FATHER

Janet has been to see her good friend Siew Eng and Sister Mary. She is troubled by the uncertainty of marriage life. She is happy for Siew Eng whose marriage turned out to be a happy and successful one. She could tell that Kim Soon, her husband, is a responsible man and really loves her very much. Sister Mary has advised Janet to see Dr. Gerard Lee, the marriage counselor. She is not too keen on the idea. She doesn’t think that she could gain much from him, she feels that one should really know the person before one can advise that person, especially in such private and personal matters like marriage. Perhaps she would wait for Daniel’s return so that they could go to consult Dr. Lee together. The thought of Daniel has her missing him. She retired back to her room and lied on her bed, still pondering about her future life. ‘I want to read his diary again, to make sure who he really is. I missed him so much.” She comes down from her bed and walks towards her wardrobe. She grabs the chair nearby and pulls it along and stations it in front her wardrobe. She then climbs up and stands on the chair, stretching her right hand to reach the top of her wardrobe. On top of the wardrobe is a square teak wooden box. She took down the hard wooden box, stepped down from the chair and starts walking towards her study desk. Inside the box is where she kept Daniel’s diary. He gave it to her at the airport when he went to London for studies few years ago. Janet treasured the diary, cherished the contents in it and kept it safely in the box without anyone knowing it. She lifted the lid, opened the box and proceeded to take out his diary. But it’s not just Daniel’s diary that resides in the wooden box. There are some envelopes and jewelry in the box’s custody too. She took a deep breath but is hesitant to read the diary. Janet looks pensive and carefully retrieves the two envelopes from the box. The envelopes appeared yellowish and soiled. She holds them close to her chest, is in a reflective mood as if troubled by something hidden inside these envelopes. Suddenly she is overtaken by emotions and her eyes all welled up. She opened one of the envelopes and took out the letter in it. The letter is still in good condition, because no one has ever touched it except her. She refused to read it, just kept looking and then put it back inside the envelope again. And then she started to cry. These were the letters she wrote to her father. Many years ago.

Knock knock…”Girlie, can I come in?”, Janet heard her mother’s knocks on her door. “Wait a minute mummy”. Instinctively, she wipes away her tears, straightens her louse and walks towards the door. She opens the door and lets her mother in. “Are you okay girl? I heard sobbing sounds inside your room while walking pass you door”. “It’s nothing mummy. I was just sneezing. My room has collected lots of dusts lately. I have not swept my room for awhile”. “Have you been crying? Why are you crying dear? Don’t bluff me okay? I can tell.” Janet can’t hide it from her mother. Realising it’s futile to keep the truth from her mother, Janet bursts into tears and cries even louder. Years of pent up feelings hidden inside her begin to surge out in the open. She could not control herself. Her mother steps forward to hug her tightly, looking very worried. She welcomes her mother’s warm hug and buries her face onto her mother’s bosom, sobbing uncontrollably. “What’s wrong girlie, please tell mummy. Okay? Let me go and get dad”. “No! mummy no!”, Janet suddenly lifts her head up from her mother’s chest on hearing the mention of her father. “Why not?”, Mrs. Wong asks her daughter. Janet then picks up the envelopes on the desk and reluctantly presented them to her mother. Her mother looks confused, but intuition tells her that the contents in these envelopes are the cause of her daughter’s unhappiness. Like Janet, she carefully opens one of the envelopes and starts to it. The letter was written by Janet to her father when she was 10 years old.

“Dear Father,

Please don’t be angry at me in writing this letter to you, ok? I want to talk it over with you father but I am not sure if you like it. I am afraid you might scold me. So, I think the best way I can ‘talk’ to you is by writing this letter, ok? Do you know why I write this letter to you father? It is I want you to be a father like my friends’ fathers. My classmates and their fathers are like friends, father. Their fathers laugh, play and talk with them. But, it is not my father, father. I don’t know why you are so quiet. You talk so little to me. You act as if I don’t exist at all, father. You also don’t talk much to koko and che che. Why do you behave like this father?

You know last Saturday was our school’s Graduation Day for our standard six primary school students. There was a concert and standard four girls were included in a short play in the concert. I was part of the team. I practiced so hard for it, father. Song Mei my best friend was also in the play. Her whole family came to watch her. They were sitting in the front row. They were so happy to see Song Mei performing on the stage. While I was singing on stage, I took a few peeps at Song Mei’s father. I could see that her father was so proud of her. He clapped and sang along with us, looking at her daughter’s direction all the time. He was so happy and proud. I looked for you and you were not there among the crowd. Only mummy and koko anc che che were there. Song Mei father had brought his camera to the concert. When it was Song Mei’s turn to sing, her father rushed to the foot of the stage to take photos of Song Mei. I can hear Song Mei sang louder and more cheerful when her father was snapping her photos. After the concert was over, her father even went backstage to help her change. He bought her her favourite egg meehoon and coca cola drink. I am sure mum noticed that too. She looked so lonely. I wonder how did she feel at that moment. I wanted to be like Song Mei, father. I dreamed of walking out of the concert holding your hand, with you carrying my bag of clothes. But, that cannot happen with you father. ou are so near me and yet so far, father. I felt so sad at the back stage. I wanted to cry but I held back my tears. My friends kept asking me what was wrong with me. I told them that I was sad because the play ended so soon. It is you father. I wished you were there for me.

I know you love us father. But you do not show your love to us. You don’t talk to us. You have so few words with us. But, all your friends love you, because you always tell them jokes. And you can read story books to their children, but not your own children. Why father, why? You are so strict with us and you always want to discipline us because you want us to do well in our studies. When you come home from work, you always expect us to do our homework. If we don’t, you will would be very cross and tell us not to sit in the same table with you at dinner time. You will go to your room to do your own work that you bring back from your office. During dinner time at the dinner table, you seldom talk to us. You don’t ask us how or what do we do in school. You just finished your meals and go to read your newspapers and listening to the radio. If you want to know something about us, you don’t ask us, you will ask mummy. You just sit there and watch us study or play. We have a big lounge father. Our lounge should be filled with play and laughter. Instead, it is quiet when you are around. Our lounge has no life at all. Because you are a man of few words, we are also reluctant to speak when you are around. We are worried that we may break the ‘peace’. And during school holidays you will go back to Ipoh to visit kung kung and poh poh and uncles and unties. You seldom take us along with you. I see my friends’ fathers are so good to them. They are like friends talking and laughing. But, you hardly talk to me father. We are your children, father. I feel so sad. Sometime I just cry myself to sleep asking why my father is not the same as my friends. I feel you don’t understand me, I feel like I do not exist at all. Other children’s fathers would buy toys for their children. When was the last time you brought me a toy father? It’s like showing emotions is below you. So many times I cried for your attention father, but you just ignored me. I remember when I was a baby, you would hold me in your arms. I felt the love and tenderness, keeping me safe from harm. I would look up into your eyes, and all the love I would see. I felt so warm and comfortable, I felt so lucky. Please be my friend father. Just talk to your daughter, Ok? Signed…. Your Loving Daughter, Girlie”.

Janet’s mother was overtaken by emotions. She started to cry too. She gently folds the letter and puts it inside the empty envelope. Then she proceeds to read the other letter which was written by Janet when she was 15.

“Dear Father,

I am 15 years old now, in Form 3 and growing up. I wrote you a letter 5 years ago but did not give it to you for fear of rejection. I am writing this letter to you again. I am not sure if I want to give this letter to you too. It may end up like the previous letter I wrote to you when I was 10 years old; hidden away in my wooden letterbox. The first letter I wrote to you when I was 10 years old was because I was affected by Soon Mei’s father who has shown so much love and devotion to his daughter. I was comparing you with my friend’s father. What prompted me to write you this letter is a proverb I have just read in the Reader’s Digest. The proverb says, ‘One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters’ -George Herbert. I need to write this letter, to get out of my system because it's eating me up inside.

You are a good man, father. You have provided for your family and we love you. We know you love us too. This letter isn't meant to hurt you or to upset you. It's meant more to introduce me to you. You see, you have watched me grow, but you don’t really know me. This letter isn't some sort of revenge because I'm mad at you for all the things I had to deal with growing up, without much advice from you. I picked you and mummy as my parents for some reason. I talk to friends in school, I talk to koko and che che all the time, but there are not the same, they are not my father. Little girls look up to their fathers, father. But I am sad that you have not changed much since I wrote five years ago. At home, you are still the strict disciplinarian, commander of the ship and a no-nonsense head of the family. You are still so distant to me father. You just sit there, observing everything in your mind’s eyes, without doing much talking. You still ask mummy about me instead of asking me directly. You don’t really talk to me. And when you do talk, you are not really talking with me, you just speak to me. It’s more like you giving orders and I have to follow them. And we do talk, it is like playing mind games. You wanted to find out what I am up to and I would try to figure out what are you after? Can’t we talk without any hang-ups, without any preconceived ideas, father? I am already 15 years old this year. We should be able to express our thoughts and feelings freely. I think all you think is for me to please you. To make you proud of me.

All my life I wanted a Disney dad, someone who would spend time with me, play with me, be funny, and do all the silly things with me. But, I think it is wishful thinking on my part, father. I am much older now, and I fully understand that on-screen dads are exactly that. You are always on guard, would not let your emotions show. Showing emotions is only human, father, it is not below you, it would not make you a lesser man. It is god’s gift to his children, it just makes life real. You know that you have so much influence over me? I watch your actions, your behavior and your speeches. Consciously and subconsciously, you have an effect on my personal development. And because of you, I am skeptical of every boy I come to know. Have you ever told me about the dangers a teenage daughter would face in this world, father? Have you ever warned me about the dangers of drugs and alcohol use? Have you spoken to me about my school, my friends, movies and my hobbies? Instead I have to learn it from friend’s fathers when they were teaching their daughters, from my teachers in school and from books and magazines. I wish I had you by my side. Just thinking about it makes me wanting to cry. Never being able to get to know you. We are living under the same roof, but we don’t know each other. It hurts me inside everyday that goes by. The other day, I saw Yoon Kwen’s father teaching her how to read maps and he also read political news from the newspapers to her. I really envy her for having such close bond with her father. I was secretly wishing I could have the same relationship with my own father. You don’t teach me how to live; you just live your life, and let me watch you doing it.

Mummy told me that you may appear strict and authoritative, but you were actually very shy when you were young and that in your secondary school, you wanted so much to be in the school’s debate team but your shyness prevented you from joining. You know last year, I volunteered to be in the debate team. I wanted to make you proud of me. I practiced so very hard. I invited my team members to come over to our house to hold practicing sessions so that we won’t give away our ideas to our opponents. We ended up being champions. You know the date of the debate competition father, because I had told you so. But you didn’t come, father. You were not there for me! My friend Song Mei’s father came, like he did five years ago at the school’s Graduation Day concert. She was in the opposing team this time and even though her team lost, I could see her father was still beaming with pride over her daughter. I thought that by volunteering to be in the debate team would make you proud of me. Because that's what I thought you wanted to be, and never could, so I was going to do it for you. Sadly, I now come to a very hard realization that I have spent so much of my life, trying to please you, afraid of you. I will have to give up trying to please you, father. Because, I will either go crazy for trying the impossible or I will end up hating you. I am going to do my best and if that's not good enough for you, father, you have to deal with it because it's the best I can do. You encourage me only with your occasional nods and smiles. Why are words so difficult for you, Dad? Many occasions, I went up to you to talk to you about my school and my friends, just trying to have a father-daughter conversation with you, but you just smiled and nodded. It’s only me doing all the talking, it’s a monologue! It’s like you are not capable to have carry on a prolonged conversation with your own daughter. And when you do speak, you are careful with your words, always on guard. You have trouble displaying your emotions. You are the product of your upbringing which believes that it is not macho to show emotions. There is no need for you to be on guard with us, father. We are family, and I am your daughter, father.

I guess that's all I want to tell you father. I know this will probably hurt or upset you. That is not my intention. But I find myself hiding again behind a mask, a mask I can no longer wear. I hope that this doesn't destroy our relationship. Sometimes, love doesn't make life easier, but it makes life worth it. I used to think of our relationship was one of those “silent bonds” between parents and their children, where love is understood and doesn’t need constant reassurance. You already don’t know much about me; I’m sure in your head I’m still the little girlie you held me in your arms when we didn’t converse but all you had to do was pat my head and call me “my little girlie”. You play a huge role in my development without you realizing it. I used to think that it will be easier not to think of you in my mind. You are you and I just have to ignore and live with it. But I can never lose you, father. I can never let you go. Because I find you living in me every day of my life. There are a hundred schoolmasters out there who cannot be a father. I don’t want you just as a schoolmaster, father. I want you to be a father. More so, I want you to be a Dad. My Dad. Just talk to me Dad. ……With Love, Signed….Your Girlie”.