Remembering Appa

Today, I thought of my father a number of times. The second week of June often brings memories of him because his birthday was on 10 June - often this was close to Father's Day - and coincidentally he passed away on 15 June.

This year, I travelled up to Kuala Lumpur on the 10th of June and naturally when my sister and I started talking, the conversation turned to him. M claims that my eldest sister and I were my dad's favourites. I'm not sure I remember being singled out for any such special treatment, but when I think of him, I have a sure sense he loved me. 

Mixed up with that feeling, however, is a strong sense of guilt. Because I also feel I failed him. 

I know I disappointed my father when I married D. My dad was very proud of me. I think my accomplishments were always bigger in his eyes than in mine or anyone else's. He was proud I earned a scholarship to pay for my school fees in Singapore, he was proud I had a bursary to pay for my university fees. He was proud I was a teacher. And when I told him I wanted to marry D, it was the first time I saw pain in his eyes. 

He and my mother had come for a visit to my sister's house in Singapore when I told them. The three of us shared a room that night before I left the next morning to return to my rented room, and I heard him sighing and talking in his sleep. He hardly slept that night. The next morning as I prepared to leave, he told me, "Did you think I am useless and cannot find a groom for you? You have stabbed me in the back." Those were the harshest words my father ever said to me. I have not forgotten those sorrowful words in the past 28 years.

I wonder now at the callousness with which I left that day. How wrapped up I was in my youthful love that I did not stay and at least listen to my father's pain. I wonder what dreams my father had had for me. I wonder what future he had imagined for me. And I wonder if I did the right thing. Every year, when I read Fathers' Day messages in the newspapers and on Facebook, there is a sadness inside me, a regret - for the pain I once caused; for the apology I never made.