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A dim light flashing weakly not that far away
A deep breath calming the fear inside
A few more days or weeks, am I through the test of self-assurance?
A feeling of lost getting strong inside
A man and a woman I called them ‘dad and mom’ are with me for all these years
A family so closed and yet I know so little and feel so remote
A hunch that they are departing, in a few more years, or months, or even just weeks
Is that part of me completed?
An excitement of unknown creeping inside out
A fire burning quietly now glowing
A positive ‘me’ charting the future path now and yet I can’t see clearly
‘through’ and ‘completeness’ are relative terms. Perhaps, the time I felt lost and wasted was meant to prepare for better or tougher next passage of journey. Or, the doubt and struggle I was through were meant to revisit my real strengths and weaknesses. Regardless, I know stories will be very different. Hope is what I remind myself … just as what I wrote at the beginning of the 2011.
Pressure building up again in light of pressing deadline for the 2 papers and 2 exam in May. As a matter of fact, I have not done any writing though partially done with search of articles and references. There are something else in mind.
When was my last time (or actually the first time) to write something personal with him (ie my father)? March or April 1993. That’s the only one time – I wrote a letter after I witnessed a young man hit by a bus in the morning I rushed to school (while I was studying MBA at University of Queensland. I lived about half hour of the bus ride from the campus, and the bus service schedule was on hourly basis (ie if I missed that, I would be late for class at least 1 hour). Cut the story short, the young chap rode on his bike, passed me on the right side and said ‘Good day mate’. I met him almost every morning and so that’s why I recognized him. And, since he was on his bike, he would be at least a few blocks far ahead of me before I reached the bus stop. On that morning, it was the last time I heard his greeting, and the moment I saw his body on the road, it was a shock to me. On that evening, I called home and only father was around. It’s quite unusal for me to talk about something else, like what I had experienced and felt. And, surprisingly, his words gave me some comfort and a week later, I wrote a card and thank him …. though it’s a short note, but it’s also my first ever expression … ‘I love you’.
His health condition deteriorated quite rapidly since last Christmas and we had not gone out for lunch during weekend for a few months already. Yes, he also got cranky a lot too …. somehow making both my sisters and the helper quite annoying (don’t ever mention my impatience as well).
Today, we (my sister, mother and helper and me) went out (finally) for late (late) lunch, he stayed at home. Then when we came back an hour later, he was lying on the floor. He’s still conscious but very weak … cut the story short again … I felt something sad inside me. Perhaps I was over sentimental or I was right again for my hunch?
Time is getting close and short … our fate as father and daughter will soon end too. Will I be able to say it out again, face to face?
