To my father
My dad was very excited for me to go on this trip. When I was first deciding where to go on vacation and I asked him to ask his travel agent for quotes on flights to Japan, he was the one who got her to find out how much it would cost to add in Singapore/Malaysia. The thought of visiting my parents' homeland hadn't really occurred to me as an option before.
My dad was very excited for me to go on this trip. In the months leading up to my departure, he would always ask me about how my planning was going. I had contacted some family members to let them know I was coming, but little else in the way of actual concrete plans. Little did I know that he was also in touch with some of those same family members, and he was consulting with them behind the scenes. In fact, on my last visit to Toronto, he kept nagging me about letting my aunty Winnie know exactly what I wanted to do well in advance of my arrival (I think I still had 4 or 6 weeks left to go) - he wanted to tell her so she would know. I got mad and yelled at him, saying that I had already been in contact with her, that we had already made some tentative plans that were just fine at this point in time, and that I was perfectly capable of emailing her myself if and when those plans should change. After all, I was 30 and I had been to friggin' Africa and it wasn't as if I had never travelled on my own before.
My dad was very excited for me to go on this trip. He bought me a very nice 3-piece red luggage set and told me exactly which pieces to bring and how I should stow away my carry-on luggage (the small red wheely case goes in the overhead compartment, the small red handbag goes by your feet under the seat in front of you.) He also took me shopping for gifts for the family members.
My dad was very excited for me to go on this trip. In the weeks leading up to my departure, he would call me every few days and ask if I had packed my suitcase yet. When I invariably said no, he said that I should put out my large suitcase and pack a few things every day -- that way I would know exactly what I had and exactly what I needed. I yelled at him. After all, I was 30 and I had been to friggin' Africa and it wasn't as if I had never travelled on my own and never packed my own suitcase before.
[In the end, of course I stayed up until 2 a.m. throwing things in a pile in the suitcase in a panic, and had to get up at 5 in order to make my flight.]
My dad was very excited for me to go on this trip. He called me the night before I left and wished me a good trip.
He also called when I arrived at the Singapore airport over 24 hours later.
He also called the day after that. And the day after that. I yelled at him for calling me so much. The rest of the family snickered because my dad is the eldest and he is forever lecturing and scolding them for whatever reason.
He didn't call the day after that.
But he did call two days later. And then every day after that, until I left Aunty Winnie's place and moved to Wendy and Bok Mun's. And I yelled at him every time. I told him he was being annoying.
I think my dad wanted to be on this trip with me. He comes back for a visit every autumn, so it's not as if he misses the place and the people so much. But this was a special occasion for me, since I hadn't been back in 10 years. He wanted to know my reactions to things. He wanted to know what I was eating and how I was enjoying the food. He wanted to know what I thought about the various people I met at the big family reunion in KL with all the cousins and grand-aunties and second cousins.
He was just being a dad.
And you know what?
I'm glad.
I'm glad that he nagged me about getting a luggage lock so that my stuff wouldn't get stolen. I'm glad that he made sure I was well taken care of by his sisters. I'm glad that he is actually interested in what I ate for lunch today.
I'm glad that my dad was excited for me to go on this trip.
Thanks, Dad, for caring. I love you!
My dad was very excited for me to go on this trip. In the months leading up to my departure, he would always ask me about how my planning was going. I had contacted some family members to let them know I was coming, but little else in the way of actual concrete plans. Little did I know that he was also in touch with some of those same family members, and he was consulting with them behind the scenes. In fact, on my last visit to Toronto, he kept nagging me about letting my aunty Winnie know exactly what I wanted to do well in advance of my arrival (I think I still had 4 or 6 weeks left to go) - he wanted to tell her so she would know. I got mad and yelled at him, saying that I had already been in contact with her, that we had already made some tentative plans that were just fine at this point in time, and that I was perfectly capable of emailing her myself if and when those plans should change. After all, I was 30 and I had been to friggin' Africa and it wasn't as if I had never travelled on my own before.
My dad was very excited for me to go on this trip. He bought me a very nice 3-piece red luggage set and told me exactly which pieces to bring and how I should stow away my carry-on luggage (the small red wheely case goes in the overhead compartment, the small red handbag goes by your feet under the seat in front of you.) He also took me shopping for gifts for the family members.
My dad was very excited for me to go on this trip. In the weeks leading up to my departure, he would call me every few days and ask if I had packed my suitcase yet. When I invariably said no, he said that I should put out my large suitcase and pack a few things every day -- that way I would know exactly what I had and exactly what I needed. I yelled at him. After all, I was 30 and I had been to friggin' Africa and it wasn't as if I had never travelled on my own and never packed my own suitcase before.
[In the end, of course I stayed up until 2 a.m. throwing things in a pile in the suitcase in a panic, and had to get up at 5 in order to make my flight.]
My dad was very excited for me to go on this trip. He called me the night before I left and wished me a good trip.
He also called when I arrived at the Singapore airport over 24 hours later.
He also called the day after that. And the day after that. I yelled at him for calling me so much. The rest of the family snickered because my dad is the eldest and he is forever lecturing and scolding them for whatever reason.
He didn't call the day after that.
But he did call two days later. And then every day after that, until I left Aunty Winnie's place and moved to Wendy and Bok Mun's. And I yelled at him every time. I told him he was being annoying.
I think my dad wanted to be on this trip with me. He comes back for a visit every autumn, so it's not as if he misses the place and the people so much. But this was a special occasion for me, since I hadn't been back in 10 years. He wanted to know my reactions to things. He wanted to know what I was eating and how I was enjoying the food. He wanted to know what I thought about the various people I met at the big family reunion in KL with all the cousins and grand-aunties and second cousins.
He was just being a dad.
And you know what?
I'm glad.
I'm glad that he nagged me about getting a luggage lock so that my stuff wouldn't get stolen. I'm glad that he made sure I was well taken care of by his sisters. I'm glad that he is actually interested in what I ate for lunch today.
I'm glad that my dad was excited for me to go on this trip.
Thanks, Dad, for caring. I love you!
Aww...Isha, you made me tear up at work.
ReplyDeleteI am so glad to hear that you are having a good time. We miss you and we cannot wait to see you when you get back!!
(This is actually blogger-less Sarah)
Sarah.
ReplyDeleteWhy do you have a beard?
And why do you look like you're drawn on paper!??!?
:)
Isha, I don't think the sentiment can be expressed any better than by our SMAC.
Even though I'm in a different city, I still miss you.
DAMMIT!
:)