Tuesday 23rd December 2025
The title of today's entry is deliberately named after a very successful sitcom. Will explain why later.
I had previously blogged about the 3 women in my life, namely my mother, my wife and my daughter.
The focus of the next 2 posts will be about the 2 men in my life, namely my father and my son.
Growing up, I was never that close to my dad. He, being the sole breadwinner, had to focus on his career as a doctor to support his family of six. As a result, he left most of the responsibility of raising his 4 children to his wife.
Their contrasting parenting styles could not have been any starker.
Mom never laid a finger on any of her children; her way of getting us to be obedient was to guilt-trip us.
Dad was the traditional old-school disciplinarian; I myself (being a rather naughty and rebellious *PK) was on the receiving end of his rod numerous times until I lost count.
* PK = parishioner's (rather than pastor's) kid, but I was in a similar situation because of dad's senior role in church leadership. Many fellow churchgoers would refer to me as "Dr Michael Loh's son".
Being the only son was truly a double-edged sword. On the one hand, I was the typical "mummy's boy" and mom never hid the fact that I was her favourite child. Yet, on the other hand, being the only son of a medical doctor and church leader meant that from young already there was great societal pressure and expectations placed upon my tiny, puny shoulders to follow in what I had considered to be dad's mighty footsteps.
The biggest setback probably happened to him in late 1981, when I received my Sec 2 exam results. I was streamed out of the Pure Science classes, and with that went his hopes of me "taking over" his clinic someday.
As a result of this, I would keep a cold and safe distance from him, while on his part he would also invest lesser and lesser emotional time on the son who kept letting him down time after time...
It was only towards the latter years of his life (circa 1995 onwards) that our relationship started to improve. By then, he was already into his 60s, an established doctor, served the Methodist Church in Singapore at General Conference level as the TRAC Layleader, and had single-handedly supported all of his 4 children financially from the cradle to the day we donned our mortarboards as graduates from the local university. He had mellowed over the years, and was no longer that 40-something year-old version of himself that had a fiery temper and short fuse.
He was also about to embark on a new chapter in his life: grandfatherhood, which was a role I daresay he absolutely excelled in. My daughter and son (born in 1996 and 1997 respectively), were the first 2 of his 7 grandkids and he doted heavily on them.
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| dad, mom and their 7 grandkids |
Perhaps it was his way of compensating for the lack of time he spent with his own children, so he spoilt his grandchildren rotten, with my children being the primary beneficiaries since we were staying with him and mom under his roof. Every Wednesday afternoon (which was his weekday off), he and mom would take the grandkids out somewhere to enjoy themselves, be it to McRitchie Reservoir, or Botanic Gardens, or Waffletown (which was then located at the previous World Trade Centre).
But what I treasure most of all as I reflect upon my relationship with my dad was the "father-son bonding trip" that we went on just 3 days after he celebrated his 80th birthday in 2015.
As an avid golfer, dad's lifelong dream had been to play at St Andrew's in Scotland, which is considered to be the Home of Golf, because the rules and etiquettes of the game were first established at the Royal & Ancient ("R&A") of St Andrew's.
The corporation I was working for back then would organise annual incentive trips to different parts of the world to reward sales employees for achieving certain targets. A slot was also allocated to a senior admin employee to accompany their sales colleagues, and that admin staff was also allowed to bring along a family member.
In late 2014, when we were doing up the budget for 2015, I saw that the trip planned for was to Europe, so I sought permission from my then-boss Gerald to be that admin employee to go along for the trip, to which he readily and kindly agreed.
The destination was only finalised sometime in early 2015: 4 days and 3 nights in the Netherlands followed by a half day in Brugge, Belgium.
I excitedly told dad about it, and he agreed to join me for the trip! I spent the next 3 weeks planning the itinerary.
(1) While in Belgium, we would go to Brussels to visit the Belgian Comic Strip Museum to see the Smurfs, the favourite comic characters of his wife and his son;
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| dad under a sky of blue (Smurf characters) |
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| me below a mushroom, the dwelling place of a Smurf |
(2) We would then extend our trip by taking the train into the UK to stay a couple of nights with his sister Helen (who had emigrated and settled just outside of London) and also to catch up with his brother William;
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| dad and I catching up with his siblings and their families |
(3) While in London, we would rent a car to drive up to both Villa Park (the stadium of my favourite team Aston Villa) and Anfield (the stadium of his favourite team Liverpool);
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| dad and I at Villa Park |
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| dad and I at Anfield |
(4) After the 2 stadium tours, we would make our way further up north into Scotland to visit St Andrew's, the Home of Golf;
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| dad at the iconic Swilcan Bridge, 17th hole Old Course |
and finally,
(5) We would play an actual round of golf there.
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| dad and I played 18 holes at the Strathtyrum Course |
I thank God that my dad and I really bonded together during those 12 wonderful days, from 26 August to 6 September 2015. God literally used that trip to restore all the years the locusts had eaten.
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| windmills of our minds |
Such as this photo that Gerald took of us at Zaanse Schans (ie. Windmills Village) in Amsterdam.
If the background looks familiar, it is because of another photo taken at that exact same spot of dad doing the "two thumbs up". He used it as his WhatsApp profile picture.
We subsequently used that same photo for his wake, as a way of showcasing him celebrating life, all 90 years of it.
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| it is well with my soul |
For good measure, here are some other snapshots taken of our wonderful time together.
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| (not quite) tiptoeing through the tulips |
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| giant football to commemorate Netherlands winning their first Euro title |
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| dad and I took the Eurostar from Rotterdam to Brussels... |
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| ..and then from Brussels to London, via Lille, France |
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| dad and I in front of the Active Tourer rented from Sixt |
But what is even more awesome and amazing is that God will soon be repeating that same "modus operandi" of a "father-son bonding trip", some 10 years on from that very first one.
This will be for the next generation of the Loh men, namely my son and me! We will be heading to the UK from tomorrow until 31 December 2025.
So do stay tuned for Part 2 of Two and a Half Men!
