As he recalls it
The other day his fren showed him an old photo of her dad, you know, one of those black and white ones which time have gently washed away some of its tone, but nonetheless enhanced its essense. staring at the photo, he couldn't help but to think of his own dad. perhaps it was the karipop hair style, so graciously combed to the back, something like tony leong in 'in the mood for love', perhaps even done with the same brand of oil. or perhaps it was the singlet his fren's dad was wearing in the photo, which his dad also seemed to have some collection of.
He lost his dad when he was 8 years young. so perhaps it's kinda odd to have suddenly think of someone who has gone for like 20 years. someone whom he only remembers 4 things of; buying him toys, caning him, taking him to the market, and taking him to supper at the roadside char koay toew. and perhaps, the time he saw the growth on his dad's neck and how hard it was for everyone, of course. that if he could comprehend it all then.
At the funeral, neighbours and frens consoled his mom, feeling sorry for the predicament. some of them would turned to him and say, "what is to be of this child, so young and oredi lost his dad" and so on. his older brothers would be given the unwelcomed task of making sure the family stayed intact, come rain or shine. what a task for some acne-cheeked teenagers to shoulder. and most of all, what a mammoth task for a single mom to bring up four boys, at the same time running a coffee shop left by the ill-fated husband.
Growing up without a father doesn't mean much to him, except for certain school days when people would seemed to be surprised when he told them that his dad was gone. somehow they would always have the impression that he was lying.
One day, after spending a day playing at one of his best fren's house, the fren's father offered to take him home, and he shyly obliged. sitting in the back seat, he suddenly started to see how his fren was talking to his dad in front of him. the fren's dad was talking to his son about something very mundane, as he recalls it. he was sure it was something very mundane because he was telling himself that someone who has a dad should talk about more important things. then it hit him in the face, that he would never get the chance to do what his fren was doing. talking to his dad. even about things mundane.
20 years gone, his memory of his dad remains at his 8 years young's memory. he now thinks about his dad lesser and lesser. one day, when he was shopping in the men's department looking for a belt, a saleswoman came and asked whether he was looking for something for himself or for his dad. puzzled, he looked up at the decoration and saw a happy father's day's banner. oh, it's for myself, he told her.
posted by kenkin @ 8:00 AM
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