There's this tag going on in Twitter where people reminisce about their Dad and how wonderful they are. Or sometimes, how not wonderful they're.
I want to join in but it seems it is already too late. And also it maybe too long, because I decided to tell a story that had been told a lot among the family and which tickled my husband greatly.
When I was living in Kelantan, I got to know a girl who have a horse. I always came around to her home to see and stroke the horse. The horse was a great big brown horse. Normal really, maybe not that big, but to a 10 year old eyes, it was the biggest animal she had ever set her eyes on. The horse was gentle and it seems lonely.
So everyday after I got back home, I always talk about the horse and my mother told me that I cajole everybody to let me take the horse because the owner of the horse wants to sell it. My father heard me talked about it everyday was tempted to buy it for me seeing how I seems to love the horse or maybe the idea of having a horse to talk to. (I like to talk to animals like an insane person). In my mind then, I just want the horse but not to ride it, but feed it, take it home and talk to it.
Unfortch or fortunately my mother dissuaded my father to not let me influence him into buying the horse because obviously there is an added cost of stable and so on. My father died later that year. So it is quite fortunately we don't have a horse as an added worries to my mother.
So there's the story. Of how my father who wanted to buy things that make his daughter happy even if the thing is ludicrous.
The saddest thing is, is not that I didn't get the horse ( I hope the horse gotten a nice owner and live a long prosperous life ). No. The saddest thing is that I can't remember that my father wants to buy the horse for me. Nor remember on how long I talk of the horse to my father. I only know this because my mother told me.
I am sure there is a lesson in this story. But I am not gonna hit you over the head regarding it. Just think of it yourselves.