A distinct lack of humour

Yep, the funeral was tough. I had a total of 8 plane rides over the past 2 weeks going to and from Sibu, got to see all my relatives (including those whom I didn't want to see) and had to make nice with everyone even when I didn't feel very nice myself.

It was hard to reconcile the body on a metal slab with the person I remember, or rather the several people I remember him to be.

Growing up, I thought my dad hung the moon. We saw him two months out of a year, and it was wonderful.

He walked into the room just after my mom told me about his constant infidelity and I saw his face change into the stranger we have now come to know so well.

In my early teens we fought constantly on the telephone since I was the one chasing him for maintenance payments. Then after a horribly bitter fight, we didn't speak for about 10 years during which I signed all his greeting cards under duress.

When I saw him again, I was almost through law school and he was through making another family. He told me not to say anything mean to his other children. I didn't.

When I saw him again, he had cancer and I was at the airport picking him up under duress. He started to cry when he saw me, and I had to have a cigarette immediately.

We shared the cigarette in the cab. He got his blood transfusion and went home. But not before ratting me out to my mother about the smoking.

The last time he came back here, he stayed for 6 months for chemotherapy, and saw his grandson born. He managed to avoid holding my son until weeks before he left. I surprised myself by being almost indifferent.

After all, I realised before he did that he would not get to hold another grandchild in his lifetime. I also realised that in his haste to discard us and start a new family, he had missed seeing us three grow up. Now he would not live to see the other two grow up.

Now that I have a son, I know that is punishment enough. The sum of my grievances against him couldn't add up to this.