13 May 2010


Man... do they really commemorate parents on this side of the world.

So Father's Day came around. And this was what it reminded me.
One: I lost my dad to Leukemia when I was 11. I was just about to grow up to be able to know him a lot better.
Two: Abah's younger brother, aka my uncle, became the stepdad 3 years later when I was 15.
Three: The stepdad is a myterious, quiet being whose steps and thoughts are silent and secret, who asks me of things I pretty much don't like, who has also taken over the place of my dad to which I believe he did unwillingly.

I still remember - after months of anticipating his death - how I cried not a single tear during my dad's funeral, yet crying my eyes out at my mum's second wedding as though all hope is lost for a life that makes sense. And to some point I was right about that. They had both decided on 'what's best for me' and now I'm sitting in a stark corner still trying to make ends meet with my own bare hands. Did they think pushing me into a bare naked corner was what's best for me? Oh yeah. And they're still doing it.

The funny thing is that I do miss Abah, but not so much that it paralyses me or makes me dwell too much on the question of 'What if he was still around?'. Of course I've thought about it, and if he were, well not much of now would have even happened.
On one hand he had a crazy sense of humour, and a strong will to lead. On the other hand he uses discipline. But most of all he had the willingness to ------ communicate. I remember that we used to listen to each other a lot. He was the example I had back then that I need now... because I seem to have forgotten.

If I could, I would trade all the things I know and have now in return for having him back just to remember again what good communication is. Just so I didn't have to turn out being the one who screws up all the time and if not then the one who gets a finger pointed at each time something goes wrong in a relationship between me and someone else.
Because it's not easy. It really isn't. And it's tiring to always be the person who gets pushed around into things. Always have to initiate, always have to get the ball rolling, always have to be the one who takes the first step. Despite that I'm trying to see it in a positive way, in a way that it should be like a compliment when someone thinks I'm good enough to lead, right? Whoa. Shouldn't I be flattered? Yes I am to some point. I get the idea. But man... it's like holding a smile for a camera that never takes the damn picture. Disappointing.

Perhaps that's also my problem... that I somehow wait to be acknowledged when the reality is that I don't need that sort of ego-boosting-things to feel good about myself. So why can't I just be at peace with being under the pressure?
And why is contact with other humans so sought after yet is so useless after sometime when it only ends up in shit after shit?

Before I derail, my thoughts once again go out to Abah for being the person who taught me many good things in the best way a child could understand. I remember him as this young man who was always unpredictable and full of surprises. Who made jokes out of nothing and making one laugh without offending anyone else. He hardly smiled but he was the most optimistic person I have in my memory. He was not perfect and I didn't like it when he was strict, or in a rage. But he made up for it. Even if he's gone though, I'll still remember that his blood's running in my very own veins. The same willingness to talk and listen.

I just have to remember.

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