Reflections on Father's Day: What gift would you want for your child?

A father shares his thoughts on the joy of raising a daughter and his final legacy as he reconciles himself to his mortality.

- Yeo Whee Jim

Nobody prepared me for her arrival. Yes, the weight of her tiny hand in my hand, how her gurgle melted my heart—these are all precious memories from 19 years ago. But the reality of the first few minutes was visceral—her blue-black body covered with mucus and blood, the pungent smell permeating every corner of the small delivery room. The truth is, I nearly passed out from that overwhelming experience.

So much has happened since that embarrassing moment and she has grown into a loveable and gorgeous blessing of a daughter. Despite the tragedies in her life—the early loss of both grandfathers and, most significantly, her mother when she was barely seven—she was nearly a perfect child.

She opened her heart to people around and was generous with her time, writing thoughtful cards to her classmates and friends in church, taking care and showering love on all her pets over the years, from a dog to three cats and a rabbit.

We never really celebrated Father's Day. There didn't seem to be a need. In the first seven years of her life, we tried to optimize the time we could spend together as a family, while I balanced full-time work with my wife's long-drawn cancer treatment.

There are still many happy memories of checking out the different playgrounds in our Ghim Moh neighbourhood. I remember her fearlessly climbing the equipment, and overcoming the traumatic theft of her beloved fluffy Hello Kitty handbag, as her playground mates tried to console her. Those days of unstructured play, building social bonds with fellow adventurers, I hope, have shaped her character positively and built a foundation of curiosity and courage.