My favorite topics when I have a mundane talk with my parents is story of their childhood. What kind of traditional games they played, their school and their friends. Most of the stories are happy story. But when the topic switched to my grandfathers, sometimes it became a sad story.
Both of my grandfathers died when my mom and dad were little kids. So the grandchildren (including me) never get to see them. But that never stop us to know them. We keep asking what do they look like? What would it be when they were still here? And so many what ifs.
My mom said she doesn’t remember how her dad looks like. “But I do remember he bathed me once with your uncle.” In case we still curious about his face, she told me just to look at my uncle. The elders said that they look alike. Well, like father like son. That means my grandfather was handsome then, because my uncle is. Hehe…
She said there was time when she envied other children for still having a father but her’s passed away. So unfair. “One day at the amusement park, there was a little girl walking hand in hand with her father. I kept staring at them while thinking how great it must be if my dad were still here.” Gah, I want to hug my little-mom. Where’s the time machine when I need one?
When she shared the story with her grandmother, grandma said, “It’s okay that your father’s gone. You still have us here, we love you and your brother.”
That’s true. She had so many father figure. Those I my father figure too, even though I still have my dad. Right, I still have my dad. And thank you that you’re still here, Dad.