忌日

Visited the graveyard of my father on Sunday - it is exactly 20 years after he RIP.

My memory of him has faded. He worked for the Royal Navy and did not spend much time in the family. Ironically all I could remember of him is a family man: He prepared delicious and complicated dishes (when he was at home), and quite a few of the furniture in our home were his own handicrafts.

And he was a shrewd critic of Chinese history, with a strong distaste for dictatorship and communism.

As a naval officer, he travelled a lot - from Singapore to Cyprus, and from Norway to Falkland Islands. (Yes, he was in the front line of the battle in 1982, and we still keep the precious medal he earned from the war.) Those were the difficult days when we counted on every penny, but he promised to bring my mum to visit the Harold's one day.

Alas, that's the rare occasion where he could not fulfill a promise.

Maybe I should take it up.

PS. I could still remember hearing the radio broadcasting the 1980's classic <人在旅途灑淚時> during the funeral - hope he could lead a happy life and make the full use of his talent in the other world.