The past 24 hours have been crazy – a case of reel life turned real.
What would you do if your Dad left behind a suicide note to the family and disappeared?
So many thoughts and feelings ran through our heads, as we had to deal with the calls and queries from the Police, as well as concerned friends and members of the Press – all while trying to locate a potentially suicidal missing man, with no form of contact, money or ID on him. He could be anywhere. Or already dead. And we had no idea where to start.
We searched the immediate vicinity, some of his usual haunts, as well as other less familiar places. We are literally grasping at straws. But as Daylight waned, so our Hopes diminished.
“Well, it might be easier to find him at night since he’d have to rest somewhere.” If he were still alive, I thought, bracing myself for the imaginable worst.
Within the span of a few hours, we had gone through a whole chaotic gamut of emotions from anxiety, to anger, to fear, remorse. And always, an underlying, undying bit of Hope.
“I think he’s still alive. If he were dead, someone would have reported it by now.” This was Singapore, after all, where reporting things were somewhat of a National past-time. Heartened, we quickened our search.
By about 6am the next day, we were living zombies.
Crashing for about 2 hours, we woke up to resume the search. It was already the next day, and the Social Media community in Singapore had really rallied together to help disseminate whichever bits of information came in. Some of the papers ran stories on both their print and online portals. I don’t like exposing private, family matters to the masses if I could help it, but between saving face or saving my Dad – the decision was clear. And indeed, I am very Thankful and Grateful for everyone who chipped in to help in their own way.
Encouraged and renewed by the fact that so many people had rallied around us, we set out again with renewed confidence. The Police too, had been working hard through the night. Good news was, there were still no John Doe cases at the hospitals. This morning, we were finally able to gain access to previous day’s CCTV footage and actually managed to spot my Dad and got a pretty clear screenshot of his last-seen outfit.
We had a rather large search party by now, consisting of friends and relatives. Even friends whom we’d hardly kept in contact with came forth to offer their help, whether to help cover certain areas or help with transportation since they knew we’d been searching all through the night. Some had even taken the day off just to help us. With this system in place, we decided to comb the various parks – figuring that Dad might have gone there to revisit happier times with Mum.
Sometime in the afternoon, Mum suddenly called. She sounded tired and worn out, and her voice trembled lightly when she spoke. I was almost ready to expect the worst. “Dad called. He’s at Woodlands.”
Relief flooded my being. At least he was alive. That’s all that mattered.
We all zoomed towards Causeway Point from our respective locations. Mid-way, a friend’s girlfriend sent a photo of a man sitting on the steps, with weary, slumped shoulders, head clasped in his hand.
It was him. Dad.
Mum and my brother reached him first, so we decided to regroup at home.
They say the Hour before Dawn is the Darkest. It is true.
But throughout this whole ordeal, we have experienced and felt the love and concern from friends, family, and many members of the Singaporean public who have stepped forward to help. Your thoughts and prayers helped to keep us going.
From the bottom of my heart, Thank You for being here with us. May you be Blessed greatly in return.
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