The 50 Eight Year Old Man

It's been a good couple weeks since I've written anything in here. School work and work has been taking up most of my free time, but it feels great to finally say that most of it has been finished and now I can finally post something new up.

And posting something on this particular day makes this post even more special.

I've tried constructing sentences to open the post, but it usually ends with frantic backspacing.

In short, it's my Dad's birthday today.

The Gemini. I think a friend of mine once told me that Geminis were very hot tempered or something, and my Dad was no exception. It was so easy to tick him off (ask my sister) and that temper instilled fear into the people he worked with.

Despite all that fear, nobody doubted who Thomas Song was. Yes, he was a hot head, but he always came through. i would go to the place he worked and people would still be talking about him; about the great person he was. One account was that he came in early one time, and sat at the reception desk, which was facing the doors to the company. As the employees of the company came in, he would greet them one by one with a smile. For those who came late, let's just say they didn't get such a warm greeting as the others.

Yes, people knew him as the manager of a company, that one guy you don't fuck around with. People might say that they know him, but I can guarantee that they never had the chance of knowing him like how my family and I did.

To me, he was Dad.

In a time when everything was more simple, when the most worrisome thought my generation had was whether the school's computer lab would allow us to play Red Alert 2, I knew for a fact that when that school bell rang, I was coming home to rest, and come 5.00pm, I would always expect a call from a father who had been working 8 hours and still wanted to know if the family needed anything before coming back home to a hug and a kiss from them.

He would sit at the dinner table, without his shirt (LIKE A BOSS) and would listen to my mother talk. He would then proceed to break his silence by asking me how was my day. After dinner, he gets cleaned up and finishes up any work brought back from home and proceed to his bed where he would watch the news and proceeds to fall asleep within the following five minutes, only to wake up and hug me and my mom before proceeding to go back to his dream.

During the weekends, he would check his email to read the word of God and sometimes he'd share something with me(if i wake up as early as he does). the family would then go to the market where he'd just buy a shit ton of stuff and the rest of the afternoon would consist of him, my mom and our maid cooking a storm up. Dad never understood what "more than enough" meant when he cooked for us, so my mum would always have to eat extra to ensure the fridge would never overfill. the evenings would consist of him taking time out with the family, or call my sister who at the time was in Australia. We'd pass the phone around, he'd never not show a smile on his face when he sees one of us talking to her.

During the last few days of 2002, things were not looking up. I saw my father walk down a couple of stairs, pale and tired. Yet, he still took us out to see the capital. Though tired and in pain, he still brought us shopping at an adjacent mall. he'd tell me "Go and see the toys. I sit here for a while".

When 2003 arrived, he told us, "I'd never think I'd see 2003". No one can imagine the sadness we all felt as he said that. But the good Lord gave him a couple more days, and that was all anyone of us could ever ask for.

The last few days I was so worried that everytime he'd fall asleep in his chair, I'd go up to him to see if he was still breathing.

He was able to witness my mum get another year older before he went back Home. And, honestly, ever since then, life changed.

He would've been 58 today. I wouldn't even be in Kuching anymore if he was here.

I apologize if I'm bumming you guys out, but loss like this, never heals over time. 8 years on and it still hurts. Angels like him never really stay on Earth too long anyway. I guess everything happens for a reason. I would've never become the person I am if it wasn't for him. 11 years having a father like that, and he has taught me so many things. And he's an amazing father and always will be one. I mean, seriously, if there was a Fathers Hall of Fame, he would be in there.

:)

He died a man with many illnesses, but he lives on as the best father anyone could ever ask for. He got me playing an instrument I can;t seem to get enough of anymore, he got me a life growing up I could only dream of, but most importantly, he gave me himself; a guy who said,"Screw you stereotypical strong father image never shows love for anyone" and showed his family that he loved them every single day he was blessed to walk this Earth.

Happy birthday Dad

My gift to you is to promise you that God willing I get to have my own family, I will become a father just as kick-ass as you were.

I love you.