For as long as I can remember, I have always been a daddy's girl. I would often fall asleep laying on my dad's lap or ask him to carry me around in the amusement park. When I was older, even if I am not a touchy person, I would still give my father bear hugs and belly slaps. For me, my father was the only man I could rely on; the only man worth loving. I guess to some extent, the reason why I still do not have a boyfriend; nobody will be as good as my dad. (Electra Complex?? NAH!)
Unlike most fathers, my dad was always beside us. He would go to the market and cook our food (when the maid is not home) and would even nurse us when we are sick. He was both a father and a mother to us even if my mom was also always home. My mother is not a domestic goddess, she doesn't cook nor go to the market (we go to the supermarkets, not the wet market. LOL).
I would remember him singing to us non-stop (even if we begged him to) when we are on road trips. He patiently taught me that "he is not a citric fruit, not Lemon...It's Lennon" when I asked him for the correct spelling of "Imagine" when I was in grade1 (yeah...I sucked at spelling!) I have learned to love music because of him from "oldies but goodies" to alternative rock. We loved drinking coffee (even when I was still in preschool) until now that we are both hyper acidic. Both of us are very temperamental so we would often bicker and sometimes not even talk for days. But he would always apologize to me...even if it was my fault. He would come home with shrimp tempura in his hands and bribe his way back to my good graces. Although I might complain that he favors my older sister more, I was still happy to have him as my father.
Nobody is perfect and I thought that his only imperfection was his ghastly habit of smoking and his foul temper. However reality really does bite...and it bites hard. Finding out that your father is not the ideal man was like a throw-down from life. Suddenly pulling out the trust from under our feet is the most painful thing that life has dealt my family. It has been a year now since the incident, and every time I remember it I still tear up and sometimes cry myself to sleep. This time, I see my mother in a different light. I see both of the in different lights. My seemingly perfect family, shattered by an old whore.
My parents are still together after that incident...my mom forgave my father. However he can never regain what he lost...what we lost. I lost my rose spectacles; my father lost our trust. So even if my father is still physically present, my heart still breaks when I hear "dance with my father." Now, I am looking at a new man...a man different from the father I knew. I know that what he did should not diminish his worth as my dad, I know that. But it feels terrible knowing that he hurt my mom...all of us. I hope one day, I can see my father again. The father that I love and respect. To my dad, I love you. Even if it hurts...
