She looked at her son. This son, who's a full Professor in Mathematics and Computing at NUS. Probably earning tonnes of money. This son, who's taught at Harvard, MIT and Cambridge before. This son, who's going to Cambridge to do his research in a couple of months. This son, who is blind in 1 eye and who was classmates with Dr William Tan the wheelchair marathoner. And all she said was:' Ah Chiang, eat more. Eat the fish. Chia herh.' (that means 'eat fish' in Teochew)
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I looked into his eyes. I saw his pain. I saw his realisation that his greatest fear had come true. He was doing well in life. The Deputy Director of an international youth programme that had benefitted hundreds of youths. He lived in a nice private house. He drove, spoke good English, and could afford to send his son to motivational camps. Yet, he couldn't understand why his son turned out with a mental illness. He couldn't. With fear, despair yet strength in his eyes, he looked at us and asked:'It's curable, right?'
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It was about an hour after we rounded up the counselling session. I had finished the debrief with my supervisor and was on the way home. I was taking the bus, and as it passed by the bus stop, I saw them. Yes, the father and son that had just come in for counselling a while ago. The son had taken a knife and tried to stab the mom. Yet at that bus stop, all that fear and anger and pain had ceased, if only for a little while. The son had jumped on his father's back, trying to get himself piggy-backed. It was a scene straight out of an MCYS 'Family-Life Matters!' advertisement. Yet behind that scene was so much pain and fear.
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She looked at him and held his hand. It was to be another day at work for him. Another day when he'd be out there counselling others, yet helpless to help her. Another day when she'd be at home alone, and he'd be at work, learning and sharing lives and helping virtually complete strangers. She looked at him and said:'Will today be very stressful for you? You have case today? Coming home for dinner?'
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I guess I will never understand the love of a parent. I will never fully know it. Maybe even when I have my own child, I will not understand why I am willing to give my life for her. It's one of the mysteries of life.
Teach us Your way, O God, that we may fear Your name.
_______________________________________________________
I looked into his eyes. I saw his pain. I saw his realisation that his greatest fear had come true. He was doing well in life. The Deputy Director of an international youth programme that had benefitted hundreds of youths. He lived in a nice private house. He drove, spoke good English, and could afford to send his son to motivational camps. Yet, he couldn't understand why his son turned out with a mental illness. He couldn't. With fear, despair yet strength in his eyes, he looked at us and asked:'It's curable, right?'
_______________________________________________________
It was about an hour after we rounded up the counselling session. I had finished the debrief with my supervisor and was on the way home. I was taking the bus, and as it passed by the bus stop, I saw them. Yes, the father and son that had just come in for counselling a while ago. The son had taken a knife and tried to stab the mom. Yet at that bus stop, all that fear and anger and pain had ceased, if only for a little while. The son had jumped on his father's back, trying to get himself piggy-backed. It was a scene straight out of an MCYS 'Family-Life Matters!' advertisement. Yet behind that scene was so much pain and fear.
_______________________________________________________
She looked at him and held his hand. It was to be another day at work for him. Another day when he'd be out there counselling others, yet helpless to help her. Another day when she'd be at home alone, and he'd be at work, learning and sharing lives and helping virtually complete strangers. She looked at him and said:'Will today be very stressful for you? You have case today? Coming home for dinner?'
_______________________________________________________
I guess I will never understand the love of a parent. I will never fully know it. Maybe even when I have my own child, I will not understand why I am willing to give my life for her. It's one of the mysteries of life.
Teach us Your way, O God, that we may fear Your name.
i love this entry liren..
n.. one day u'll noe. =]
cy
Children are the gifts from God and that is why we treasure...This relationship is similar to the one between God and Man...and that is Love all about!
+ baabaa