After all that running away, I have realised that my family is my rock and yes, they have strongly shaped and influenced who I have become today. And I do realise that my family ain't that bad - in fact, they're damn good, and I'm lucky to have them. Distance has helped us appreciate each other more and see each other as individual human beings, rather than the bossy older sister or the whiny younger one.
So, I am always dead proud of any of my siblings achievements because I know they're good and I know they deserve it. I don't always say it, because intimate feelings are something we're still shy about discussing and there's still that childhood habit of taking the mickey out of each other rather than praising because that's 'way uncool'. So actually, I am awed that my mum brought up 5 kids near single-handedly and still had time to become a much loved and respected teacher. I am proud that my brother 'the terror' that I boycotted when I was 16, and only a year older than me is now a smug family man who was promotted to assisstant manager within 4 months of starting his new job in a company with few foreigners. I am amazed at my "overly-sensitive" younger sister who tackles all her hobbies (surfing, swimming, caving, wall-climbing, DJ-ing) with passion and fearlessness. I respect the witty, thoughtful and incisive comments of my youngest sister, who inspired me to start a blog but used to inspire envy and hatred for all her attention grabbing baby of the family ways. And my eldest sister, who used to boss me around so much, can still move me with her warmth and affection, with and without words. Just when I was twelve and I used to eagerly flip through her tattered jotter book to read the next installment of her teenage saga that she had written, I look forward to her next article in the Malaysian press.
It is actually her latest that has started me thinking of family and what they mean to me. Of course, I'm sat at home on my own on a weekday with the sink overflowing with dishes and a floor that badly needs sweeping, looking at a pile of clothes that won't dry because there is no sun. But it's times like these that it's nice to know you've got family, isn't it?
Anyway, just check out my sister's affectionate tribute to our dad for Father's Day. You can read the rest of her output by clicking on the link to The Sun website and typing her name in search.
P.S. As to what makes me proud of my dad? Ditto below.
My dad, the hero
by Mona ----------This is the story of a man who when asked by my mother how he was going to come up with the money to fund my brother's university education in Ireland replied without the slightest hesitation that he would do so with the help of the Almighty.
"What, do you think that US$3 million (RM10.5 million) will drop out of the sky?" asked my hardly secular mum.
"I am a good man. Only good things will happen to me," was Dad's answer.
This is the same man who on the day this article is published will dutifully cut it out, paste it neatly on pristine white A4 paper, laminate it and distribute it to all and sundry in the Klang Valley.
Like Eminem's Stan, my dad's probably my biggest fan.
As I am his.
Father's Day would have come and gone by the time this piece goes to print but this year I am giving tradition a miss. It's out with the Hallmark-enriching and tree-killing pre-manufactured tributes which would hardly do him justice. And yes, he really can do without his 1001th novelty Homer Simpson/Dilbert tie which his kids would buy him on this day for a good laugh.
This year, I'd like to do something special for the man who built the "Leaning clothes line of P Jaya" and to record my eternal gratitude to him for signing my report card without batting an eye despite the string of red marks on it. I could get away with a lot less with my eagle-eyed mum.
Growing up it was never quite clear what role my dad played in the parents-children relationships dynamics but it was certainly not that of the disciplinarian. That was Mum's role. According to her, if she had let my Dad bring us up, we would have grown up to become - no disrespect intended to those in the profession but political correctness was never one of her strong points - "artis."
Dad was the Minister of Fun. His range of duties included taking us out to the park
on weekends, outings to the mall of the moment, teaching us how to do cartwheels, and while my Mum thinks of McDonald's as the spawn of the Devil, Dad certainly did not see any harm in letting us have Double double cheese burgers and Cherry Coke for breakfast.
Every once in a while he would be seized by some urge to have an adventure. These were spur of the moment decisions. We would embark on some road trip, unprepared, five children squeezed into the back and the parents in front. We would get hopelessly lost in the middle of Ulu Wherever with Dad refusing to ask for directions, the petrol in the tank at dangerously low levels and Mum fuming.
Stories of misadventures with Dad kept my colleagues entertained and howling with laughter for many a lunch hour and I fear he may have been unfairly caricaturised as a cross between Mr. Bean, Homer Simpson and Peter Crouch.
There is of course more to the man than that.
He was a tough tennis coach for one.
"Keep your eyes on the ball !" he'd yell as my eyes strayed over to catch a glimpse of the hottie playing on the adjacent court and I'd be caught like a deer in the headlights as the little yellow dots came fast and furiously toward me.
While my mother's figure continues to loom large in our lives, Dad shaped us and taught us lessons in life in his own quiet way. He was not of the unapproachable and
preachy type of father. Not of the present but absent variety either. And it was a bit too early for the Sensitive New Age Guy Dad. Dad molded us not so much by the things he told us but by being the person he was. His lessons however would not kick in until we reached adulthood and started our own working lives.
In this age of moral relativism and Enrons that we live in, Dad's example has been a constant guide for me in negotiating my way through the often tricky waters of modern corporate life. Honesty and sincerity in doing your work. Knowledge, use it or lose it (this includes sharing it). Passion and perseverance in everything you do, whether it's drafting legislation or selling bananas. There's no pride to be taken in winning in an unfair competition. Every cloud has a silver lining. A good turn never goes unrewarded. No problem is too complex to explain with a good flowchart.
Dad's approach and philosophy to life might sound naive and overly optimistic in this day and it sometimes dismays and exasperates us to see people around him take advantage of it.As for me, the more I think of it, the more I think that he can't be all wrong. While Mum's still waiting for that US$3 million to fall from the sky, things do seem to work out for Dad in the end. My brother, for one, did get to study in Ireland.
Like Dad said, he's a good man and only good things will happen to him.
Mona dedicates this piece to her Dad and would like to wish him a belated Happy Father's Day. She would also like to confess that she was the one who used to raid his wardrobe for shirts and ties and that it was not her brother. Comments: feedback@thesundaily.comArticle taken from web edition of The Sun newspaper, Malaysia. Copyright 2006 Sun Media Corporation Sdn Bhd.
Comments
The funny thing is, when we were growing up, you were the sibling I envied the most. I felt like I had to scream, yell and make an idiot of myself to get attention whereas you simply commanded it by merely being present (well, in most cases when you're not pulling your muka bodoh). Damn, Miss Malaysia. Muahahaha.
But I think envy now has been replaced by respect and affection.
(eee...err.... sentimental moment.... tak nak go on lah!)
Gah! You GIT