Hey Papa....

“Are you free?” Mummy asked as I answered the phone. I was having lunch with Shir on a normal Tuesday afternoon. “Why?” I asked. “Nothing. Just wanted to chit chat with you” she said. The moment she said that I knew something was wrong because she has never called just to chat with me. “Huh?? You called just to chit chat with me? No way. What is it? I’m having lunch with my colleague” I said. “Hehehe…Nothing just wanted to tell you your dad just met with an accident. A Prado hit the back of the car as he was trying to make a U-turn at Taman Tun”. “What?!?” I shouted. “Is he okay? Was it bad?”. “He’s fine. Just that the whole trunk is gone. The other car was speeding and your dad was driving quite slowly so I guess he couldn’t brake on time and he hit the back of the car. I’m waiting for him to come back now. Hehehe…. Anyway just wanted to tell you that’s all”.

As I was walking into the kitchen later that night, Daddy said “I need you to go to the police station with me”. “I thought you’ve already reported this afternoon?” I asked. “Not yet” he replied. Most of the journey to the police station was quiet. Minus the few moments when he was telling me not to drive too near to the car in front just in case they brake suddenly and I’ll bang into them.

When we were at the Police Station, it suddenly hit me how old my dad has become. Mind you my dad is 60 and he still goes for his twice a week badminton session. He makes fantastic food and is always happy telling me how he made certain dishes and what sort of ingredients he used. Now at the station, he no longer stand straight but hunching a little while walking around not sure whether to fill in the form first or to wait for the Police on duty to call for his turn. I took the form and told him he needs to fill it up and give it to the Police.

When it was our turn to report, I realized the reason why he wanted me to be there with him was because we needed to type the report onto the computer ourselves. Unlike a few years back, the police no longer sits and writes for you. While waiting for the Sergeant, I remembered how he used to be the one taking me to the Police Station when I lost my IC, how he arranged for my driving lessons, buying me my air ticket when I was flying to Australia, carrying me into the car and drove me to the doctor when I was having measles because I was too sick to walk, and all the little little things a responsible father would do. Taking us all out for family trip, driving to some god forsaken place for a what he would say “extremely good food where you can’t find anywhere in KL” Every time I’m out with my friends he would sit at his chair waiting for me to come home because I’m constantly home late. The moment he hears the gate he would stand up and walk to the front door with keys in his hands and open up the door for me.
Now, he’s constantly going to the toilet (one of the signs of old age), slowly losing his focus and always forgetting things.

My dad has never been a man with many words. We never share hugs, nor do we tell each other how much we love each other (normal, being in a traditional Chinese family). Even without all these, I know for a fact that he does love me and the family very much from the things he does, and the way he cares for us. 10 years down he would be 70 and I, 34. I’m afraid to even think of how he would be like, then. Will he still be driving around? Will he still be in the kitchen trying to cook his ‘signature’ dishes? Will he still be saying the same old thing he has been saying for the past 15 years ‘Stop coming home so late. Stop spending so much money. Stop driving so fast.’?

But one thing I know for sure that will never change, is the passion we both share for cooking, how alike we actually are in personality no matter how much we try to deny it, how we annoy the hell out of one another due to both our stubbornness, and that he would always be my father, my hero, my role model, and I, the rebellious, stubborn, annoying eldest daughter that will never grow up in his eyes.