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 My trip to Dublin was a long overdue one. It was originally planned for mid September last year but was postponed for the obvious reason. Then the haunt of the very long and tiring flight, coupled with excuses of not finding the right time because of family and work commitments etc., kept on delaying the trip. When Theresa returned from Dublin after Christmas, she told me she would visit Father Deane again during Easter time. I knew I have to make up my mind to pay Father a visit. So off I went a week after Easter. Theresa had already gone two weeks ahead of me. The flight from Sydney to Dublin via Singapore took more than twenty-four hours. Thanks to the sleeping pills prescribed by Ben Lau, I managed to have ten hours sleep on the plane and arrived at Dublin in good shape.
Dublin is a serene and beautiful city very much like Auckland of New Zealand. During my three days of visit there, the weather was warm and sunny during the day but rather chilly (5º to 6ºC) at night. I spent most of the time with Father together with Theresa, going in and out of the St. Joseph's Centre everyday to accompany him and bringing him out for Chinese meals on two occasions (one lunch and one dinner). For me, the visit turned out to be a sort of retreat from the hustles and bustles of my daily routines back home.
Father's condition looked much improved from what was previously reported by his earlier visitors. He was more alert and relaxed, carrying a glimpse of smile from time to time. Earlier in the day when he was more sober and not under the influence of medication, he was able to comprehend most of the conversation and responded clearly in short words and phrases, sometimes in Cantonese. When we took him out, he could even recognize and name the places we visited. Getting in and out of the car was a big exercise for both himself and his escorts, but Father was more than happy to endure the trouble and enjoyed every moment of his outing. Although handicapped by his Parkinson disease, he was still mentally sharp and alert, even though at times he was annoyed and frustrated by his difficulty in expressing himself, especially when he was under the influence of medication. Definitely Father was not a sick man as would be mistaken by a casual observer. It would take one patience, love and empathy to comprehend and appreciate his feelings and responses and to establish some form of meaningful communication with him, be it an exchange of simple words, a pat on the shoulder or just a touch of hands.
 
Life in the nursing home could be dull and depressing as many of the patients are affected by diseases of some kind. They often look at visitors earnestly for attention and care, hoping that they would stop by to spend some time with them, even just holding their hands. Visitors indeed are a very important source of mental stimulant and support to them. Father was very fortunate to have the daily company of his carer who not only provides him with physical care but also personal interaction and friendship. Despite the very long distance, which takes them three hours (return) by car, Chris and Bosco visit Father every week and take him out for Chinese meal from time to time. Then there are also Father's sister, Eileen, and Father Foster, who visit him once every few weeks. Overseas visitors like Theresa and other old boys are amongst those whom he most anxiously looks forward to and he surely enjoys and misses every moment of our stay. Over the years, Father had gradually adapted himself to life at the nursing home. I found that when he was a bit depressed, he would listen to the psychotherapy cassette sent to him by Ben Lau or the songs sung and record by Bernard Yim and Theresa. Indeed photos, tapes and messages from the old boys will do wonders for Father and keep his spirit up.
When it was time for me to say goodbye to Father, there was a tinge of sadness in his voice and in his eyes. I managed to hold back my emotion to keep the atmosphere easy and delight for I know I will come back to see Father again.
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