A walk down memory lane

The friends were supposed to meet at ours and head off together with us to an exhibition. After dolling myself up, I found myself standing at the window, awaiting for their arrival. A habit which I have adopted quite recently.

While mesmerised by the white snowy view out there, it suddenly dawned on me that I inherited my newly acquired habit from my father.

As a pimpled pubertal teenager with a rebellious streak, I was not contended with cooping up in out little flat after school hours. I craved to go out to the so-called big colourful world and see what it had to offer. Which actually means loitering with my then bestest buddies into the wee hours. Our favourite hunt was Changi Airport and Parkway Parade. Okay, not exactly the Big Big World I was dreaming about...

My rebellious phase was rather trying on my parents, especially on my father. My curfew was to be home before midnight and staying over at friends' was an absolute no no. I did not comprehend his fears and worries for my safety then as my head was too giddy with fun and frolic.

While my mother would be sleeping soundly in her bed, my father would stand at the window, waiting patiently for his beloved daughter to come home, regardless how late it was and how early he had to get up the next morning for work.

It's not that my mother is indifferent. When she was a young girl herself, my maternal grandparents were very strict with my mother. Hence, as a parent, she tries her best to make sure history does not repeat itself and allows her children the free rein to enjoy the freedom which she did not have.

Anyhow, each time I came home and turned that key to our flat's door, my heart would be thumping so, bracing myself for an earful from my father. Sometimes, he would go to bed without uttering a word. At times, when I went too far and came back unfashionably late, he would blow his top and heated words would be exchanged. Once, out of his fury, he spat these words at me, 'You will only understand when you have your own children!' To which I responded by storming off to my bedroom.

Eagerly, I looked forward to my 21st birthday because he promised I could have the freedom to do whatever I desired once I attained full age.

That day finally came and went. Like magic, curfews and fights vanished altogether into thin air. I was delighted: I am free!

I relished my liberation. However, I must confess, occasionally when I staggered home after some sessions at some watering holes, a tiny weeny bit of emptiness creeped up on me at the absence of my father's back at the window.

A classic case of taking our loved ones for granted, isn't it?

My train of thought was interrupted with the friends' arrival. With nostalgia welling up in my heart, I made a quick mental note that I haven't called my folks for weeks now. I better do it soon.

Making calls back home isn't particularly one of my favourite pastime. Ours is a traditional chinese family which means we are not used to expressing our emotions freely. Hence, telephone calls are often punctured with awkward silences. We express our love in a very typical chinese way through questions such as how have you been, have you eaten, etc. Usually these conversations do not last more than 10 mins.

Even so I make it a point to call my folks as often as I can. Guiltiness is the culprit because I feel by not being at their sides, I fail in my duty as their daughter. The least I can do for them is to dial that number.