A Song “ My precious….”
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Community : Story of Glory Hom)
Glory's Story,
Father's words,
After the Lord took Glory, daily routine sets in, back to normal. Just about when I am used to the daily schedule, all of a sudden, I realized this is only the beginning of an emotional overflow. Almost every time when I hop into my car, I think of her. Glory loved to drive. When she was six, she stole into the car and pretended to turn the steering wheel. The car was parked on a slope. The hand brake was not on, and it eventually slid backwards into the main street. As I watched the car moved and little Glory behind the wheel, I knew she was heading for danger. If a car should turn into our street, she would definitely be fatally hit. In no time, the car slid into the otherwise, relatively busy road. But at that moment, the road was surprisingly quiet. There were no cars around. However the car continued to slide, aiming towards the house across the street. We screamed, trying to stop the car before it ran into someone else’s home. Undoubtedly, someone would be fatally hurt. Just before the car struck the front door of the house, it was unexpectedly stopped by a steel cable near the door. This incident did not scare her away from driving. Before Glory reached 17, she officially took driving lessons. From after the first couple of lessons, to when she obtained her driver’s license, I took over and taught her. She learned quickly and drove well. It took her one road test to get her license. Many times she drove the 3 hours plus distance back to college while I dozed off. Maybe because I was very strict when I taught her, or maybe my scolding tone of voice was severe, her driving style was aggressive (what the Hong Kong people would term as ‘ a killer style’). She wanted to prove to me that a female driver was as good as a male driver. From riding a bike as a child, to bumper car, to driving the family car, she had never had an accident. Her dream was to have her own car and travel extensively with her friends. ”Make a Wish Foundation” is an organization granting wishes to cancer patients. When the organization promised to grant her a wish, a representative asked Glory what she would like to wish for. Her immediate reply was , ‘Can you grant me a car?’ Very politely, the representative explained that the organization could not grant requests of such nature for fear that the patient might be involved in a car accident while driving a car granted by the foundation.
Finally one day she received a ‘car’. The invoice showed a wheelchair over US$2000.00 . She was by no means excited. Instead, I sensed resentment. Indeed, she resisted the idea of using the wheelchair. Only those who love to drive, and especially those who love to race a car can truly understand this sentiment---to be speeding from one destination to another, to be in control of time and distance, to see images flying pass on either side of the car, to sense the satisfaction and excitement……only those who love to race a car would appreciate the feeling.
Glory loved to drive fast. Maybe in reality, she knew from the bottom of her heart that she might not have many days to live. Once behind the wheel, it was like racing with time. I understood her feeling. I did not mind at all paying off all her tickets for dashing a red light.
When she was first diagnosed with blood cancer, and suffered tremendously in the hospital. Her uncle promised to buy her a new car, to bring back to college.
That gave her a real boost, and she surfed the internet everyday for her dream machine. Unfortunately she did not make it to own her new car. Her uncle could only lay a model of her dream car in her coffin when she departed.
Today, I was driving on the same highway. In the past, when we were about to approach the hospital, I would bet with Glory which exit would bring us there the fastest. Today, I asked the same question, as though she was still in the car with me, but this time, there was no reply….
One evening, as usual, my wife was working in the hospital, so I randomly picked a restaurant in Chinatown. While eating dinner alone, lyrics from a song came from a television set behind me, ”…my precious, you suddenly appear before my eyes….”. My heart was severely pierced, as with a sharp knife. I swallowed my tears and left without finishing my dinner. We missed her a lot.
My wife dreamt of Glory twice. Even her school friends dreamt of her. But how come I have not? Not even once.
As I drove home that evening, I was on the same highway again. I asked Glory, ‘Which exit is faster?’…….no reply……she was gone.