June 15, 2011

princess.

I read ProudDuck quite a lot.

And I saw the FV Daddy’s Girl Contest.

No, I’m not going to participate but PD’s stories of her dad got me smiling because her dad sounds A LOT like my own dad.

I feared my dad. No, wait. I still fear him. I don’t know why and no one knows why. About a year ago, my dad asked me the same question. He asked me if I remember him striking me, ever. I don’t. I really don’t. I remember Mama striking me, but Babah, never.

In fact, my childhood with my dad (until I was about 7) is still pretty much blurry to me. If not for old photographs, I wouldn’t know what I looked like in his arms at a very, very young age.

Mama tells me that when Babah was younger, he was very, very hot-tempered. Everything would rile him and he was a tad clueless about parenting. So, he brought me up the only he way he knew – by being a tough disciplinarian. And boy, he was tough alright. Apparently, he did strike me ONCE.

And in the rank of strikes, that strike could be called a sissy, since it was a mere tap with a ruler. But even so, I got a fever from that and Mama told my dad to never lay a hand on me ever again.

Since then, he never did, but I continued to fear him nonetheless.

When I was very little, my dad worked 2 jobs to make ends meet. So, I saw very little of him and lots of my mom and so, a lot of credit is owing to my mom for my splendid upbringing and why there’s a lot of her in me.

But be that as it may… in more ways that I can even imagine, I am actually a lot more like my dad and it took me 25 years to realise it.

Some time in November 2010, he brought me out for a lil’ “chat”. Some things were getting out of hand in the “mom-daughter relationship” department and my dad was curious as to why I was acting like a complete rebel when that’s exactly who I’m NOT.

And for the first time in my life, I cried my heart out to him, telling him EVERYTHING that I felt and since then, I became his Princess. I will never be a bestfriend + princess to him, like Adik is, but Princess is enough for me.

Since then, I started seeing him in a different light. I started seeing him not only as my dad but also protector and my confidante. He treated me like an adult. And whatever it is that passed between us on that day remained confidential up until today.

And since then, our differences also began to evaporate, bit by bit, because guess what? There were never real differences to begin with.

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH OF MY DAD THERE IS IN ME.

Like how I can sleep just about anywhere.
Or how I hate the Original Flavoured Anlene and love the Chocolate Flavoured one.
And how we dig the Green Nescafe.
And how I write journals almost every day and keep record of everything.
Like how naïve I can get about certain things.
Or how I can explode like a volcano when I’ve held some things to myself for too long.
Or how I cannot control my anger (and hate) once it is unleashed.
And the fact that I have a splendid sense of hearing (Alhamdulillah).
And the fact that I am terrible with directions. I didn’t even know that its hereditary???
Oh. Let's not get started on the part where we're both born with extraordinary patience.
And let’s not forget my slapstick humour.
I apparently got that from my dad too.

I don’t think I ever understood him before. I never understood why he was so tough on me. He would wait for me AT THE GATE (!!!) if I went out for a date and came home any later than 7.30 p.m. He wouldn’t let me travel with just anyone. And there are a whole list of things which he does to me, which (whether luckily or not, I don’t know) my siblings have been spared. But for what it’s worth, it was all done in good faith and I can finally see the sense in all of the things he did.

Now, he’s a lot mellower. He’s calmer now that I am married and tells my mom off every now and then when my mom acts like I’m still single.

We still have “secret code” looks that we give each other when the same thought passes through our mind at any particular time. And we’re still working on getting to know each other better, now that we both see each other in a different light.

It’ll still be awkward for me to just “hang out” with my dad, as that’s never happened before.

But one of these days, I’d love to try that.

He may never read this blog but I just want everyone to know that I love my dad heaps and that I’d probably get him loads of golf balls for Father’s Day this weekend. That would make him the happiest Dad on earth and his golf buddies for the next 6 months will never hear the end of “anak I belikan I bola golf” stories.

Hahaha. Babah, Babah. I don’t know what I’d do without you.



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