A blog post done up some time ago but had been staying in my drafts due to my inactivity on Blogger.
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There was this time, not too long ago, when I was really ill. It was a virus infection, and I had to vomit the entire night.
Tried hard to sleep but I ended up waking up at every one hour interval, to rush to the toilet with the urge to vomit. And it was so bad I even had to hug the toilet bowl literally because my body wouldn't puke. I would return to my bed, relieved, and fall asleep, only to wake up another hour later to repeat that cycle. That night, was horrible.
My father came home the next day and our family decided that I should visit the doctor, even though I stopped having the dreadful vomiting thing, because I was still feeling uncomfortable. I can't recall what exactly was it but it was uncomfortable to the point that I couldn't garner the energy to walk at a normal pace. The clinic was just few streets away from my house so it didn't make sense for my dad to drive so we decided to walk. I took tiny steps and paused for so many times that it took us 40min, to walk probably a distance of 400m.
I didn't think much of this back then. But this incident suddenly popped into my mind when I was in the shower (been having deep thoughts lately in the showers). It then dawned on me that my daddy, a 58 year old man then, had accompanied me to walk that 400m path for a ridiculous 40min. Of course, he did rushed me and said things along the lines of "continue walking, it's just THERE. Stop stopping" but he stopped and waited for me nevertheless.
Since young, my father has been a strict figure in the household. He was very conscious of the food we eat and I couldn't even get to eat ice cream or have iced or carbonated drinks in front of him. It was my mother and grandmother who would sneak in such guilty treats and feed them to me whenever "daddy is not home". He was the scary father whom I never had conversations with, all the way till I was in upper primary, when the school work got tougher. Lol
Things started to change. We became a lot closer and our family started to go on family trips overseas. But then the rebellion teenage years kicked in and things just kind of stopped. It got better, kind of, after we moved house.
He would drive me to school on days when I have to be early, or simply when I was feeling lazy. He would buy dinner home on weekends for the family, and had to make sure whatever he bought was to my liking or craving of the day. He would comply to my last-minute pleas for help for school related work, be it being my interviewee or coming up with inputs and ideas.
It seemed like I have made those requests while conveniently forgetting that he had to wake up earlier than usual for me in order to drive me to school, that he would have his own craving, and that he would be tired from a day's work. That he is a human, too. But he, had unconditionally fulfilled them.
Things I have taken for granted, my father had received them with patience. He has been walking with me patiently for the past 20 years of my life, not just the 400m path that day. Sorry daddy, and
Thank you, daddy. I love you.
It will be your 60th birthday next year. It sucks to realize, as a daughter, that a father is getting older and he has lesser time to spend with his child. I really regretted not treasuring every moment I had with you before, but I will make sure that I will, from now on. I want us to have no regrets.
