Four years ago, my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Various people, including the doctors and those whose loved one had been diagnosed with the same disease, made us aware of how long dad potentially had to live. They told us that those who were lucky would live for up to 5 years. We were sad, but hopeful. We thank God that He allowed us to spend four more years with dad, even though those years were full of ups and downs. Various tests and scans over the years showed some improvements and declines. When covid hit, however, dad was unable to fly to Malaysia for his regular check-ups. Tests and scans became less frequent due to covid health scare in Indonesian hospitals. Finally, the past month witnessed dad’s drastic decline. The last test revealed that his cancer had spread to his brain and liver, and the doctor told us that we needed to be ready for the inevitable.
Last Saturday, came the dreaded phone calls from my sisters, right when Maria and I were teaching at our student fellowship. However unwanted it was, Melbourne’s snap lockdown meant we had to teach via Zoom, and it somehow provided a way for me to go in and out of the camera to take the various phone calls updating me on dad’s last hour ordeal, while Maria bravely continued the session. When my sister-in-law finally called and said, “Dad is not breathing anymore,” both my legs gave way, and I sat on the floor with my side leaning on the wall sobbing like a little child. My wife and kids heard it and ran to sit with me for a while. Thanks to Zoom, the students were kept longer in the breakout rooms, not knowing what had just happened. Long story short, my dad went to be with His Lord last Saturday, around 4.30 pm, Melbourne time.
Needless to say, the past three days have been the most difficult days of my life. At the same time, God has brought a few things to my mind as I grieve and process this. So, I write them in this post, partly as my way to process this, and partly being hopeful that it can be a blessing and a reminder.
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