Good morning family and friends. Thank you for coming to see my father, Mr Ong Huat Choon, for the last time.
To many of you gathered here today, my father was a jovial, fiercely independent, music and art-lover, always ready to give you the 101 lesson on his arowana fishes, some Chinese porcelain vase or even a brief introduction to the many clocks and coins he has collected over the years. To those in the family, he’s the brother or uncle who might have told you about some mathematical formulae he spent time proving or some creative book-keeping methods he had used in his work. He might have entertained you with stories of how his childhood was spent on the streets of Tanjong Pagar with his friends, Uncle Lim and Uncle Tay, or his school days with Uncle Chong, Uncle Wong, Uncle Seah and Uncle Francis. Perhaps you have heard the “Mr. Ong, number 2 in the far east” story about how he worked his way up to be the financial controller of a Germany company. But to me, he was just Dad.
Dad was of the generation of stoic fathers, he was the disciplinarian, he set the ground rules as head of the family and mum, Stephanie and I had to follow them. He never told me that he loved me, but he expressed it through his actions. I was one of the few lucky kids in primary school to be ferried to school by my father every morning. I remember being called up to the principal’s office one day because dad insisted on driving into the school compound instead of dropping us at the school gate. He flouted the school rule because he wanted to ensure that we were safe. When Stephanie and I wanted to learn how to ride bicycles, he drove us to a quiet car park in East Coast Park to practise every week until we were confident enough to ride on our own. My father had a quick temper but his intentions were pure. He only wanted what was best for Stephanie and me. What sounded like nagging in my younger years was really him expressing his love for me. How I long to hear him nag at me again.
He was very particular about cleanliness and hated wasting resources. So he will always head to NTUC on Tuesdays to enjoy the senior citizens’ discount (2%). He was my reliable supplier of cherries and Redoxan tablets. He was always the first one to stand up for his family, always willing to offer help to his friends. He loved to sing and learnt to strum a guitar with Uncle Eddie in recent years. He truly enjoyed brandy and only drank it straight up, neat. My husband Matthew became a brandy convert because of his influence.
In his last days at Assisi Hospice, he sketched, solved Sudoku puzzles and sang the 周璇 classics. After he was diagnosed with cancer, his only wish was not to experience pain, and I am very thankful that he didn’t suffer too long.
老爸, 謝謝你這麼多年來，不眠不休的愛護，辛苦你了。We will take care of mum, and 姑姑 and each other. Rest in peace.
Your daughter always,
Stella
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