Remember that’s where we were?
Where we walked by when the sky began to stir
We sat on the ground, side by side
Your eyes, open wide
Mouth agape in wonder
The sound of hail above like thunder
We gazed out while taking shelter
Marveling at Mother Nature
It was over in a short time
But the moment stayed in your mind
For a while every time we passed
You would always ask,
“Remember that’s where we sat?”
I don’t think I will ever forget.
Things I used to do with Ye Ye when I was little:
Walking on his back
Massaging his neck
Passive stretching his hamstrings
Going swimming
Going fishing
(Mostly not catching anything)
Going to the driving range
Watching him get frustrated because his swing wouldn’t change
Waking up before sunrise to get nasi lemak
Breakfasts at the local mamak
Sunday morning awakenings to water being splashed on my face in bed
Evenings after dinner observing him stand for ages while he prayed
We went camping in the jungle once as a bonding exercise
I remember we cooked a fish and then dropped it in the mud
He used to proudly recount about how I conversed with all the grown ups
That was really nice.
Yesterday,
During Uncle Calvin and Aunty River‘s wedding
An old friend from school and I were talking
Lou Por,
He referred mid conversation
to his wife who was sitting just adjacent
I paused for just a moment
…
As Ye Ye used to call Ma Ma by that name
A sound bite from the deep recesses of my brain
One that is still replaying
Again and again
Ye Ye is gone
But I’ve had another dream about him
In the dream he wasn’t stick thin
He was lively and vibrant, chatting away
We were having breakfast at home
Just a regular day
But something felt strange
I just had to know
Dad, for twenty days you’ve not changed
your red polo?
I don’t remember what happened after
It was dark in the room but I could still hear his laughter
Ye Ye was a dad during a different time
Things not done now were back then fine
I remember having to pick which cane
(or sometimes it was just the belt)
I can’t remember the pain
Though I can still feel my finger caressing the welts
It was a different form of discipline
Not much room for bargaining
When he was tempered he had a thunderous voice
His own way to show love for his boys
Ye Ye’s mission was just for us to be good
Have a home, a good job, and not lack for food
Although we may not have done all that he wished
He was content in the end
Dad,
Mission accomplished.
Poems for My Sons 