I'm now depriving myself of one night of sleep because it's too late to start sleeping now as it's 7.46AM. I tried to sleep, I really did, but my eyes kept opening to wander around my dark room (which I'm really afraid to do so but still did), brain as alive as ever.
Then I tried to think about things since my mind wanted to think so much. And thinking usually wears people out like how it's doing to me 2 hours later - now. I thought about my dad. I started going back to my earliest memories of him and the first one I got to was when I was 7 years old...
My parents got divorced a year before that and my mum, my brother and I moved out to Ang Mo Kio while my dad rented a flat in Tampines. My then primary school, St. Anthony's Canossian Convent, was celebrating some saint's named Saint Bakitha (however you spell her name). We were holding a theatre performance combining the primary and secondary school. I was in ballet and was chosen to be one of the few kids to dance in a small scene. Because of this performance, I was to stay in that school until the performances were over and then I'd transfer out to CHIJ Primary. St. Anthony's Canossian was all the way in Bedok while I was at the other end in Ang Mo Kio. My mum arranged for me to stay with my dad at his flat in Tampines (which is nearer to my school). Performers get to miss lessons, since there were 3 to 4 nights of performances.
I remember my dad picking me up after the school's chartered bus dropped everyone off at school after each performance night, around 9pm plus. We'd have some home-cooked instant noodles for supper. Morning came... We'd have instant noodles with bread. I really liked instant noodles that time, and it just... satisfied me. But now I look back, I'm thinking, "Wow. My dad really was trying to save money." Well, my mum always told me that my dad's own business isn't sufficient enough but it never really hit me. He used to be sufficiently wealthy, always sent overseas by his then company, bringing my mum along. They travelled extensively. But I guess ever since my dad started his own motor business... Well, he had a family to support, his cigarettes to smoke and jackpot times to relief his stress.
I won't bother going more into details about the next few years of separate living. When I was 13 or 14, my brother wanted to do his private O's, but whatever my parents could spare, was not enough. My dad, probably exhausted and disappointed with his life in Singapore, cancelled his Permanent Residentship, gave my brother the S$3000 needed, and moved back to Japan to stay with his parents and older sister (who's not married). My brother never finished his studies. All this while, my mum supported my brother and I single-handedly, and I still preferred my dad.
The first year with him in Japan was alright. We did talk on the phone. But.
Somehow, the phone calls lessened. We tried the internet - msn, skype. Epic fail.
And then. He stopped coming online. We hardly talked. When I called, the first thing he asked was, "Did something happened?" Then his father had some hole in the lungs and later passed away.
2008. My mum asked me to ask my dad for some money for the Italy choir competition trip. He said he would send... But he never did. I sent him photos of Italy, he never replied. I didn't even ask him for the money. The last time I spoke to my dad was November or December 2008. The last time I emailed him, I asked him if I could go over to visit, my mum paying the air ticket. No reply. Okay, my grandmother might be traditional and favour the boy instead of the girl. My grandmother might be against it because I didn't choose to stay with my dad for the divorce. But still. No reply.
Then I realised how strong my mum was, how independent my mum was, and how brave my mum was.
So as I lied in bed thinking. I placed myself in my dad's shoes; I felt very depressed, disappointed, agonised, lonely, filled with regret, hurt, bitter, anger. I mean, if you're 55 years old, was happily married but then divorced and never got the custody of at least your favourite child (I was daddy's girl), lived your life alone in a spacious rented HDB flat... Wouldn't you feel the same?
I don't know if there were any other women during that period but I'm just going to assume there weren't.
Usually people ask my, how do I feel about the divorce thing. I always tell them I'm fine. Because, I really thought I was. Never that kid who usually suffer some psychological trauma or disorder after a divorce. But I guess it's started to sink in. The whole thing is probably taking it's effect on me. After all these years.
Am I angry? Not really. Am I bitter? Not really. Am I hurt? Not really. Am I sad? Overwhelmingly. Sad may be an understatement. But, it's the safest I guess.
My daddy had it all - money and family - but lost it.
My daddy was there, but soon wasn't.
My daddy was a lonesome figure.
My daddy.
Comments (3)
heey. im an old friend, haha but it doesn't matter. all i want to say is that.. keep going (: even sometimes when its soo hard to keep your head up, He'll help you hold it up. (: Even though you have no father, He's your Daddy. No hug from your dad, He still smiles down at you. When things get tight, He's always there. Just know, that I'm very proud of you. If I had gone through all this.. wow.. I have no idea. He'll wipe your every tear, He'll find a way to make you smile, and He'll pick you up when your falling. You'll alwaysbeHIS because He's already seen every tear, felt your pain, and understood your overwhelming sadness.
He = Jesus♥
And then I remember how your hair was long and how we used to play in your amk house.
I know it hurts, bff, to have someone who used to be there but isn't anymore. Remember, whats lost will be found and that I love you and the big man up there's gotta be the daddy that your daddy could never be. And he loves you. One day, you'll get to answer all these questions and say what you really think.