Just Walking Beside Him—My Role as a Caregiver
When I look back at my caregiving journey, one thing was clear from the beginning:
I wasn’t there to control the outcome.
I was there to walk beside him.
My dad was a strong and independent man. Even after his diagnosis, he insisted on doing things for himself. And I respected that deeply.
I didn’t rush to take over.
I only stepped in when he really needed help.
Because dignity matters.
Slower Steps, Longer Walks
A simple walk to the supermarket used to take ten minutes. As he got weaker, that same trip stretched to almost fifty minutes.
He would stop and rest on the benches along the way. I didn’t fuss. I just sat beside him, checking my phone quietly, giving him space to catch his breath. When he was ready, we walked again.
We didn’t need to talk much.
Just being there was enough.
Simple Pleasures, Quiet Joy
Dad loved trying new food from the hawker centre. He’d go on his little adventures to look for something special, and I would wait for him to return, excited to share what he found.
I didn’t need to do everything for him.
And he didn’t expect me to.
He simply wanted a companion. Someone to share moments with.
Clear Role, Clear Mind
As the illness progressed, I reminded myself:
I am not here to fix things. I am here to accompany him.
I stayed clear-headed. I made sure he understood what the doctors were saying, so he could make his own decisions. I asked questions when needed, but I never made decisions for him.
He was in charge of his life, even during illness.
And I was there to honour that.
The Words That Meant Everything
One day, a close friend came to visit. My father told her,
“Hui Fang took very good care of me. If not, I would have left already.”
That moment still brings tears to my eyes.
It reminded me that love doesn’t always need grand gestures.
Just being there, gently, consistently—was enough.
In the next post, I’ll write about the final stages of this journey. The pain, the prayers, and what it meant to finally let go.