Robby Pho, was born on 27 May 1947, in Indonesia, off the small town of Sorong in West Papua, on an even smaller island called Doom Island, also known as Pulau Doom.

But nothing about Robby was small. He was a big man with a big heart, big appetite, big family, big circle of friends, and left us all a big legacy.

My father was schooled mostly in Singapore, having attended De La Salle Primary school, followed by St Joseph’s Institution for secondary school.

Since he held a Dutch Passport, my amah decided to send him to Europe, London to study in junior college, and made many good friends, especially those he shared an apartment with. My father never went to university and was not a graduate, but he attended the school of hard knocks, and was educated with the many lessons life presented him. He seized opportunities when they presented themselves, and faced life with zeal and gusto.

From Singapore, he returned to the Indonesian jungles to start his oil and gas business.

During one of his many trips to Indonesia, he met Hong Ling, and after only one month of dating, he proposed!

They were married within 6 months, and later had 2 sons and a daughter, Roger, Rosalind and myself.

Robby may seem to have a tough exterior, but those who know him well, know how soft hearted he is. Even while watching TV, whether it was a touching movie, or even during a medal ceremony during the Olympic games, he would be the first to start sobbing and shedding tears.

Most of you know that Robby passed away because of colon cancer,

but more importantly, I want you to know that he never suffered any pain. It was some 2 years ago when Robby was first diagnosed with cancer, but that didn’t stop him from embracing life. He was still very active at work, and I had to convince him that the business was in good hands and he should go travel and enjoy life instead. Robby’s oncologist mentioned, that he never had a cancer patient, who managed to lead such a full life.Just 2 weeks ago, despite him getting weaker day by day, he decided to attend a classical concert to watch maestro Andre Rieu with Uncle Eddie, Auntie Debbie, and my mom on his wheelchair. After the concert, worrying Robby would be too tired, everyone wanted to rush home, but instead, my dad said:“Let’s go to Newton Circus for supper, and grab some hokkien mee!”

Last year, amidst his cancer chemotherapy, Robby threw a big party where he turned 66, which was also a celebration of my parents’ 35th wedding anniversary.

In the past year, he still travelled to Tanzania with Uncle Eddie and Dr Teh, USA to visit family and friends,

Jakarta for the grand opening of our new Jakarta office, and also Hong Kong to celebrate Chinese New Year with my mom’s family.

This just adds to his long list of exotic places he’s been to such as Egypt, Alaska, Tibet and even Syria. But no matter where he went, he always made it a point to visit family, because close family ties was something he held dearly in his heart.

Over the last few weeks, and especially these last few days, hundreds of people came to visit Robby – in our home, at the hospital, and here in this church at his wake and funeral. Many also flew in from all across the world, from Indonesia, Hong Kong, Australia, and even further places such as Holland and the USA. The sheer number of people who have come to pay respects to Robby, is testament to his character and friendship.

Even with his cancer, my dad always told others that he was doing okay, and that he was fine. He never really let Cancer hold him back. He would try to make the best of everything, often cracking jokes. Even during the visits to the hospital, having lost his hair from chemotherapy, my dad would wear a hat with fake dyed hair just to make the nurses laugh.

I have here a quote by Nicky Gumbel, one of my brother Roger’s favorite priest, and it describes what my father was like.

As I look around the room, I see many familiar faces, but I also see many unfamiliar faces too. Robby was many things to us, but whether you met him once a year, or once a week, he always left us with a lasting impression.To some, he was a friend, golf kaki, a fellow band member, a travel companion, a drinking buddy, a boss, a party host. He was also a nephew, a cousin, an uncle, a brother, a doting husband and of course a loving father.

He was away in Jakarta a lot for work, but he was never an absent father as he would call home often to ask how we were, and when he came back, it would always be focused on family.

Roger always said that my dad taught him a lot, exposed him to the world, never held him back and exposed him to realities in life. Both Roger and my dad both played the guitar and shared their deep passion for music.

He taught Ros to grow up to be independent as a strong female, helped develop her love for acting and movies, to chase her dreams, but also to remember the value of strong family ties.

And as for me; In 2008, when my dad had to go for an urgent heart valve replacement, I quit my banking job and joined the family business full time. It’s been 6 years now and I am very glad I made the decision to work for my dad. He’s taught me a tremendous amount, especially in terms of respect, integrity, and caring for people.

As a husband, Robby has been a great provider of joy and happiness to my mom, but he knows that my mom is truly his pillar of strength and he would be lost without her. I recently suggested that my dad could stay in hospital for just a night, so that my mom could get a good night’s rest, my mom said :” what’s the point? In the end Dad will want me to stay overnight with him anyway. “ My dad could only laugh and reply, “you know me too well”.

Robby was always a great host. Robby always opened our home to others. Last night, many friends and family flew in from overseas, and we have almost 20 people staying at our house, sleeping on mattresses on the floor in the living room, crammed in the bedrooms, and it looks like one big refugee camp, but that’s my family for you. Whether it was to visit Singapore for a holiday, or someone seeking long-term medical treatment in Singapore, our home was always open.

Robby was a kind wonderful man. A man who could be brought to tears by lyrics of a sad song, a really really great father and husband, loved deeply by his 3 kids and wife. My sister Rosalind chose a poem by Henry Scott Holland, also known as the original flying Dutchman.

Death Is Nothing At All

Death is nothing at all.

I have only slipped away to the next room.

I am I and you are you.

Whatever we were to each other,

That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.

Speak to me in the easy way

which you always used.

Put no difference into your tone.

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed

at the little jokes we enjoyed together.

Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.

Let it be spoken without effect.

Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.

It is the same that it ever was.

There is absolute unbroken continuity.

Why should I be out of mindbecause I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.

For an interval. Somewhere. Very near.

Just around the corner.

All is well.

- Henry Scott Holland

Dad, we love you very much, and you will always live in our hearts forever and ever.