Thursday, April 25, 2013

PSLE: Goodbye, Dad

It was father's fortieth birthday. I decided to give him a surprise by getting him a birthday cake - a cream cake with lots of strawberries. The bakery store was just a stone's throw away. I set off in my bike and made my way to the shop.

Soon, I spotted the row of shophouses and bought the cake. Instead of crossing at the traffic junction, I decided to dash across to return home. All of a sudden, a flash of headlights shone into my eyes and almost blinded me. When my vision adjusted itself, I saw a ten-ton lorry barrelling towards me.

Instantly, panic besieged me. My mind turned blank and my face became as white as a sheet. My legs turned into stones and could not move. My heart was pounding like the rhythm of an African drumbeat. The lorry moved closer and closer. Its tyres screeched loudly but it could not stop. I closed my eyes, awaiting for my impending death. A thousand images flashed through my mind. I could never see my dad again!

A loud crash reverberated through the air. The lorry had swerved and crashed into a rain tree. I was shocked! Smoke was billowing out of the bonnet. Immediately, I whipped out my phone and called the ambulance.

Then, I gingerly approached the lorry. The man looked so familiar.  To my greatest horror, it was the wretched face of my beloved dad. He lay sprawled in the cold leather seat,  coughing and spluttering blood from his mouth. The glass smithereens were all over and he was bleeding profusely. Guilt was written all over my face and I was trembling like a leaf in the wind.  Tears streaked down my cheeks like water leaking from an unclosed tap.  My eyes cringed from the horror of reality.

"Dad, Dad! Please don't sleep!" I pleaded with him, my voice cracking.

With bleeding lips and panting breaths, my dad gave a weak smile.  
Just then, the siren wailed down the street. The paramedics immediately placed him on a stretcher and whisked him off to the nearest hospital.  When we reached there, the doctors gave him an emergency operation. My whole family descended on the hospital like a plague of locusts.

Unfortunately, my father was wheeled out of the operating theatre and placed in a quiet ward.  When I gazed at him through the veil of tears, he seemed to be like in a deep, deep sleep.  I shook him hard, saying, "Dad, wake up, wake up!  Why the hell did you leave me without saying goodbye?" 


In the room, I took out the cake. It was in a terrible shape. I planted a candle on it and lit it.  In tears, we sang our final birthday song: Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Daddy! Happy birthday to you!  That night, my dad left with the angels.

Goodbye, Dad.  Goodbye. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."

Henry David Thoreau