0200 hrs 30th September 2009

It was

the longest flight

I ever took.

I flew home

to bury my father.

Tears streamed down

my cheeks.

My neighbour asked

is everything ok?

My dad passed away

this morning,

he gave me a tissue.

Memories flooded back,

in the drone of the aircraft.

I was at Stephen's.

We were watching some boys

playing a game of rounders.

Pa I want to play.

He walked up to the boys.

Who is captain of team?

A boy lifted up his hand

My son want to play

let him play.

The boy's face showed dismay

I was barely taller

than the bat.

But you don't argue

with a grown up

in Ray Ban sunglasses.

Just hit the ball hard

and run to where that boy is.

He pointed at 1st base.

We were losing.

We had boys

at 1st base

2nd base

and 3rd base.

I was the last batsman.

Boon, hit the ball hard

and run!!!

The ball came flying in,

I swung the bat.

Was not even close.

This is becoming silly.

I never played this game before

and probably never will again.

The ball came flying in again,

I missed again.

Boon, hit the ball hard

and run!!!

This was my last chance.

The ball came flying in again,

I swung my body

and the bat connected sweetly.

The ball flew across the field

towards Siglap Primary.

Boon RUN!!!

I dashed towards 1st base.

But dad was still yelling

The boys were squealing

in a way only primary boys could.

I was confused.

I thought I did as I was told.

Boon RUN!!!

He pointed at 3rd base.

I ran again

towards 3rd base.

The boys squealed.

NO!!! 2nd base!!!

The ball was so far

I had the time

to run from 3rd base

to 2nd base.

The sound of his joyous laughter

rang in my ears,

as I made

my home run.

I was the hero.

More importantly,

I was Dad's hero

for that precious few seconds.

Dad taught me

never to doubt

Hit the ball hard

and run.

A few years later,

I was more interested

in football.

I could shoot

with both feet.

And over 10-20 metres

no kid could outrun me.

But I was one third

the size of

Jerome Aeira.

Dad bought Mr Sheperdson

some drinks.

And Mr Sheperdson

asked me to train

with the school team.

Naturally I never made it

to the first team.

But training with the big boys

was blissful enough.

And Dad knew it.

He never allowed

my lack of height

or stature

to handicap myself.

When I was in Primary 1,

a bigger kid

slapped my ear.

When Dad came

to pick me up

after school,

I was tearful.

Boon, who bully you???

He bellowed,

in that loud resonating voice.

I shooked my head

in defiance,

looking out

of his van's window.

He held my little hand,

tell me who bully you???

I walked hand in hand

with Dad,

sobbing openly now,

and pointed out that kid.

You bully my son???

He left me alone

after that

never saw him again

after PSLE.

36 years later,

in his hazy state of dementia,

he whispered to me

Boon, who bully you???

Then it suddenly became clear

His entire life

was spent protecting me

even in his frail later years

he remained crystallised

in his protective ways.

He used to bring the family

to Palm Beach Bedok

for seafood.

He would just serve us,

as we devour the food.

He would only eat

some fried rice

and beers.

All his life,

he wanted to provide.

He reckoned

by not eating,

there would be more

for us to eat.

Watching us enjoy

was enjoyment enough

for him.

Dad, you gave and gave

till there was no more life energy

left in you.

Giving to your family,

was your entire being.

My greatest achievement

in Life

would be the father

you once were.

My greatest failure

would be otherwise.

Rest in Peace Dad,

I love you always