Letter to my Father
Daddy,
How have you been?
No really, how have you been? Give some thought to my question before you dismiss me with an ‘Ok’. Really ok? Somewhat ok? Not ok but aiyah it’s too much to discuss and anyway you can’t do anything about it ok?
We’ve never really been able to have heart to hearts. You may feel that I’m such a hypocrite to lambast Mum one day and speak up for her the next. But Daddy, I do that with you too. Cos I don’t truly hate either of you and although I don;t like either of you much, I love you. And with Mum, I can sit down and talk things through, never mind if we understand each other imperfectly.
So why don’t you and I talk? Maybe it’s the whole male macho shit. Maybe Ah Ma never taught you how to express your feelings. Maybe you feel that telling me would only cause me to feel more burdened, or even worse, despise you. Maybe you just don’t trust me. Maybe there’s nothing to be said, not after so many years of silence. Maybe we’re just both too proud and too hot-headed. Maybe you think I’m on Mum’s side. Maybe you think I’m a kid who can’t handle adult issues. Maybe you think no one understands you.
I believe it’s all of the above.
And so through the years, we allow whatever negative feelings we’ve developed for each other to build up, and sometimes we get really disgusted. Familiarity breeds contempt. But always, strangely, at unexpected moments, we bond, we love and we laugh, we share and we care, and all the unhappiness is water under the bridge. Blood is thicker than water after all.
If only life were as simple and as pithy as those trite proverbs.
The reality confronting us is that we are running low on cash and our house is not fully paid-up. We are a bunch of strangers living in a big, silent house. We are suspicious and disdainful of one another. Sis and I seem to be in our own worlds, treating this place as a hotel, Bro seems to spend too much time on the computer, Mum seems to have become very silent (we must applaud her determination to change her lifestyle and attitudes, even if she’s not entirely successful).
I admire how you and Mum try not to worry too much, being consumed by the daily act of making a living. I suppose life was simpler in the past eh, less choices and therefore less fretting. Unfortunatley I’m a worrier, and much as I have tried not to, I know now that the financial burden is taking a toll on each of us in the family. I want to have peace of mind to plan my own future. Holly wants to graduate without a hitch and be able to spend her paychecks on nice clothes and good food. Peng wants to stop being reminded of the fact that not attending uni could lead to less job security. And you know it too, but you choose to escape, to believe that matters will resolve themselves. And I’m telling you they will not.
But hang on. Who am I to say anything? What do I know? Who am I to criticise or advise you? You’re right, it’s not really my place to say anything. But I’ve decided that I have to make certain things clear to you, even though I cannot force you to accept or understand them.
Firstly, I am not crazy. I am not proud of continuing to draw a salary while I don’t report for work.
Secondly, I am unable to fully relax each day or night that I am at home, because seeing you frittering your days away pains and vexes me. Yes, you can tell me it’s none of my business. But unfortunately I’m unable to treat your constant presence as something that’s routine, not when it affects everybody’s morale. Call me calculating and selfish if you must, but you have to try to change your circumstance. Try harder. Stop asking for our understanding when you have given us none. Stop shouting at us to respect and obey you when there isn’t much to look up to. We have been taught that kinship, loyalty and familial love matter, and we will never forget those values, but we are also only human, and for someone who has hardly raised us to expect us to now meekly take care of him and not question him, I’m sorry, I think I’m unable to do so. I’ve always wanted to please, and look where it’s gotten me.
Yes, I grew up on both yours and Mum’s salaries, but only on her love. I never knew of a father once I started Primary Three. It seemed that you became a shadow of your former self. You became distant and miserly. Of course at that age I wasn’t aware that you and Mum had terrible rows over your seeming ineptness and over money, and that you grew to resent each other more and more while your own pride was taking a beating. I didn’t know the extent of your neglect for us for I was still a child with my own childish concerns and pursuits. But I distinctly remember the later half of my P5 year as being filled with pain. Of standing in my room and wanting to smash the lovely lamp that was purple and my favourite, of wanting to run away from home, of tears streaming down my cheeks. Those tears I remember because they were a rite of passage. I’d never cried because I felt emotional pain before that. Sure I’d cried when I fell, when I got punished, or when I didn’t top the level in P2. But this time the pain ate into my heart, and I remember thinking that no matter what I mustn’t allow you and mummy to get divorced. I prayed desperately, and for the first time I paid attention during chapel and sang the Sunday school hymns with gusto.
Of course in time I got over it, because things seemed to stabilize, and to a young child, who cares if her parents are irreparably unhappy with each other, so long as the family is intact? That was what I wished for–to have a happy family. But the cracks didn’t heal, and the strain just got worse, but I coped in my own practical ways. I berated myself for not being a good girl and promised God that I would be good if he didn’t take my parents away. I would spend hours thinking about with parent to follow, weigh the pros and cons, decide what jobs I was going to take up to supplement the household income, think about how cool it could possibly be to be part of a single parent family, threaten Peng and Holly about who got to go over to ‘the other side’ if they didn’t play with me, try to wheedle salary amounts out of you and Mum so I could make the best arrangements for everyone financially.
As you know, the divorce never happened, and here we are in 2006, Mum with nearly 30 years of heartache and grievances, you with 20 years of failure and frustration, and 3 children who love their parents dearly but also wish to break away from all the nonsense.
Daddy, stop telling me that you’re waiting for us to grow up so that you can divorce Mum after so many years of tolerating her nonsense. If you are not aware of it, Mum actually is tired of your threats and says you are free to leave. And then we can have the acrimonious end that we’ve been delaying. You two can become virtual strangers overnight.
The truth of it is that you need us, although I’m not certain that we need you. Yes I am a heartless ingrate. But I have tried speaking to you both, created opportunities for healing, buit I’m past the ‘take sides or be completely neutral’ stage. I cannot bear to let my family break apart any longer. But I am not able to pull it together unless everyone cooperates. And I believe that Mum, despite her ways, has tried. But you are too stubborn to see it. Sure there is emotional baggage between us, but at least I can talk to her. You are like a blank, cold wall. I know you think that leaving us alone is great. Sure we appreciate breathing space. But you’ve kept us far far away for years, so much so that we no longer know how to relate to you anymore.
They say that children model their behaviours on their parents. Well I can see many faults in mine that I probably have picked up or will inherit. Some I will be able to shake off, some will drive me or those close to me nuts. You say you accept me for who I am. I would love to say that to you too. But today I cannot allow myself to just forget about it and keep silent for fear of creating tension and showing disrespect. Much as I love you, we cannot live like this any longer. Already, work has caused me stress. My home environment is another huge stress factor that I haven’t even begun to truly come to terms with.
I know you will get defensive. All 5 of us are like that. We don’t take criticism very well. We tend to think it’s personal, that we know better already. But I need to say it. (Please bear with your naive and stubborn daughter who is still wishing for a non-dysfunctional family. I am slowly but surely earning to accept and deal with the situation).
- Put your pride aside and go get a job. Stop creating excuses for yourself. You’ve lived a lie. But there’s still time to be brave, strong and honest. It’s been a good life even if you’ve had to suppress some desires. Even though Mum’s crazy at times, she’s fed and clothed us well, and we have been very lucky. You may want to disagree but that’s between you and your conscience. Also, in this letter I am addressing my concerns about you not her, so we’ll leave her bad behaviours out of the picture for the time being. I am aware that I may be biased as she has shown much love towards her children, especially me, and neglected your needs in the process, and that brings me to my next point.
- why did you choose to ignore us just because you felt that Mum was neglecting you? What a very spiteful thing to do. You are the most educated of your siblings, and they seem to think you are a wise and successful man, but your school seemed to only have given you hardware, not heartware. I know it must have been very difficult for you to have been retrenched and had to live with someone as demanding as Mum. But she has had her share of bad karma too, so why don’t you just put your fucking pride aside and look at things positively? Why are you so petty and childish? How can you advise your children to grow up to be good, responsible citizens when you are hardly a role model yourself? Where were you when I needed your advice and opinion? You were hardly the strong, silent type. All you did was go out, work, come back and eat a lot, watch TV and take 1 hr-long showers. You never paid for meals out, never planned a surprise for your wife or kids, never asked about our days at school, never gave polysyllabic answers, never told interesting stories, never had an opinion on the pop star on TV or the PAP, never woke up early to help Mum prepare us for school. Maybe you didn’t know how too, but let’s face it, truth is that you didn’t really care to. You wanted everything prepared for and served to you. Your main grievance towards Mum is that she doesn’t cook lavish meals for you anymore and expects you to find your own dinner. Not the best way of performing her wifey duties I agree, but is that enough for you to loathe her? Let’s be reasonable here. It’s been 20 years. Because of Mum’s love and care I’ve made it thus far. You didn’t speak a word about my scholarship except to tell me to use the Government’s money because it’s the smart thing to do. You might as well have been absent from my life. When I was in Sec 2 I had a row with you and we didn’t speak for 3 months. Those were terrible days for me, and I would cry myself to sleep. I’d think about it at school and I dreaded taking the bus home and having to face you. I was wracked with guilt and wondered how I could apologise. But it was not only fear that kept me back. It was also because by then I had a sense of how unfeeling you were, how you chose to avoid problems, how you were a self-righteous bastard.
- How much is pride worth to you? Can you live on pride? You were the first to criticise Mum for purchasing this condo. I know that you have little ambition in life. That you’ve always wanted an easy job where everyone takes your orders and a small flat to retire in at 50. But life has a way of throwing curveballs in our path. Now that you’re almost 60, you’re sitting at home each day, bored beyond your wits because you have few hobbies and not enough money to go out gallivanting each day. But haven’t you enjoyed staying here? How could you be foolish enough to think that Mum will be able to pay the bills each month? I know you think it’s shameful to ask your own son for money. But you’ve actually done it. To me it’s strange that you don’t find it shameful to wait for your wife, who too is unemployed and spending her own money on treatment for her leg, to provide every meal. She is fasting, and yet she has to prepare meals for you or buy them from the coffee shop down the road. When she couldn’t walk properly, you went around with a black face because she didn’t cook. Who can believe that your life is miserable when your belly keeps expanding and you continue telling relatives that you are so swamped with work? When your wife tells you that savings are running low, you don’t say a word. When asked about your job hunt, you say you’ve tried everything, but all I see are clippings of cushy positions. You sleep at
3am, wake at 11am and then spend the day playing solitaire. You quit three jobs within the span of 6 months, saying your bosses are assholes. Help me, I can’t make sense of this! I have tried, but each time I empathized, you took it as a sign that I condoned your actions. And you would advise me to just grin and bear it at work!
- It’s ok to have low self-esteem. Many people have that, and I am not always secure about myself. But if having low self-esteem means having to shout loudly at others and resort to using all sorts of vulgarities, if it means criticizing your successful relatives because you think they look down on you, but you don’t actually do something to prove to yourself that you are worthy of praise and admiration or that you are actually comfortable in your own skin, then you are very sad indeed. The world is full of jackasses, but please stop to think about what you can offer the world before you begin your next rant.
I am not saying there’s nothing good about you. But you can be so much more! You can be a witty and doting father. And we can have chicken rice and chuckle about Mum’s ‘one-kind character’. I know you want me to be happy. And I will be, and I hope you will be happy with me. Stop thinking about striking 4D and just start being a hardworking person ok? Mum fell in love with an image she had of you, and although you may not have lived up to that image, you don’t have to keep disappointing her. You can still keep your promises, just by doing simple things like showing more concern for your son, listening to her complain about her pains for five minutes without saying it’s all imaginary, offering to buy dinner, doing the dishes with less gallons of water…Believe me these effortless acts will make all the difference in the world! And once you change yourself you may find that she is much pleasanter to live with. And remember, you are married after all. There must be some great force that brought you together and is keeping you together!
I’m speaking to you as though you’re my peer and that is very disrespectful isn’t it? But I don’t know any other way. Each time I tried to talk to you, I ended up shutting up or crying, because you went too far with your authoritative figure stance. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been well brought-up. I believe that I would not have been held back by so much protocol. I think my sister is foolish to form an alliance with you just because you two have a common enemy in Mum. Listening to the two of you,with your self-righteous and self-congratulatory banter is too much for me. I admire Bro for being able to live with you and Mum day in day out with no escape hatch. You can him a useless good-for-nothing. Like father like son remember?
At least he has ideas. You have random scribblings and lottery dreams and a mindset that refuses to budge because you are too set in your haughty, blinkered ways.
If I allow myself to dwell on all the unhappiness, I may become a bitter old lady like Mum. After all we are often blind to our own faults, and self-reflection can be too close for comfort. I am also no sage or saint. As such I hope that with this letter I close this chapter. For whether we like it or not, we can choose our friends but not our family.
But please dad, I am still hoping for the day when we all put our differences aside and work hard towards a greater good. We need a radical shift in attitudes. Every single one of us. You have to trust me on this.
Let’s have a heart to heart one of these days?
Best,
Da4 Hai2
