In Memory Of

my dad's disabled friend who passed away few months ago.

As a kid, my life outside our bay would cover swimming pools where my dad worked part time, my aunt's, my uncle's, my greatuncles'/greataunt's, home for the disabled and a house owned by Chinese mother and son.

The latter two where I would pass my time contemplating things as a kid whilst my dad played dam haji with his disabled friend.

My dad friend is a chinese man, slightly older than my dad and is confined to his wheelchair.

He alternated between home for the disabled and his mother's.

He maked sounds rather than speaking but I know my father did understand him after years of playing dam aji with him.

Now as a young lady, I realise how significant was our handshake and his gestures.

How he managed to greet me, a kid who usually adult don't greet, with his limited mobility.

He always smile, showing his kinda ugly teeth ^.^

When he won, he would 'laugh' with delight and when abah won, I heard grumblings.

He would put the piece in a way that u can hear it thuds loudly.

Thanks to him, at a young age, I was exposed to how some people are born physically deficit than others but still manage to keep living and making the most out of their inability.

When we were at the home, I would gaze at the pool, thinking how they put the disables in it.

That home was occupied by Chinese and Indians but weird how I didn't feel left out.

Occupants painted, some with their foot

Played piano

Assembled beads into bracelet or necklaces

Everyone did something, it's hard to find someone in a sombre mood at the common hall (well, maybe the ones that's feeling down was in the dormitory)

And everything went on at a slower pace than normal

Has I been older, maybe I would contemplate even more things but I wonder if I would agree to follow me dad if I has been older. hehehe.

It wasn't sugary sweet all the time.

There were times when dad's friend is in bad shape, but he amazingly turned gay when abah come.

And there were times when I became really annoyed because I didn't know how long I need to wait somemore (the games lasted for eternity)

But thanks Allah, as I could remember, the most I managed is making faces.

Mak told me about the passing of this friend of my dad.

They were friends since abah was a kid himself.

When abah got married to mak, the mother of this friend greet me mom in the shop, asked her whether me mom has been keeping me dad busy that me dad has not been to play with his son.

My perplexed mother went home and as a kid, I never hear or see me mom complaining about me dad passing times witht his friend.

Instead, we siblings were asked to follow abah.

It's a rare oppourtunity to find such a friendship nowadays.

It's being interracial, normal-disable, and importantly, being nearly a lifelong ones

I fell so fortunate to witness it.

p/s : Image from google image