Of Fathers and Sons

Very often, our sense of self, who we are is validated by externalities; By the amount of wealth we've amassed, by the educational qualifications we possess, by the social credentials we hold, by the car we own, by the house we live in, by the material possessions we own, by the people we know.

Rarely do we find those who validate us for the beliefs we uphold, the values we keep close, for the simplicity that is our own personality. If we do, we are blessed. Society certainly doesn't acknowledge those.

I rarely speak about my parents and certainly less about my father - to both friends and strangers alike. It's a topic I'd rather avoid. But with the passing of years, I've been thinking more not just of mortality but of their influence in my life.

If I've anything to thank my father for, apart from providing the material needs that I've hoarded in these past decades of my life, I have to thank him for the simple lessons that he has showed - by action, by example.

As a child, my friends always tied my identity with that of being my father's child - "he is Mr Tan's, Director of XXX, son." At times I felt pleased and at a tender age when one lack a definite identity, it was satisfying - certain to say the least. But as I grew older, I also grew to dislike the association.

My father's a stern, principled and quiet man who rarely says anything. We've never had a conversation like other fathers and sons do. But in that silence and in the little things he showed and taught I have grown to become the person I am. And one of the most valuable lessons he has ever taught - without saying a word - was that one needs to carve a destiny for himself, with his own hands. My father has never once used his credentials to get me ahead (apart from helping me fill up those jogathon cards with the names of his staff members!). Everything that I have today - every 'credential' I can attach to my name, my ethic of hardwork, my fierce independence, my love for learning - has been a consequence of my father's silent example and 'inaction' (strangely enough). He has always allowed me to make me own decisions in life, to bear the consequences of my own actions, to suffer the pain, and learn, from my own failures.

We don't share very much in common - apart from an uncanny similarity in mood and personality. We don't talk very much either. But I have almost everything to thank him for. And as I unwittingly noticed his greying hair, a fear struck me - a fear I've not pondered very much on before though it's always been in the recesses of my mind. Some day, he will be gone.

"It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was." ~ Anne Sexton