And you'd think the world will standardize Father's Day, like Christmas or Valentine's Day. Apparently Father's Day in New Zealand is in September.
Flashbacks...
I don't remember the joy on his face on the day that I was born. I don't know about the agony, the pain, (not physical pain or agony, that's for sure. You get what I mean) or the mental torture he went through. I'm his first child. I'm pretty sure he had no clue on how to handle me.
But I know he was happy that I was born.
I don't remember him waking up during the nights to bottle-feed me. I don't remember him taking me to the parks, or cradling me, or teaching me how to stand, walk, and run. I don't remember him buying the soft toys that I see myself holding in the photographs of my past.
But I know he did all of that. And more.
I remember him teaching me how to count, how to do multiplications and divisions. I remember him lying next to me in front of the TV with my favourite soft toy in my hand, forcing him to sniff the worn out toy. I remember him at first day of school, and how I tried not to cry when I saw his car leaving the schoolyard. I remember him bringing the family for outings, theme parks, camps and back to Sabah during the holidays.
I remember him teaching me maths in class when I was in Form 3. I remember him giving my friends and I additional maths tuition in Form 4 and Form 5. I probably would have failed maths if it weren't for his efforts. I remember him trying his best to handle a growing teenager. He may be a teacher, but handling other people's kids and handling your own are two totally different dimensions.
I remember him on the day that I got the scholarship to study overseas. He said he was proud of me. I remember him chauffering me from home to college so that I won't have to suffer using public transport. That's 3 hours of his life, every single week, for one and a half years. I remember him paying for all of my groceries even though I had money of my own. I remember him paying for the medical bills, application fees for visa etc. I remember him driving me to Putrajaya and to Subang Jaya to sort out my university applications with my sponsor and with my education agent. I remember him paying for my new luggage bag, my winter coat, my shoes, and the clothings that I bought.
I remember him on the day that I left home. I didn't know how he did manage to let me go, but he did. All my life, he tried to be the best father that he can be by protecting me from the evils of the world, for as long as he could. On that day, he need to let me go and let me face the world alone. And that's what he did. He let me live my life, and he trusted me to make decisions for myself. He may not say what he feels most of the time, but his actions speak louder than his words ever can. He sacrificed everything for the people that he loved most: his family.
Both of us may have completely different personalities, and totally constrasting mindsets, but I am what I am today because of him. I'm proud to have him as my dad.
Happy father's day!!
Sidenote: I can't wait for tomorrow to be done and over with. I'm sick of Info 101. Ah freedom..
