Chapter 3
My father called this morning.
It was the first time he’d called since we were at the hospital. He has been really quiet since the incident. As much as he’s my father, I don’t think anyone is born prepared to know how to console his own son for a tragedy like this. There is simply no training course on being a father, and if anything, it’s more of a trial and error process. Fathers and sons.
What is he supposed to say anyway?
“Take care, son, everything will be okay”?
“Time can cure anything”?
My father is a typical no-nonsense person. Coming from a humble background, he believes “talk is cheap” and “you are what you do”. He doesn’t feel the need of nor have the habit of saying things just for the sake of it, because most people in those situations would. He is always looking for a solution, and if he can’t offer one, he’d prefer to remain quiet.
So, after all the quiet, here comes his solution – he wants to move in with us.
My father has been living by himself for a few years now, ever since my mother passed away. It must have been difficult for him, because they were really close. It’s almost too cliché, though true, to say that it’s impossible for anyone to imagine them being apart. Yet he has shown remarkable resilience. He insists to live by himself, despite the fact my sister has been trying to persuade him to live with her. And he is seemingly doing quite well, too. He cooks his own food, continues to meet his friends, and stays in pretty good shape and spirits.
I was not sure if it would be a good idea for my father to move in with us. I kept quiet and never made the offer. In fact, I didn’t even make a token gesture. Apart from the problem that our apartment is a lot smaller than my sister’s, Emily and I enjoyed our freedom too much to have another person living in our home. In fact, it’s probably more on me – Emily was actually rather supportive of having him moving in.
My father and I are close, but not ‘best friends’. I’ve never considered my father as my friend. I have more than enough friends. Why do I need another friend? I just want him to be my father! We don’t want to show too much emotion. As long as we know we care about each other and understand that we are each other’s ‘last resort’, that’s more than enough.
And it’s no different this time.
“Dad, I know you want to help, but I really don’t think this is a good idea. Not now, anyway. I need some time myself.”
“Look, son, this is not about helping you. I don’t want to live by myself anymore. It’s becoming boring. What’s more? It would be awesome to play with David! You know, I really didn’t get to do that when you and your sister were a baby. I was too busy at work!”
“I really don’t know.” It’s tough to say no, especially when it’s your father, who is literally begging you.
“You need someone at home so you can go to work anyway!”
“Dad, I have already asked for a sabbatical – I am taking this year off.”
“Well, it’s too late. I am selling my apartment, so I need a place to stay.”
“What?!”
“You know it more than I do. The property market has gone crazy. It’s the right time to sell it off now. And don’t worry, I will pay you rent. I have too much money to spend after selling this place.”
My father is great at investing. I almost had no choice but to believe his primary motive to move in with me was not to take care of me, but actually trying to make a profit on the property market.
In any case, I can sense that he’s already decided.
“I don’t have much to pack anyway. I threw away most stuff when your mum left. Heck, I can’t bring any of it to my grave. I can literally be at your place tomorrow.”
After the call, I am still trying to figure out what to make of it.
I know my father is trying to help. I understand his good intentions. He is saying all the right things so I will let him move in, but I really don’t need his help. More accurately, he can’t help. For one, he has never taken care of a baby before. As he said, he was too busy at work when we were born. I can hardly remember his presence, other than his random rants about us not studying hard enough.
Many say one should control his own destiny. Be the CEO of your own life. Yet, I feel like whilst I may be the CEO of my life, my father is definitely the Chairman of the Board, or at least an influential investor. My job as a CEO is to execute his vision. I am heavily influenced, if not intimidated, by his mere presence. When I got my job and moved out, I felt it was the first time I have gained my freedom. I have bought back my company, and I am not prepared to give it up anytime soon.
However, as confused, if not frustrated, as I was, I am glad that during the call, I did not say, “I don’t need another burden right now!”
That was definitely what I was thinking. ‘Burden’ may be too harsh, but there is definitely more work, physically and emotionally, to handle another person in the household.
David just started crying again. The constant crying is starting to get to me. Yes, they call him a colicky baby, and there are medical reasons behind this behaviour, but it doesn’t make my life less miserable.
I can’t recall if I’ve actually had a chance to smile at David ever since he was born. On the other hand, all the chaos makes me think less about the future as I did before. Maybe this is for the best—taking baby steps rather than racing ahead on this journey, which we all take only once.
Enough of this. Back to the making milk and change of diapers again.
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