When I was younger I fell sick with pneumonia while on a trip with my family to France. My father carried me on his shoulders in the winter rain for several hours looking for a doctor. He had to use sign language to find his way to the Women and Children’s Hospital because most people in Paris didn’t speak English. I still remember the look of relief on his face when we found a doctor that could treat me.
The story of my father is a story of a hero who overcame financial adversity, emotional poverty and physical lack.
Born into nothing, he made something of himself.
My father in my eyes; is perfect. He is my super-hero not because he can fly me anywhere first class but because he always puts saving others before himself. I’ve never seen him turn away people genuinely desperate for help. His generosity is one that reminds me of someone who gave His son as a ransom for many. It’s impossible to fear anything when my father is in the room because he permeates a sense of authority and protection over his loved ones. In the 22 years of my life I’ve never seen him be lazy, touch alcohol, smoke cigarettes or gamble one cent. His thirst for knowledge makes Stephen Hawking look nescient. His discipline and sense of responsibility unmatched even by global leaders. His prawn sambal would bring tears of joy to Gordon Ramsey’s eyes. You think Britain’s Got Talent? You haven’t met my father.
Sometimes I regret I couldn’t be a better daughter. I regret making bad decisions that cost him to lose money. I regret making him deal with 11 luggages of my garbage from Adelaide which I have yet to unpack from my pigsty. I regret making him walk out in the rain to get me flowers for my graduation because I was afraid I wouldn’t get any. I regret not working hard enough in school to get into an ivy league school. I regret not looking harder for a good job or working hard at whatever job was given.
I wish I could be that perfect daughter to my perfect father. But through every mistake, my father held no condemnation for me but only wise advise from the goodness of his heart.
He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and still offers to carry me when I feel like a failure.
They say ‘You can’t choose your family.’ I’m pretty sure even if I could, I could never have chosen a better father than the one Jesus has blessed me with.
When I was 12, I wanted to be like my father. 10 years later, I am no where near reaching that goal.
Happy Father’s Day Papa 🙂 Thanks for always being my hero 🙂 I love you very much and I hope to make you proud one day.
Interesting fact: My father built me my own crib when I was born and my sister called it my ‘cage’.
Side note: Looking back at minute 3:25 of my father’s day video I realise how much my dancing with Eunice fell so short of my expectations.
Expectation when dancing with Eunice:
Eunice moment: There’s a ball at the castle.
Another side note: I think Zac Efron is kinda cool.
Thinking of: Keith Urban’s Song For Dad, dimples, church in 5 hours, Shankar Ne’s engagement to his bollywood princess, 40 indians on a bus to Seremban and my very talented father.