where yesterdays are all boxed up & neatly put away.

i've always been prone to wondering... about really ridiculous things.

like... what if my father hadn't travelled so much when i was younger?

i never knew what it was like to have a father who kept regular hours, one who came home by dinner everynight. i remember going to the cricket club during lunch with him, then him sending me back before rushing for a meeting or something. i remember rushed trips to the zoo with him, and that my maid used to tag along. i remember having chicken rice at chatterbox with him, cos it used to be my favourite when i was a kid. i remember having burger king with him... me chewing very contentedly on my chicken tenders. and i think he wanted to commit suicide there and then- he was never big on fast food. i remember toys r us, united colours of benetton, forum... i remember that lime green dress he bought me from benetton, how i initially hated it. i remember a long yellow one with flowers, very southern, prarie looking thing that i REALLY HATED. i remember having to attend a red cross dinner with my mom and him, and my godma... and wearing this long sleeved velvet dress that made me itch for some strange reason. i remember maxim's for one of my mom's birthdays, where my dad arranged everything, down to the guest list and the food, the flowers. i remember being awesomely proud of him, even though i was only 8 and wore a barbie-pink ribbon round my head. i remember how he used to buy me a doll from every country he went to. i remember hating the vietnam doll because i thought vietnamese were evil cos of the vietnam war (boy was i wrong). i remember how my younger brother used to say "daddy's in jarkatatatata", and how everyone thought it was the cutest thing to say. i remember how we had to go to asian aerospace and say hi to his clients, i remember the garuda people... and their little. hut? they served ebi tempura, i was pleased. i remember being awfully proud when i saw him on tv for the first time. and the second. but by the third, i kind of got bored of it, and jealous that other people could see my daddy too. i remember how he searched high & low for a restaurant that served goood french onion soup when we were in phuket on his company trip (us & his mom)... cos i really did love french onion soup. i remember how we used to bring my brothers and i to MPH along stanford road whenever my mom went to visit my oldest brother in perth. i remember him organizing bbqs in our backyard, where we'd tie my dog to my old doll house and dress him up so that he could have dinner with us. i remember the first time he brought us to raffles marina to see the boat, and how i was awe-struck. i remember how he scolded me at my 10th birthday, and made me cry over dinner. i remember how he could never say no to anything we wanted. i remember going down to his office after church on sundays, running around the relatively empty office, in and out of the conference rooms and the cubicles. i remember being really proud that he had his own law firm, carrying his name-card in my wallet when i was a child. i remember how i used to love going to his office for lunch, because the receptionists would know my name, treat me like a princess, and give me a can of coke. i remember how he used to bring my friends and i out for lunch, the most recent being in sec2 when he dined with us at nydc and remarked on the beauty of bangladesh. (he tried baked rice & meatballs for the first time) i remember how he tried to teach me how to play squash, and got very upset with me when i quit gb&squash. i remember him being at every single birthday. the only one he missed was his own. i remember him being there when i collected my results in primary 6, and when my brothers collected theirs as well. i remember lying on his bed and watching tennis with him (and the rest of the kids) when i was a child. i remember how he used to love root beer floats, and slow walks to the market to buy paddlepop for us (and cigarettes for him - dunhill. ) i remember how he used to arrange for my brothers to go into the cockpit for a while, and the joy he used to get out of it. i remember how he came down and watched my first time trial, sat there for the whole 2 hours, and congratulated me on swimming that number of laps at an apparently consistent speed. i remember him telling me that i could do whatever i wanted with my life, as long as i tried. i remember lying to him about my results when i was in primary 2, but having to confess after he bought saw my report card. i remember him saying that he'd only sign in red because he was angry with me, and that i should tell my teacher that if she asked. i remember that he bought me my pocahontas book that day, and how glossy it was. i remember feeling insanely guilty that night, and begging him to not be angry. i remember how he used to keep his atm pin-number on a tiny piece of paper in his wallet, and how i found out when we were at clarke quay looking for a new pair of Dr. Martens for my oldest brother. i remember how he bought me all the collectible dolls i ever wanted. i remember how he loved the poem i wrote, in memory of my grandmother, the one i recited at her funeral. i remember how he used to take them cycling around our estate when everyone was younger. i remember how he tried to teach me how to cycle on a 2-wheeler. it took him many years, but i finally managed to. i remember him bringing me to east coast park on sundays, just to cycle just because i wanted to. i remember how he used to buy hokkien-mee back for my grandma, and pop it by her place.

i remember everything good about him, but strangely enough, hardly anything bad. maybe that's the wonderful thing about the past. The quality of memory awards people and situations with redeeming qualities, it's kind. the only thing i can see are smiley faces from the '90s- the really long trip we took to europe/boston/washington/orlando, those to whistler, hongkong, numerous beach destinations, pps lounges, his smile, love for simon&garfunkle, how he brought us to see les miserables 4x, and how he saw it even more times himself. how he fell asleep during the phantom of the opera cos he was so tired. how he wanted to murder my mother for making all of us watch aida... until he saw the live animals. how he used to cut up credit cards, before he grew old & mellowed. and the way he used to order sinful stuff over dinner, much to my mother's disapproval. maybe that isn't such a bad thing, afterall.

this sudden entry about my father, who is really really rarely talk about, and really admit how much i love... was brought on by The Ataris - The Saddest Song.

maybe one day, i'll have the courage to tell all this to him, to his face. just maybe.

posted by meishi @ 2:38 PM