Best that your whole family comes.The rest of us are alerted and rush to hospital.
“Who asked you to come to hospital? You should be sleeping. You don’t have to work today? Go back and sleep.”
We are bewildered.The hospital cannot have alerted the wrong family!
Later, we find out…
Dad already had his first heart attack when he was at the airport, except he did not know. By the time he had his 4th heart attack – the 2nd at home and the 3rd and 4th at hospital – he was in so much pain that he lost consciousness.
Dad told us, in his unconscious state, he could hear the conversations taking place by his bedside.
“Up the morphine,” one voice said.
“I’ve maxed the dosage. If we give him more, we’ll kill him.”
At that point, Dad said spoke to God.
“Father, if it is your will that I leave this earth, take me quickly.
“If you want me to remain on earth and be a testament to your glory, relieve me of my pain.
“These people here… They don’t know what to do with me.
“Thank you, Lord.“Am..”
My brother Lincoln meets him and mum at the airport.
Mum said you haven’t had dinner. How about some porridge?
“OK. I’m not hungry. But mum also has not eaten.”
In the middle of the night, he is again breathless, and goes to hospital by ambulance.
When his condition stabilises, he chases mum and Lincoln home to rest.
Just as they are about to climb into bed again, the hospital calls.
Your father is critically ill. Best that your whole family comes.The rest of us are alerted and rush to hospital.
“Who asked you to come to hospital? You should be sleeping. You don’t have to work today? Go back and sleep.”
We are bewildered.The hospital cannot have alerted the wrong family!
Later, we find out…
Dad already had his first heart attack when he was at the airport, except he did not know. By the time he had his 4th heart attack – the 2nd at home and the 3rd and 4th at hospital – he was in so much pain that he lost consciousness.
Dad told us, in his unconscious state, he could hear the conversations taking place by his bedside.
“Up the morphine,” one voice said.
“I’ve maxed the dosage. If we give him more, we’ll kill him.”
At that point, Dad said spoke to God.
“Father, if it is your will that I leave this earth, take me quickly.
“If you want me to remain on earth and be a testament to your glory, relieve me of my pain.
“These people here… They don’t know what to do with me.
“Thank you, Lord.“Am..”
Dad experienced an instant uplifting.
All the pain that was unbearable a few seconds before, left him.
Dad sat up. He stripped himself off all the wires.
“You don’t have to worry. I’m alright now.”
All the doctors and nurses by his bedside were shocked. None of them were Christians, we were afterwards told.But they witnessed a miracle of God.
Dad got out of bed.
Mr Tan, Mr Tan, please lie back in bed…
Several of them called out and rushed towards him.
Dad laughed.
“My God has healed me.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’m alright now.”
All the doctors and nurses by his bedside were shocked. None of them were Christians, we were afterwards told.But they witnessed a miracle of God.
Dad got out of bed.
Mr Tan, Mr Tan, please lie back in bed…
Several of them called out and rushed towards him.
Dad laughed.
“My God has healed me.”
That was 11 years ago. Dad knew he would return to God his Heavenly Father, quickly and without suffering. And so it was, when he died at sea on 8 February, he stood up from his chair, slumped back, and left his body on earth.
*** *** ***
“Keep the Faith,” Dad would tell us.
On Lunar New Year’s Eve, 16 of us gathered in the kitchen. Dad distributed hongbao to each of us, as is his habit every year. He asked Moses to say Grace.
Moses said: “You say Grace every year. You do it.”
Dad led in Grace and we ate.
After dinner, Lincoln pulled out a DVD, “Facing the Giants”, and suggested that we should all, as a family, watch it. The theme of the movie is based on Matthew 19:26: “With men, this is impossible, but with God, all things are possible.”
After the movie, Dad told me: “Ah Girl should share this with her friends at Sports School. (“Ah Girl” is what he called my daughter Michaela.) Coming back to the movie, Dad said some will understand it, and some may not. But even if some view it as just a sports movie, it’s alright. One day, they will realise, that with God, nothing is impossible.
*** *** ***
I could go on and on and on…
But supper is ready and my father, if he were alive, would be angry that I kept you from enjoying your food. Worse, if because I caused a delay and you need to go home, and so, skip supper.
So please, have supper after this memorial service.
Mum, my brothers, sisters and our spouses and children, thank all of you for coming to celebrate with us the very full life that Dad led.
There were 3 activities that Dad loved dearly – going to shop for bargains in Johor Baru, deep-sea fishing and going on cruises. He loved the sun, the sand and the sea. He died at sea.
You will miss him just as we will. But do not feel sad because he did not sail to no-where. He sailed to heaven.
To my uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews and nieces, I’m glad that you are family.Mum, Moses, Irene, Huw, David, Celine, Lincoln, Angie, Gabriel, Gareth, Glendon, Evelyn, Andreas and Michi, Dad/GongGong loved all of you too, just as he loved Cathy and Manfred. Joy and Tess, you have served him well and he appreciated you too.
Before I return to my seat, I would like to share some of his guidance for his children and grandchildren.
Children… Yes, that’s the 7 of you… Listen well:
“If you see that something needs to be done, just get it done. You don’t have to wait for someone to ask you for help before you give it. And don’t expect to be thanked. It is better to give than to receive.”
“Everyone wants to get ahead. It’s human nature. You don’t have to play dirty to become No. 1. Be a decent human being.”
“Thank God that you have a roof over your head and food on the table. There are many who are hungry every day, and not just during mealtimes. Don’t waste food.”
“Look after mum.”
Children, that’s Mahmah to you…
“Sometimes, God allows us to suffer so that we become stronger. Maybe it’s for you as an individual. Maybe it’s for you as a family, that you become closer as one family unit. So, always thank God.”
“In everything, trust God.”
To God Be The Glory. Amen.
*** *** ***
“Keep the Faith,” Dad would tell us.
On Lunar New Year’s Eve, 16 of us gathered in the kitchen. Dad distributed hongbao to each of us, as is his habit every year. He asked Moses to say Grace.
Moses said: “You say Grace every year. You do it.”
Dad led in Grace and we ate.
After dinner, Lincoln pulled out a DVD, “Facing the Giants”, and suggested that we should all, as a family, watch it. The theme of the movie is based on Matthew 19:26: “With men, this is impossible, but with God, all things are possible.”
After the movie, Dad told me: “Ah Girl should share this with her friends at Sports School. (“Ah Girl” is what he called my daughter Michaela.) Coming back to the movie, Dad said some will understand it, and some may not. But even if some view it as just a sports movie, it’s alright. One day, they will realise, that with God, nothing is impossible.
*** *** ***
I could go on and on and on…
But supper is ready and my father, if he were alive, would be angry that I kept you from enjoying your food. Worse, if because I caused a delay and you need to go home, and so, skip supper.
So please, have supper after this memorial service.
Mum, my brothers, sisters and our spouses and children, thank all of you for coming to celebrate with us the very full life that Dad led.
There were 3 activities that Dad loved dearly – going to shop for bargains in Johor Baru, deep-sea fishing and going on cruises. He loved the sun, the sand and the sea. He died at sea.
You will miss him just as we will. But do not feel sad because he did not sail to no-where. He sailed to heaven.
To my uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews and nieces, I’m glad that you are family.Mum, Moses, Irene, Huw, David, Celine, Lincoln, Angie, Gabriel, Gareth, Glendon, Evelyn, Andreas and Michi, Dad/GongGong loved all of you too, just as he loved Cathy and Manfred. Joy and Tess, you have served him well and he appreciated you too.
Before I return to my seat, I would like to share some of his guidance for his children and grandchildren.
Children… Yes, that’s the 7 of you… Listen well:
“If you see that something needs to be done, just get it done. You don’t have to wait for someone to ask you for help before you give it. And don’t expect to be thanked. It is better to give than to receive.”
“Everyone wants to get ahead. It’s human nature. You don’t have to play dirty to become No. 1. Be a decent human being.”
“Thank God that you have a roof over your head and food on the table. There are many who are hungry every day, and not just during mealtimes. Don’t waste food.”
“Look after mum.”
Children, that’s Mahmah to you…
“Sometimes, God allows us to suffer so that we become stronger. Maybe it’s for you as an individual. Maybe it’s for you as a family, that you become closer as one family unit. So, always thank God.”
“In everything, trust God.”
To God Be The Glory. Amen.
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