Papa
Comments(4) Many have observed how my family takes photos standing without touching each other (Winni describes it as the “sedia!” (at attention) position), which suggests the kind of family knit-ness in my home.
Family pic 2005, Family pic @ YEF 2005, Family pic 2007
(Hey there’s an improvement over the years, now both older members stand in the “senang diri” (at ease) position)
The two young members may have grown wider but that sure didn’t fill up the space between each other in the most recent family picture.
My father has been the underappreciated family glue all these years, maintaining the household by keeping it functional, and helping the other members stay civil to each other. He always encourages and never puts undue pressure on us for our studies or any other aspect (can’t say the same for my mother); and silently takes in our tempers and never raises his voice just to gain ground (can’t say the same for his wife).
He does what he does for the household uncomplainingly: the laundry, the ironing, the cooking, the cleaning, and even ringing every single button of my brother’s Catholic High School uniform during our conformity days. He prepared breakfast for us every morning before waking us, and even carried me from my bed to the kitchen chair during the good old days when I wasn’t so sizeable. He would then drive us to school, and return home to wake my mother, and placed oranges on the table to remind her to pray whenever it was the first or fifteenth day of the lunar calendar (even though he’s a Christian). Now he even leaves notes to make sure nobody gets locked out of the house by accident.
During those car rides to school, he would fill us up with Chinese proverbs, his philosophies of life, or interesting anecdotes of his life as a police officer. Sometimes he would try to teach us the facts of life but never prodded into our personal lives. Now in the very limited occasions we sit together in the car or over a meal he continues to fill our ignorant minds with current affairs.
My father never probes into my private life, other than to check on the fundamentals such as whether I have enough cholesterol and liver medication to last my semester abroad, hoping my diet agrees with my cholesterol level, and if my bowel movements are normal. He may ask a little here and a bit more there, but stops himself the moment he senses irritation.
We can always count on my father for help. I recall how he would help do my brother’s projects, and makes sure my brother fills the necessary forms for school applications, army, and permits. When he learnt of Reuben’s death, he scanned all related articles and emailed them to me — The Straits Times, The New Paper, lianhe zaobao. He can remember when my antivirus expires, and offers his credit card to renew it. He knows my IC number by heart, so he makes sure I receive my GST Offset Package in time.
Above all that he does for us he takes care of himself, always doing all he can to ensure his cholesterol and blood pressure level is lowered to a healthy level even if that means cooking chinese herbs every night and walking to and fro his work place for an hour every morning and evening. The moment he feels chest pain he rushes himself to the hospital. When my mom complained of his snoring he went to do sleep tests and was a willing experiment for doctors to curb snoring, even if that meant wearing some uncomfortable apparatus to sleep.
You know how sometimes we just have certain vivid memories attached to people? Well, I reminisce the times when my brother and I would wait our turns to let our father hold our ears toward the light and dig the wax with the golden ear digger; how he taught me to cycle by detaching the little wheels one by one; bought me Swenson’s yam ice-cream when he occasionally picked me from Yamaha electone classes; placed me on his neck when my family walked down orchard road to see Christmas lightings; accompanied me to the bathroom on high tide nights ‘coz I was too scared to go alone; carried me across the road every morning to get to PAP kindergarten because he was afraid that if he merely holds me I might let go of his hand…
He will continue to contribute significantly to the household in his silent ungrudging ways, but I won’t go on taking him for granted.
Happy Fathers’ Day!
