7th. This particular december morning, I went back to this neighbourhood I used to be so familiar with when I was 19. It was surreal, it being a morning of more than 10 years later, me being in that area for the wake of this father of a very dear person in my life. I like his father a lot, so much it even surprises me. So much, it surprised me how much it affected me when I got the news of his passing.
He was this tall, quiet father who almost always finishes his conversation with me with an adorable clumsy laugh or a grin. I always told his son he's gonna grow up like his father, always smiling, always grinning while scratching his head, not really knowing how to respond except "Please eat", "Please drink" with kindness. This tall, gentle giant.
I remembered him coming home with bean curd almost every night after his shift work for his children (and me) if I'm around. I know this was his way of showing his love for his children, him being a single father trying to hold a family up. I'm this outsider who happened to be around to witness during that period of my life, seeing all those tiny little things he does for his children quietly then and it warmed me inside to see this big man's routine.
I cried so hard at his wake that morning I don't know why. Perhaps, I thought he just wasn't meant to pass on so early in his life or perhaps, I thought he was meant to enjoy the fruit of his labour more, have more time to enjoy life. Or perhaps, it's the pain I know his children will feel from his passing. I know his son loves his father a lot but he's never really talked about it and it's gonna break his heart so much. At least I know his children were there for him during the last few months of his life. I know I can't be there for his final walk with his family but I was there in spirit. I hope he has a good life. I know he has. He has wonderful children who grew up to be good unique individuals.
May he rest in peace.
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