Ever since I was really little, I thought of my dad as a hero.
I have very fond memories of my childhood because of him. He used to take me to Wisma at orchard almost every other Saturday afternoon. And because it was so expensive to park in town, we would take a train. And my happiest moments are those when he carried me on his shoulder as we watched the colourful fishes in the aquarium around the bubble lifts.
This is the same guy who drove to my kindergarten during his lunchtime just to watch me take my snack at recess time, from behind the pillars. Just to make sure I was doing fine. He told me about this when I was older and I could still see the pride in his eyes when he told me how he was really proud of me because I was so independent and sociable.
This is also the same guy who woke up early every single morning to send me to school, so that I wouldn’t have to wake up early to wait for the school bus. And I remember in the evenings when school ended when I was in primary school, we would line up at the school porch for the national anthem and school song and announcements, and I would look over my shoulder to try to spot my dad, and he would always be waiting outside the school gates, with his arms folded but giving me the biggest smile.
The chauffeuring has never stopped. And even now, when I’m already a mother, he still says to me “be careful when you cross the roads”, “be careful when you drive”.
I think i’ll always be his little girl and he will always be my hero.