With the clock showing 12.05 am, it signifies the ending of Father’s Day.
And with that, I begin my writing.
A large part of my life shows my father as the lead in it. Even in the snatches of memories of my childhood, I could mostly remember him.
The days when he had to come home from work to drag a screaming and crying me who refused to go to school.
The days when he worked hard to help me finished my homework while I merely stood by giving instructions.
The days he send home-cooked food (and my maid as well to help me get ready) to the school for lunch everyday because I refused to eat at the canteen.
That birthday when I threw a tantrum because I was dissatisfied with the stationary set my parents gave me and he set out immediately to buy me a 2-storey dollhouse complete with furniture and electricity.
If there’s a person in the world I would never want to disappoint, it is him.
It’s my dad.
For the many times I’d turned my back on him, the times I let out my frustrations on him, the times I’d given up and pushed everything onto him,
He’s there. Without fail, without any excuses, he’s always there.
And if there’s one thing I guard fiercely in life, it is his trust in me. That is one thing I cannot bear to loss.
From that moment I was a child, to the day that has seen me as who I am now,
I love him with all my heart.