Lee Wei Ling's in the Sunday Times today. Non-subscribers can click here to read. |
Wei Ling is currently on a 16-day world trip with her father. Since her mother passed away last year, she has increasingly taken on the role of her father's companion, often accompanying him on his overseas trips. She keeps an eye on him, to make sure he doesn't over-stress himself with back-to-back meetings and official functions. In a sense, she is now her father's care-giver.
As Wei Ling puts it, "Even for a healthy and fit man of 88, the above would be a formidable programme. For a recently widowed man who is still adjusting to the loss of his wife, and whose level of energy has been lowered, it is even more challenging."
So far, the travel itinerary has included meetings at the White House and a ceremony in LKY's honour where he received the Lincoln Medal - the first Asian to do so. In Wei Ling's column last Sunday, she wrote about the numerous awards and titles that have been conferred on her father. Among them is the prestigious British award of Companion of Honour and the Grand Cross of St Michael and St George that entitles LKY to be addressed as Sir Lee Kuan Yew. But to all and sundry, even the media, he is still referred to as Mr Lee Kuan Yew. He himself has never made use of his titles.
What a stark contrast to the dignitaries and VIPs in Malaysia who expect to be addressed by their titles of Tun, Tan Sri, Datuk, Dato, Datin Paduka or whatever.
Wei Ling ends her thoughts about her father on a rather poignant note.
"But I am getting maudlin. Both my father and I have had our fair share of luck, and fate has not been unfair to us. My father found a lifelong partner who was his best friend and his wife. Together with a small group of like-minded comrades, he created a Singapore that by any standards would be considered a miracle. He has led a rich, meaningful and purposeful life.
Growing old and dying occurs to all mortals, even those who once seemed like titanium. When all is said and done, my father - and I too, despite my bouts of ill health - have lived lives that we can look back on with no regrets. As he faces whatever remains of his life, my father's attitude can be summed up by these lines in Robert Frost's poem 'Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening':
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
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