♥ Love, in all kinds. (Monday, August 17, 2009 / 11:29 PM)
Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. ~
Jane HowardHello people! I realise I've been blogging alot lately, which is like so ironic, considering my impending exams. But still, I have so much to say! I know there's no one other than Junrong reading my blog, but I just want to write. I just wanna let my words out.
I just like writing. It just comes naturally. I dont know, maybe its just in me.
So yeah, daddy drove me home today. I could see that he's really tired but he still came to drive me home. Thats veryvery nice of him to do so. I know some people may say "hey, thats what he's supposed to do!" but well, at least thats not how I feel. Its more of a "Want" and not a "Need". I could have easily taken a bus home, and he knows that. But he doesnt even ask more questions.
I feel bad for just by thinking of how I think of him sometimes in a fit of an anger. You wouldnt want to hear about what I think or say. :(
Daddy really do love me. Or US, for that matter. All of us 3. We just dont seem to appreciate what he or mum has done all this while unless we get something out of it. Shame on me, or us. :(
Every single time I call him to get him to fetch me home, he will always be there. Unless he has something to do and doesnt want to make me wait for him. I remember there was once that I called him to fetch me and he came over without even his dinner.
(What makes it worse was that his friend actually asked him out for dinner and he rejected him just to fetch me!)I had a happy childhood. So much better than many people out there. I had practically all that I wanted. Barbie dolls, a room with my sister,
(i dont know what else all of a sudden...) there was caning from my mum when we got out of hands, but we were happy most of the times. :D
There was once, my siblings and I, all 3 of us were home with our maid. Elsie or something. we locked ourselves up in the master bedroom
(without our maid.) and climbed up to get these, eau de toilette in miniature bottles. And guess what we did?
Bet you'd never guess it..
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We used them with a cloth and started wiping on this tricycle of ours.
(I was only like 6 or so then, so I guess we were kinda smart(?) HAHA.) I cant remember what exactly happened after that, but probably everything just blew off.
Ok, I digressed.
But here's the part: Dad being the super hero.
Mum has always been a big part of my life. And dad has always been well, kinda hidden behind the scenes. But I will always remember what happened this particular day in my life vividly. I was probably in primary 5 or so, so I reckon I should be rather heavy
(weight wise) already. I always had this kinda terrible stomach pains that no, it isnt menstrual cramps,
(I havent even had my period then!) and not the kind you feel when you want to do big business.
Its just some kind of unfathomable pain that is reallyreally intolerable. There would always be times in the night when I wake up, and feel terrible. like REALLY terrible. The first person I go to? My dad. When I was younger, the person I go to when I need the toilet is not my mum, but my dad too.
And so, that day, he stayed outside, smoking his cigarette while I used the toilet. And he'd go "Still painful? You ok anot?" Usually, my stomach would be fine after I used the toilet, but that time, it was really bad.
End up, in the middle of the night at some ungodly hour, he brought me to our family doctor though he had to go to work the next day. By then I was in tears already because my stomach was really hurting.
(You wont understand the kinda pain.) The doctor wanted to give me a jab, and I was really against the idea.
(If you know me well enough, you'd know how adverse I am to needles and jabs.)Dad convinced me I'd be fine, and that it'd be over in a second. I relented. And yeah, I took the jab. And now, 7 years later, I never got the pains back. I am really thankful for that jab, his comforting words, everything.
But thats not the main point. When we got to our house's lift, we had to climb one floor up to get to our 10th floor house since the lift stops at 9th floor. And I felt really weak, and dad piggy-backed me all the way home and tucked me into bed before he went to sleep. It wasnt a reallyreally long distance, but that action really moved me. Up till now.
I remember I wrote an essay about this incident in my secondary school as well. I scored pretty well, prolly because it was based on a true story and like teacher always says, the best narrative often comes from true, real life story and feelings.
Main point is not my grades, but about how I still remember it. It must have been really tough on him. At the point of time when he and mum were contemplating about divorce, I dare say it was the worst nights of my life. I'll prolly leave this for some other day else this post is getting really long.
(And yeah, for those of you who dont know, my parent are divorced. But I am not saddened about it. At least not now. Because I know, that there's no point making them stay together if they are not going to be happy. I am actually glad that they found their happiness this way. And no, dont pity me. I dont think its a really bad or sad thing.)HAHA, I am really glad that I still have my dad and my mum, although we dont live together anymore.
At least in the case of my dad.The most important people in my life.
P/S: I like people tucking me into bed.
Labels: family
"The best around might not be the best for you." - DTMY
