A Father’s Day Special: a Exquisite Story of a Gallant Dad Who Left Unforgettable Marks
There is a storey we all cherished to hear as kids, and that was the one about how my brave Dad got his face covered with scars. I will narrate to you the storey at the finish of this tribute, a tribute to the greatest dad a daughter could ever have. His death at the early age of fifty four came as a shock specially when his appointment for the infirmary was to have a plaster cast removed only to bring him dead in the waiting room.
Although our his death was sudden, the fondest of memories still held a powerful presence in my head for twenty-six years. If I could turn the clock back – I would tell him how sorry I was for the times I took him for granted but unfortunately that remorse will be brought to my grave where I know being the good man that he was will be waiting for me at the pearly gates with open arms full of forgiveness.
The thought that solaced me and helped still the resentment I felt was the one that goes “the good die young”.Why are dads remarkable – why is my dad more extraordinary than all other dads, simply because people picture the word special in many diverse ways. So what do I see different in dad that makes him so special?
Dad and his Fathers Day Gifts served thirty-four years in the army but trouble was brewing up on communist day in Hong Kong where dad was placed. It was the sound of alarm bells that prompted the evacuation into motion for the folks living outside the barracks to come back to the camp straightaway.
Eight of us were clustered into the back of a 3 ton army wagon with pillows for protection and ordered to keep our heads down of which we obeyed – the Chinese mob appeared from the entrenches that lined the route, armed with all forms of arms – 21 stones got in the wagon as we headed toward the camp.
The convoy that travelled along now stood as burning wrecks.If a battery of boulders were lunged into the back of the wagon – just what kind of state was the front of that vehicle in and that of the driver. Army officers didn’t give a medal of bravery to the driver. The reason why was because he should not have been driving at the time, so all the pats on the back went to the wrong man sitting up front.
Until now, I still wonder if we could have survived that day were it not for the drivers who broke the rules in order to preserve us.
The result of that dreadful day was a truck with no windshield, a driver with no face and 8 people who lived to recount the story. Now, you know the reason why the marks on my father’s face scarred us for life.
