By Joe Guo
Photo by Hsiao Yiu-hwa
A fleeting gesture between father and daughter left a lasting memory of love.
My 83-year-old father, who for many years had been the steady pillar of our family, needed surgery to remove a benign tumor. He was expected to stay in the hospital for about six days.
In the past, whenever Dad was hospitalized, Mom, now 80, was always by his side, tending to his every need. But six months earlier, she began showing signs of dementia. This time, she could no longer take on the role she had so lovingly fulfilled for decades.
My siblings and I took turns filling her place. I took a few days off from my job in the city to care for him. As I sat beside him, an unexpected sadness welled up. This man, always a rock of stability, now seemed so vulnerable. Seeing him in this state made me painfully aware of how much time had passed and how little we might have left. Tears came to my eyes as I fought to keep my composure, not wanting to sadden him as well.
The next day, it was time to leave and hand my caregiving duties over to my older sister. Afraid my voice might betray me, I kept my farewell short: “Take care, Dad.”
He reached out, his hand enveloping mine in a tight, firm squeeze. In that brief touch, I could feel the weight of his emotions. It was as if he, too, was afraid to speak, worried his voice might break. Though no words were exchanged, that squeeze said everything—his gratitude, his love, and perhaps a touch of guilt that I had taken time from my busy job to care for him.
On the train ride back to the city, the dam holding back my emotions finally broke. I turned toward the window and quietly wiped my tears away, hoping no one would notice. An elderly couple sat beside me, their eyes closed, giving me the privacy I needed to let my heart ache. I found myself clinging to the hope that things could stay the same forever, despite knowing that life is impermanent. Even in the midst of my tears, I could still feel the lingering warmth of my father’s hand.
It was then I realized something important: Even a single moment can hold an eternity. That tight squeeze expressed more than any words ever could. It was a precious gift—not something tangible, but a reminder that even as time takes away the people we love, it can never erase the bonds we have formed. Those memories, etched deep in our hearts, remain untouched.
Life moves forward. One day my father’s road will narrow to its end. But when that time comes, I hope to carry with me not the heavy grief of parting, but the simple, powerful memory of his hand holding mine—a reminder that love, in its purest form, never vanishes.
