I used to think how irresponsible you are. I used cried and asked God why are you my father. I used to hate you for coming home, drunk, started to quarrel with mummy, disturb us when all of us are asleep, or even starting a fight with mummy after quarrel when ended up beating me up caused I tried to stop both of you. I would ask myself why you can’t be like others, why can’t you be a good father that I always wished you would be? You’ll bring us to garden for picnics, to town for shopping, go have a dinner at restaurants and after that family strolls along the road or something during weekends & school holidays.
How much I loathed you, how much I wished you would change, how much I wanted to you to be there for me for my future, everything I used to imagine, all longer exist.
I cried to sleep, almost every night. I never felt so lost before, I never thought it would be so soon, so sudden, unprepared. I mourned I tear so badly yet I know nobody will ever walked into my room again pulling off my blanket questioning me what’s wrong.
From young, I was never bullied by anyone. Anyone do which made me upset in school, the very next day, I would see you in my school questioning those kids & teachers. When I started to have a boyfriend, you would tell him off and threatens him not to bully me else he will be in trouble. I used to get fetch to and fro to school by you or mummy, but usually it was you. You would stand next to the car outside my school gate waiting for me to be out (which I dreaded very much when my parents do that at that point of time, but now come to think of it, it’s a form of showing their concern and love).
You always told me you will be there for me. You told me that you will always be there standing with me no matter what happens. I always look up to you like a big shelter tree to me thou you’ve been a worse father. You sheltered me when I got beaten by mummy when I was young. You spoil me trying to satisfy everything I asked for. When we get to eat outside, I’m the one who call the shot. I knew I’m the apple in your eyes hence I’m the only one who always throws my tantrums around in the house.
Today, is your birthday. This year, this very day, I actually planned long time ago this year, that I would cook a bowl of mee sua for you for the very first time in these eighteen years you’ve bought me up. I’d imagine how happy you would be eating the noodles.
Everything now, everything that I thought, everything that I wished, all became nothing, no more, no longer able to.
Happy Birthday, Daddy. Rest in Peace.
