Of The Man Who Gave Me Life…

Published by eGal | Filed under Love

I came to this world 26 years ago. He came to this world 51 years ago. I hardly knew him. He was someone whom I had once looked up to, someone who gave me life, someone who had loved me, someone whom I had loved…someone who had passed on this June 21st. He was someone I called Dad. HE was MY DAD…

1. ^{He drank Guiness Stout and sniffed that green colour medicated oil. It smelt nice.}
2. ^{He worked as a Crane Operator for as long as I can remember. Thus, he got this real dark tan.}
3. ^{He used to work as a chef on board a ship long time ago.}
4. ^{He limped due to a motorbike accident long time ago. I don’t recall when was that.}
5. ^{He talked very little and had a weird sense of humour.}
6. ^{He gave us our pocket money, including Mum’s.}
7. ^{He was an M.C.P., never allowed Mum to go out and work but Mum always had her ways.}
8. ^{He loved Mum although they were always quarrelling.}
9. ^{He had a corner in our big living room where his table was and that’s where we pick up our pocket money.}
10. ^{He used to buy us supper very frequently when I was a few years old and durians.}
11. ^{He was one of the 4 guys whom I have been on a motorbike with. I must have been younger than 10 years old then.}
12. ^{He played mahjong on weekend with his friends at their place.}
13. ^{He never allows us to eat food with preservatives such as hot dogs, crabsticks, etc. He always make a fuss whenever he caught us eating those.}
14. ^{He was a charmer in his younger days, so said Mum. I thought he was…all along.}
15. ^{He was someone whom I hate at around 6pm almost everyday when I was like 5 years old onwards. Cos he will, at the cartoon primetime, summon me into the kitchen to watch and learn him cook.}
16. ^{He was someone whom I had to thank for my wonderful cooking skills.}
17. ^{He was very method in the kitchen, like a real chef, as compared to Mum who is “All-In”.}
18. ^{He was the only one whom I ever saw flipping a whole wok of fried rice and none fell out of place.}
19. ^{He had 15 other siblings.}
20. ^{He had a daughter and 2 sons, one of which really resembled him.}
21. ^{He was someone whom me and my best friend had played a prank on before when I was 15 by frying him a plate of very, very, very hot fried rice and he ate it all up with no complains or scoldings.}
22. ^{He was the only one who has every asked me: “Do you know why do we have to fry the egg first?”.}
23. ^{He was someone whom had a lot of photos taken but yet, I have none! I had to search through my mum’s stacked away boxes for this marriage photo. I don’t even have a complete family photo.}

My memories of my Dad has never been any fader. I realised for a couple of years now that I kept repeating certain memories that I had cherished between us. Memories that I longed to relive, memories that are no longer present when hate consumed it 10 years ago when my parents divorced, when he had a new family, when he abandoned me.

For 10 years, I have been hating my Dad, he has destroyed everything I ever had in life – a family, my brothers, my life. I just don’t want to have anything to with him at all although I am very sure that I have everything to do with him. The only time I ever saw him in these 10 years were when:

Year 2000: I bumped into him at Upper Thomson, when I met a colleague to have a Sunday breakfast at a dim sum restuarant there. A place our family used to frequent every Sunday since I was like 10 years old. When I saw him, it was a very awkard moment. After he walked on, with his son (my step-brother), I can’t help but turn and look at him from behind. He had aged alot. His hair was white. I cried.

Year 2005: The funeral of my Grandfather. He had aged again. I was only at the funeral for 10 minutes. My Dad helped me to pin the mourning piece on me. The same year, my Mum told me that my Dad had contracted Nose Cancer. I did not have the courage to care for him. My Mum can’t talk me round. I was very stubborn.

Year 2006: Mum called to say that Dad was hospitalised. I had arranged with my Mum to go visit him after work. I fell sick with a bad flu and high fever, will not be able to get into the hospital. By the time, I was well, he was discharged. I came to recognise that this kind of act is called a clearing.

At the same year on June 21st, I saw him, on his deathbed…Why didn’t I tell him that I was able to forgive him which I did, I just did not wanted to admit it! After a course I had gone to, I told my mum I love her. Why didn’t I, then, have the courage to tell that to my dad? I almost fainted on that very day. I was lost. He was gone. For the next couple of days, there was no strength. Tears flow everytime I went to talk to him at the funeral. It was only until the 3rd day of the funeral that I cleared everything with him that I felt better. It may sound eerie to some but not to me, HE was MY DAD…the man who gave me life…