On 9/11/2025, at 6pm, I was at Changi Airport with my mother to board my flight to Japan. I called my father to let him know I was there and was waiting for him to finish his work for the day so he could see me off. He sounded so well.
I never would have imagined that he would pass away at 8pm, 2 hours later.
Fast forward to today, I am in the midst of handling all his financial matters, as well as my own matters, while still grieving him. I miss him so much.
I will never hear him calling me at 6.30pm again, asking what we wanted for dinner.
I will never hear him announcing his return home at 8pm with dinner in hand.
I will never be able to our nightly conversations about how our days went.
I will never be able to go out with him on Saturdays to eat dinner again.
I will never be able to taste his cooking again.
I will never be able to hear his voice again.
I am so scared. I do not know how long I will be like this, grieving him. Life must go on. But I don’t know if I will be able to catch on. I still have courses to apply for. I still have his matters to take care of. But at the same time, life will never be the same without him. I don’t want to forget him. But I cannot be grieving him for the rest of my life.
Daddy, I wish I could said how much I loved you.
I love you. I miss you. I hope you watch over me and Mummy.
I want to offer my condolences to you and your family.
And I quietly pray that the universe gives you the strength and peace you need, whenever time allows you to breathe a little.
As I read your words, I could sense how you’re trying to hold on to him while also trying to keep life moving. It’s a lot. Handling his matters, your own commitments, and this grief that still feels raw. Anyone in your position would feel scared.
I hope to gently share, grieving isn’t about forgetting or staying sad forever. Grieving can be sad and it can be gentle too. Sad because the happiness, the routines, the warmth you once had can’t be lived the same way again. But also happy, in the sense that good memories, the ones you never had time to say out loud now become spaces you get to honour, appreciate, showing your gratitude and sharing them. Grief has a way of opening both of these at the same time.
For now, let the priority take things in small pieces. Let the grief arrive in waves. Let the routines feel strange for a while. Let yourself miss him in your own way. Life will catch up with you slowly, and you don’t have to get everything right immediately.
We can sit with you here. Please take care of yourself in all this.
There’s so many things that I want to say, yet I don’t even know what I want to put here. I loved him so much, and I still do, which is why I took it upon myself to handle his matters. However, it became clear to me that I couldn’t do it all by myself. I am so thankful of my friends and relatives who reached their hands out to me, allowing me to rest.
I just need the constant assurance that I won’t be grieving like this for the rest of my life, that the moment a memory of my father surfaces, I won’t immediately curl up and cry. That as life moves on, so will I, and that while I may not grieve him the same way I do now, I will always hold him dearly in my heart.
