In Memory
At 9:15pm on March 6th, 2006, my father breathe his last and returned home to be with the Lord. He had lived to a ripe old age of 86 although he had to battle with diabetes for the past 35 years or so. Although still very alert in mind, his limbs and organs were weak and could not walk far without taking a rest. In spite of this, he would still take the occassional plane ride to Penang to stay with my brother there.
The funeral service and a celebration of his life was held on March 9th, 2006 and he was laid to rest on the same day. The grandchildren presented a song during the service. My brother from Penang delivered the eulogy which I am re-producing here, in memory of him.
Dear relatives, friends, old school and classmates, colleagues, brothers and sisters in Christ.
Those who attended the wake service on Tuesday night would have learnt that my father, Wang Weng Gong, was basically a very private person.
However, what was not told was that he was also the person who greatly impacted our lives.
Born the 3rd son of a Chinese Sinseh who ran a medical hall in Kampung Koh, Sitiawan, he was a hard working boy who finished Senior Middle School at the age of 17. He wanted to be a teacher, actually out of necessity rather than choice, but couldn’t because he was underage. So he added a year to his age (In other words, he cheated).
However, that led to a penalty he later paid when he was asked to retire at the age of 54 instead of the mandatory 55.
During last Chinese New Year, out of curiosity of how we were destined to be his children, I asked him how he ended up with mom. With a twinkle in his eyes and a voice the excitement of a teenager in love, he told me that he met mom in Mentakab where he was posted a schoolteacher just before the Japanese occupation.
After one job change and a failed chance to work in Singapore, a Kuala Pilah girl, fresh from a Teachers’ College in Canton China, saw herself in Mentakab. Because of the war, this petite girl moved back to Kuala Pilah with my dad in hot pursuit.
Their union at the end of 1944 started the Wang Weng Gong family.
My first memory of dad stretched back to the Fifties and the Sixties, of the days when we, as a family unit, stayed at 8 Teachers’ Quarters, Ma Hua Chinese primary school in Rasah New Village. It was the school where both my parents taught. He was also the senior assistant.
He sent us to study at that Chinese school when we reached the tender age of 5, alternating us between an English education in the morning and a Chinese education in the afternoon when we reached the formal schooling age of 7. To ensure that there was always one parent at home all the time, they took to shift work, with my dad largely taking the morning session in school and my mom the afternoon until he left Ma Hua.
He would bring home many books on general knowledge from his friend who ran a bookshop in town thus cultivating an interest, at least in me, to things around us even unto this day.
Seeing my interest in Physics and Mathematics, he would recycle the left over pages of student workbooks and compile them in booklets for me to practice my mathematics.
Even on incomes of primary school teachers, dad made preparations for my eldest brother and I to study in Australia together. Fortunately for the family, only William went as I continued my studies locally. Otherwise we would have bankrupted our parents.
That he was willing to commit the both of us to study in Australia then on such meager incomes touched me deeply till this day.
Every night without fail, he would checked on us before he retired to bed, making sure the mosquito nets that we were sleeping under were nicely tucked in.
He loved swimming and would bring the whole family to Port Dickson during weekends whenever he could. His favourite was swimming the breaststroke on his back, a style never seen done by anyone else before him, at least by us then.
My dad was a most innovative person. It is a pity that grandpa did not have the ability nor the vision to give him an English education so that he could find ways to be trained an engineer. He was also great with tools. It was said he even made his own bridal cupboard. That simple but yet elegant cupboard still standing at my parents’ house in Rasah is a testimony to his carpentry skills. When William and I were kids, he made wire lined lanterns that came with oil lamps in home made cartridges. Those were probably the first recyclable mid autumn lanterns in town.
Unfortunately, among siblings, only my brother William inherited the interest in hand skills from him.
He was also an extremely thrifty person. Never one who would pamper himself nor any member of his family with luxuries. I remember the first “expensive gift” I received from him was an automatic Seiko watch that was his reward for doing well in my Overseas School Certificate examinations.
In later years it became an agony to bring him out for dinner. In one incident, I was criticized incessantly for splashing 30 ringgit on a plate of Italian noodle for his dinner.
Though quiet and private, he was also a very affable person. He loved striking up a conversation with anyone, including strangers, and would also make effort to remember their names.
By the way, there is a huge error in the obituary that we published in the papers.
My father had 5 children (not 4 as published).
Back in 1945, my eldest sister (not Esther, mind you) passed away when she was a few months old in Sitiawan.
I remember dad told me when my daughter Christine was born that she resembled his long departed daughter.
We did not bring up the memory of this “nameless to us” sister because our parents hardly talked about her. It must have pained them tremendously for the memory.
We know today he is united with her just as we his children are all symbolically joined together through the “hearts” in our names.
Every uncle and aunty we met said I best resembled my dad’s image.
In recent years, even my children complained so.
That I am slow, just like him.
I am always late, just like him.
I make them wait for me, just like him.
I am stingy, just like him.
However, they never mention about the values grandpa passed on to me and my siblings.
That we wash and bandage their wounds, just like him.
We see that they are nicely tucked in every night before we sleep, just like him.
We provide the best educational opportunities for them, just like him.
And we love them and will never want to see them hurt, just like him.
My dad told me he formally accepted Christ when he was hospitalized during his first heart attack some 30 years ago. He mentioned he was “baptized” by a certain pastor then.
We are indeed blessed that God kept him another 30 years for us and he did not become a burden to any family member and that his departure on Monday night was swift and peaceful.
The Bible told us in John 11:38 where Jesus said “If we believed, we would see the glory of God.”
I believe my father is seeing that full glory right now in heaven with Jesus.
AND THAT’S WHERE WE WOULD LIKE TO BE NEXT, JUST LIKE HIM.
Thank you.
The funeral service and a celebration of his life was held on March 9th, 2006 and he was laid to rest on the same day. The grandchildren presented a song during the service. My brother from Penang delivered the eulogy which I am re-producing here, in memory of him.
Dear relatives, friends, old school and classmates, colleagues, brothers and sisters in Christ.
Those who attended the wake service on Tuesday night would have learnt that my father, Wang Weng Gong, was basically a very private person.
However, what was not told was that he was also the person who greatly impacted our lives.
Born the 3rd son of a Chinese Sinseh who ran a medical hall in Kampung Koh, Sitiawan, he was a hard working boy who finished Senior Middle School at the age of 17. He wanted to be a teacher, actually out of necessity rather than choice, but couldn’t because he was underage. So he added a year to his age (In other words, he cheated).
However, that led to a penalty he later paid when he was asked to retire at the age of 54 instead of the mandatory 55.
During last Chinese New Year, out of curiosity of how we were destined to be his children, I asked him how he ended up with mom. With a twinkle in his eyes and a voice the excitement of a teenager in love, he told me that he met mom in Mentakab where he was posted a schoolteacher just before the Japanese occupation.
After one job change and a failed chance to work in Singapore, a Kuala Pilah girl, fresh from a Teachers’ College in Canton China, saw herself in Mentakab. Because of the war, this petite girl moved back to Kuala Pilah with my dad in hot pursuit.
Their union at the end of 1944 started the Wang Weng Gong family.
My first memory of dad stretched back to the Fifties and the Sixties, of the days when we, as a family unit, stayed at 8 Teachers’ Quarters, Ma Hua Chinese primary school in Rasah New Village. It was the school where both my parents taught. He was also the senior assistant.
He sent us to study at that Chinese school when we reached the tender age of 5, alternating us between an English education in the morning and a Chinese education in the afternoon when we reached the formal schooling age of 7. To ensure that there was always one parent at home all the time, they took to shift work, with my dad largely taking the morning session in school and my mom the afternoon until he left Ma Hua.
He would bring home many books on general knowledge from his friend who ran a bookshop in town thus cultivating an interest, at least in me, to things around us even unto this day.
Seeing my interest in Physics and Mathematics, he would recycle the left over pages of student workbooks and compile them in booklets for me to practice my mathematics.
Even on incomes of primary school teachers, dad made preparations for my eldest brother and I to study in Australia together. Fortunately for the family, only William went as I continued my studies locally. Otherwise we would have bankrupted our parents.
That he was willing to commit the both of us to study in Australia then on such meager incomes touched me deeply till this day.
Every night without fail, he would checked on us before he retired to bed, making sure the mosquito nets that we were sleeping under were nicely tucked in.
He loved swimming and would bring the whole family to Port Dickson during weekends whenever he could. His favourite was swimming the breaststroke on his back, a style never seen done by anyone else before him, at least by us then.
My dad was a most innovative person. It is a pity that grandpa did not have the ability nor the vision to give him an English education so that he could find ways to be trained an engineer. He was also great with tools. It was said he even made his own bridal cupboard. That simple but yet elegant cupboard still standing at my parents’ house in Rasah is a testimony to his carpentry skills. When William and I were kids, he made wire lined lanterns that came with oil lamps in home made cartridges. Those were probably the first recyclable mid autumn lanterns in town.
Unfortunately, among siblings, only my brother William inherited the interest in hand skills from him.
He was also an extremely thrifty person. Never one who would pamper himself nor any member of his family with luxuries. I remember the first “expensive gift” I received from him was an automatic Seiko watch that was his reward for doing well in my Overseas School Certificate examinations.
In later years it became an agony to bring him out for dinner. In one incident, I was criticized incessantly for splashing 30 ringgit on a plate of Italian noodle for his dinner.
Though quiet and private, he was also a very affable person. He loved striking up a conversation with anyone, including strangers, and would also make effort to remember their names.
By the way, there is a huge error in the obituary that we published in the papers.
My father had 5 children (not 4 as published).
Back in 1945, my eldest sister (not Esther, mind you) passed away when she was a few months old in Sitiawan.
I remember dad told me when my daughter Christine was born that she resembled his long departed daughter.
We did not bring up the memory of this “nameless to us” sister because our parents hardly talked about her. It must have pained them tremendously for the memory.
We know today he is united with her just as we his children are all symbolically joined together through the “hearts” in our names.
Every uncle and aunty we met said I best resembled my dad’s image.
In recent years, even my children complained so.
That I am slow, just like him.
I am always late, just like him.
I make them wait for me, just like him.
I am stingy, just like him.
However, they never mention about the values grandpa passed on to me and my siblings.
That we wash and bandage their wounds, just like him.
We see that they are nicely tucked in every night before we sleep, just like him.
We provide the best educational opportunities for them, just like him.
And we love them and will never want to see them hurt, just like him.
My dad told me he formally accepted Christ when he was hospitalized during his first heart attack some 30 years ago. He mentioned he was “baptized” by a certain pastor then.
We are indeed blessed that God kept him another 30 years for us and he did not become a burden to any family member and that his departure on Monday night was swift and peaceful.
The Bible told us in John 11:38 where Jesus said “If we believed, we would see the glory of God.”
I believe my father is seeing that full glory right now in heaven with Jesus.
AND THAT’S WHERE WE WOULD LIKE TO BE NEXT, JUST LIKE HIM.
Thank you.
posted by Guy in the glass at 1:22 PM
2 Comments:
again my deepest condolences, but he lived a fine life, and i can see why he was a great man, my friend.
2 Timothy 4:7 : I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
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