I never saw my father home from work late or ill, nor did I ever see my father take a “night out with the boys.” He had no hobbies but just take care of his family.
For 22 years, since I left home for college, my father called me every Sunday at 9:00am. He was interested in my life--how my family was doing. The calls even came when he and my mother in Australia, England or Florida.
Nine years ago when I bought my first house, my father, 67 years old, spent eight hours for three days, painting my house. He would not allow me to pay someone to have it done. All he asked was a glass of iced tea, and that I hold a paintbrush for him and talk to him. But I was too busy, and I could not take the time to hold the paintbrush, or talk to my father.
Five years ago, my 71-year-old father spent five hours putting together a swing set(秋千) for my daughter. Again, all he asked was that I get him a glass of iced tea, and talk to him. But again, I had laundry(要洗的衣服) to do, and the house to clean. The morning on Sunday, January 16, 1996, my father telephoned me as usual, this time he had seemed to have forgotten something we had discussed the week before .I had to get to church, and I cut the conversation short.
The call came at 4:40 a.m. That day my father was sent to hospital in Florida. I got on a plane immediately, and I vowed (发誓)that when I arrived, I would make up for the lost time, and have a nice long talk with him and really get to know him. I arrived in Florida at 1:00 a.m. but my father had passed away at 9:12 p.m. This time it was he who did not have time to talk, or time to wait for me.
In the years since his death I have learnt much about my father and even more about myself. As a father, he never asked me for anything but my time. Now he has all my attention, every single day.
