Fatherly love

We may be in our mid-20s but our dad still packs dinner for us by hand…

Daddy-o is a cool cat. He lets me call him daddy-o, pops, poppaloppaloff, pa, papadeedoo and his response is always the same: “hehehehe”.

He takes the family teasing about his weird music taste, random gifts (Persian lemon, anyone?), Cina ah pek food choices, and “I must take you there, it’s a secret place” moments. He puts up with our dumb comments and jokes, and disinterest in what he does. He sponsors my mum, my sister and me, AND doesn’t complain we are doing Dharma work.

He doesn’t make us go on family trips with him. He doesn’t complain that we don’t spend time together. He doesn’t insist on family dinners. He doesn’t dictate that we should all stay at home with him. He doesn’t force us to get married, study things we don’t want to, or groom us to take over his company.

We do our own thing, and he does his. He gives us advice and if we don’t want to take it, he will gripe a little, more out of frustration that we’re usually about to make a mistake, then let us make the mistake anyway to learn for ourselves. And if it does go right, he congratulates us without feeling bad that he was wrong.

But I know he misses us. When I SMS, he calls back just to chat. Sometimes, he will call me then as soon as we finish talking, he will call my sister who is just next to me. Whenever I ask if he’s free for dinner or just to chill out, he’s always free. So on the rare occasions he does ask me for something, I try my best to accommodate him.

We couldn’t do what we do with such freedom without your quiet support so thank you for being as awesome as you are. Daddy, we love you!

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