A Tribute to a Very Marvellous Dad on Father’s Day
There is a storey we all preferred to listen to as kids, and that was the one about how my brave Dad got his face covered with scars. I will recite to you the story at the finish of this tribute, a tribute to the best dad a little girl could ever have. His dying at the early age of 54 came as a shock especially when his designation for the infirmary was to have a plaster cast removed only to bring him dead in the waiting room.
Eventhough the parting of the ways was sudden the warmest of memories has still held a deep presence in my thoughts over the 26 years where I was proud to call him my dad. If I could turn back time, I would apologize for the times I took him for granted. Unfortunately, it’s overly late and I would have to bear this burden throughout my life. But knowing the man he was, I’m sure he will forgive me.
The idea that comforted me and helped relieve the gall I felt was the one that goes “the good die young”.People view the word “special” in a lot of ways. So what do I see in my father that makes him more special than the others?
Dad and his Fathers Day Gifts served 34 years in the army but trouble was brewing up on communist day in Hong Kong where dad was posted. It was the sound of warning signal bells that set the evacuation into motion for the folks living outside the barracks to return to the camp straightaway.
8 of us were bundled into the rear of a 3 ton army wagon with pillows for protective covering and ordered to keep our heads down of which we obeyed – the Chinese mob come out from the entrenches that lined the route, armed with all kinds of weapons – 21 stones got in the wagon as we headed toward the camp.
The convoy of trucks that travelled along behind and stopped – now became burning wrecks.You can only guess what the truck and the driver looked like when a bombardment of boulders were hurled into the front portion of the wagon. There were no medallions of courage granted to the driver when recognition was delivered by the army officers for his act of valour. The reason why was because he should not have been driving at the time, so all the congratulations went to the wrong man sitting up front.
I often inquire today this day would we all came out alive if the boot was on the other foot, if those drivers did not violate the rules.
The result of that horrifying day was a truck with no windshield, a driver with no face and eight people who lived to recount the tale. Now, you understand the reason why the marks on my father’s face scarred us for life.
