This is my Dad. He was born in Vietnam but of Chinese descent. In 1983 he arrived in Australia and in 1988 he became a father to his first daughter, me. Not long after in 1990, he fathered his first son. Dad was your typical Asian parent; worked hard to support the family, had high expectations of his children and was very strict. I remember as kids, whenever we disobeyed Dad, we would get the infamous âsmackâ by the end of a feather duster or fly squatter. By the time we reached high school, we were forbidden to date. We had to successfully pass our VCE (Victorian Certificate of Education) and enter University before we could even think of âdatingâ; A very typical Asian parent. In that sense, I think we grew a more respectfulâ relationship with Dad, rather than a âfriendshipâ. But as a little girl, I knew I was his Princess. Dad always spoilt me, and 90% of the time, I got what I wanted. The best memory was when the Spice Girlsâ âSpiceworldâ album came out and Dad had come home after work with the album in hand, on the very day it came out. I was over the moon!
In roughly 2010, my parents separated. They never got along and to be honest, I was glad they did. Things became a lot more peaceful and easier. My Mum became a lot happier and less stressed. The only drawback was that Dad could no longer see us everyday anymore. At that time, I never really thought about how much it had affected Dad. I assumed that seeing him for dinner once a couple of weeks was good enough. It all came back to that ârespectfulâ relationship we had rather than a close one.
At the start of this year, I embarked on a solo European trip, backpacking my way through some of the infamous countries of Europe. First stop, Norway, where my cousin (far right) lived. This was the first time I got to meet my Dadâs oldest sister (My Aunt, cousinâs mother), someone he really loved and respected. A week into the trip, I got a phone call telling me Dad had been admitted to hospital for a ruptured stomach ulcer, which was later revealed to be stomach cancer. There was nothing to do but cancel my long planned holiday and fly straight back home.
In the seven months since, my brother and I spent a fraction of each of our days with Dad, whether it be at his cousinâs place where he was staying, or in hospital. We would spend our time watching Asian TV dramas and chatting about the little things happening in my brother and my life. We knew one day we wouldnât be able to do these things again, but we never thought it would be this soon.
On Friday the 4th of October, my Dad passed away.
The last week we had with Dad was hard. Two weeks down the track, I think things are harder. I now feel the affect of his absence. I wish we could call him out and have dinner together, like we used to. But we canât.
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