3 days ago, on the 12 Oct 06, my father would have turned 60.
I had wanted to say something in here about Daddy at the time but decided not to. Didn't want to get melancholic and all that. I also didn't want to call Mummy to remind her, expecting her to call me instead. But she didn't. Perhaps we were waiting to see who called who first. We both never did.
But I don't think she forgot.
Anyway Curly just blogged about his late father, and coupled with Kona's very aptly entitled The Departed, I suppose its Daddy's way of telling me he misses feeding our dogs half his B'day cake.
I talk about the doggies because he really
sayanged them alot. You know he was never the expressive or outwardly loving father. And in some ways, I think I am very much similar. But when it came to our little princesses, he became the doting 'grandfather'. I know he loves me but all I ever got, at best, was a grunt of approval or a nod of the head when I did something good or worthy of his praise. But with the canines, he became the coo-ing and babbling, terminally-ill old man I never knew existed.
This time 2 years ago, was a particularly difficult period for our family as we shuttled in and out of hospital with Daddy's condition taking a drastic turn for the worst after his 58th birthday. Doctors had given him 6mths in 2000, but he managed to stay alive for another 48. But 11 days after K and me cooked him his last birthday dinner at our place, he gave up the fight.
When I see a moth these days in my living room or in the kitchen, I still wonder if it is Daddy coming back to say hello. But when Mummy occasionally tells me she keeps finding bits and pieces of his 'legacy' left behind in the house, I just go 'izzit?'. Perhaps I just miss him more than I care to admit.
But more than that, I think I feel guilty. Because if Daddy is looking down at me now from Up There, with the number of things I have screwed up lately, it'll probably be a grunt of disapproval and a shake of the head.
And I would ask of him to forgive me.