Exhaustion has made me prone
to being so emotional lately.
Waking up all of a sudden in the
middle of the night makes me
overwhelmed with gratitude
at still being able to wake up.
Thinking about my parents while
driving alone makes me teary.
When Kris yells about ASEC I feel
a protective need to defend them.
Thinking about how hard a period
March was makes me feel weak.
Coming home to an empty house every
night does terrible things to my insides.
Seeing homeless or disturbed men walking
aimlessly in the streets breaks my heart.
Where are their children? Why do they
have nowhere to go home to?
Sometimes it feels like I’m about to burst.
xx
We drove back to Kuantan over the weekend
to visit arwah Tok. Before leaving, Dad dropped
us by the Christian cemetery to pay arwah Atok
Bernard Preedy a visit as well.
My father owes his life to this kindly man.
A sea scout master to the first troop to ever
establish in Pahang, arwah took in a handful
of promising young boys of various ages to
live with him in a longhouse opposite what
is now the Grand Hyatt on Teluk Cempedak.
What possessed arwah to grant these young
men a new lease on life, I’ll never know. But
without him, none of them would have made
it to naval school in Wales and go further to
carry on careers in the maritime industry.
Or help build and shape it in Malaysia.
“Do you miss Atok Preedy?” I asked Dad.
He said nothing, but kept stroking the tomb.
As we left the cemetery Dad quietly said,
“Arwah Preedy was like a father to me.”
That is all I need to hear to understand.
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