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For the love of durian!

My father passed away, from complications due to covid, on 31 October. It was unexpected as we had thought he was getting better. We were lucky to have all been able to make it back for the funeral and also to do his eulogy as a collective. I wanted to post it our writing, and although slightly outside of the remit of this space, this was where I thought it fit best.

ANNA SULAN MASING
Thank you everyone for being here with us today. It is with great honour that we speak and tell you about our father, and what he meant to us. Dad read vicariously. Everything, from spy novels to historical non-fiction and philosophical texts. He was a strong believer in education, but more to the point he was a believer in learning, of constantly gaining knowledge. This is of course seen in his political life, and in all is work. But for me, it is so clearly demonstrated in the way he encouraged us kids to live our lives, to go out into the world and explore, seek our own paths – and to have adventure.

This of course comes with risks, both Ashley and I at 5 years old - 16 years apart - both told him he talked too much mid speech at a political function (this made him laugh, and he thoroughly agreed with us!). And our family WhatsApp messages could get lively as we all discussed topics. He always listened to each of our perspectives, especially when they disagreed with his.

Family was everything to him, he was everyone's uncle or Akik – family was his joy, and he always wanted to know what we were doing, and that we were looking after each other, above all.

To me this was about how he was always looking to the future – always seeing things with positivity, having a vision.. And always with so much joy. My dad is an inspiration, I know he is essential to everything I have become and will be, and I know he was and will continue to be an inspiration to so many.

Mostly, I will remember the quiet times. Sitting and reading together, having a tea before dinner, on the veranda. Eating durian, always eating durian! I will miss his photos of all the animals on the farm, the new birds he got – to note, they were always blurry photos, Dad has many talents but focused photos is not one of them (luckily for the Instagram influencers of the world!). He was also one of the funniest people I know, his sense of humour was second to none!

RACHEL LIAN MASING
I will always remember Dad for the softness of his heart. There are 5 of us children and he never seemed to run out of patience to show us his love. He would call us each Sweetheart and put his hand on our shoulder and bend his head to listen to what each one was saying, with so much interest, and would often respond with a chuckle to what we said. I think we all loved to make him laugh. Even as we made our way back to Kuching this time around, so sad not to be greeted by Dad, we could still imagine the parts of our journey that would have made a good story to tell him and I feel like I can hear how he would have reacted. He would have laughed and said: "Really?! Ah, my goodness" and come back with another joke to make us laugh in turn.

I feel so sad that he's gone too soon. As he loved his kids, he loved my sons, his grandsons too. I remember when Nico was a baby and Dad would take him on little walks to keep him occupied while we ate out for dinner – a doting grandfather, never too busy for Akik duties! There are memories burned in my head of him, walking through the trees at his beloved farm, showing Nico and Sami the rubber trees, the pond, the animals. It is amazing what memories they still hold from the time they spent with him – I wish so, so much that there could have been more.

Dad was someone I think we all aspired to be. His life an incredible story of persistence, determinism, intellect. He instilled in us the power of an education. He made us all promise to take care of each other. He showed us work ethic and commitment like no other. He taught us to love books. I am sure like all dads, he had his own dreams about what we would do with our lives but he never made us feel that we were doing anything other than making him proud.

I can see him now, in his happy moments, in the comfort of home or at the farm, with his family around him. I can hear his voice, his breathing. The image of him is so strong and I don't want it to fade. We loved to laugh about Dad and with Dad. And I want to continue to do that because he would hate to see us sad. He would be so happy that all us kids are back here together and here to be with Indai Karen, to look after each other. And for the rest of our lives, without Dad, I want to remember him with a smile and a laugh and a joke.
We love you so much Dad. We miss you too much. Be safe, be in peace and watch over us all. As you looked after all of us so well in life, we are counting on you to look after us still.

ASHLEY LAYO MASING
When planning our rushed journey back home, I was corresponding with my father's secretary, Lin, regarding plane tickets and travel documents, and in a slip through all of our hazy thoughts, she referred to me in text accidentally as his title, Tan Sri. From that moment I've been thinking a lot about full circles, and how so many moments in my father's life had touch point with mine. I think back to the story of how he had lost his own father whilst at university in a faraway country, and how he struggled to find his way back home to pay his respects and say goodbye. And in a strange twist of fate the same thing happened to me. Then I started thinking more and more about what home means. The house I grew up in was the house my father saw himself raising a family in. I used to think the older I got, the smaller the house would feel as my body adjusts to its size. But in the past few days, the converse has happened - this place feels so much bigger than I remember it. It feels haunted but in a good way I think; I see my father's ghost lingering in the books he keeps by the office, in the now empty dinner chair he sits at, in the wedding ring and cellphone he's left behind. His spirit is scattered into a tiny million things all sparkling in different places that I've only started noticing now. This place doesn't feel like hone anymore but at the same time it feels more at home than it ever did. And what a strange full circle moment it is to be in the position he was when he lost his own father. I'd like to think that maybe his spirit lingers around me the same way it lingers around our house, in a way, I carry home with me wherever I go.

EMMA MARIA MASING
It is the small things that I will miss: The way I would call for him when it was dinner time, the silence we shared at the farm whilst we drank coffee, the cheesy action movies that I would put on for him which he always fell asleep to, the way he came to mind when I watched an interesting documentary or picked up a good book.

I miss his smile and his scratched up glasses he would always complain about but still wear cause he couldn't find the other pair. The looks he would give us from afar that I pretend I don't notice as to not embarrass him.

I remember his laughter and the shake of his head when my jokes went a little too far from his comfort but the one phrase I will remember the most is 'I love you kids'.

KAREN JULAN MASING
My father was not the type who always expressed his emotions, but never a second in my life have I ever doubted his love for me. Perhaps the more obvious moments when he was trying to show his love were those times when he deliberately waited up for me when I had a late night out.

Whenever I hang out late with my friends and reached home late, he was always seated at the living room near my room watching TV. When he saw me coming back home, he would hold my hands and hugged me and said goodnight.

During those times, I wasn't quite sure whether he was intentionally waiting up for me, but now, I am quite certain, that was what he was doing, under the pretext of watching TV.

Between my dad and I, we had our silly moments and we joked around. We made silly photos (I remembered when he had an important meeting on zoom, he had to wear my pink colour headset) and tiktok videos together. He would allow me to take videos of him with goofy expressions and we would later watch the video and laugh together. My mom would scold me for bullying him but that's okay because then he would later tease me and make sure I have fun.

Thinking back now, I want to thank him for leaving me with so many fond memories, which I can cherish for the rest of my life.

End of January, I happened to return to Sarawak and the only one who is here in Sarawak. So we spent a lot of time together and guess where he had been bringing me? Yes, to longhouses in Baleh and also other constituencies which I could not remember, like when I was little. He did this to me when I was young and he did the same to me, now that I have grown up.

He being so proud of his works, had showed me what he had done — the bridges, roads, Baleh HEP, Lily Pond in Kapit, boring, right? But he was proud, not because it was a project done, rather, he was proud because the people get to enjoy all these basic facilities.

One thing I noticed whenever we went to the interiors was that - people were always eager to meet him and their faces brightened up when they saw him. And the feeling was mutual, when he met them, it was like a father meeting his children, he would listen to them and find out what they needed. And whatever he could do to help, he would. And whatever he couldn't, he would be very frank with them.

To my dad, education is most important for us and for the rest of Sarawakians. For us, he made sure each one of us had the highest education. He didn't care what we took in our studies as long as we have the best education.

For others, he had been silently helping so many families with their children's education. He quietly supported them with financial aid, sometimes, even out of his own pockets. There was no publicity because my dad did not believe in highlighting such personal contributions.

I understand that my dad was known to be a man outspoken in issues affecting all communities. He was never a coward in speaking out his mind. And I believe that it is his hope that other Dayaks will continue his legacy of being bold and sincere in raising issues and the needs of the Dayak community.

On behalf of my family, I would like to extend my deepest gratitude to family members, friends and relatives, YAB Chief Minister Datuk Patinggi Abang Johari Tun Openg, the Sarawak Cabinet, Parti Rakyat Sarawak leaders and supporters, for your presence and help during this hour of bereavement and grief. We also want to thank you all for your unwavering camaraderie for my dad when he was alive.

Before I end my sharing, I would like to leave with you a favourite quote of my dad — "If you love me, I will always remember you in my heart, If you help me, I will always remember you in my mind."

Comments

  1. My condolences to you and your family, While i haven’t had The pleasure of knowing your father, i could gather from your writing that he is truly a monumental person, a protector, nurturer and a loving father.

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