I can never remember mother’s face. She was never there to hold me in her arms when I cried in the middle of the night. She was never there to change my pampers when I peed or poo-ed. She was never there to feed me when I’m hungry. All the while I only see my father’s smiling face. When I was 5, I tortured my father with questions regarding mother. Father cried every night in his locked bedroom waiting for her.

I remember when I fought with father because I don’t want to eat fried mee anymore. Every night I had fried mee and I grew tired of eating it. I blame father for making mother leave us. I blame him for our poor living condition. Our apartment was a small one with a bedroom and a living room attached to a kitchen. We seldom had enough food for a day.

Sometimes I am ashamed of my broken family when my friends teased me. I cried every time they make jokes of me. Everyday I woke up fearing of going to school. I hate school. Nobody wants to make me as their friends. I was shunned away from the cafeteria, from group work, from everything. I told father about it and every time I got the same reply from him.

"Life is unfair. You need the strength and the patient to move on. You don’t need to care about what people say about you because they don’t know how hard we work to survive in this phase of life. And you have to study hard to achieve in the future. God is Almighty. He will show us the right way."

I listened to him. I study hard in school. When I reached the acceptable age to work, I work in McDonalds. At my workplace, I made friends who are in the same financial situation like me. At my workplace also, I found the sunshine in my life, Shirley.

She was beautiful in every way. She had long black hair and soft fair skin. She had big brown eyes which she inherited from her Japanese mother. It twinkles every time she laughs. Her dimples would deepen each time she smiles. I love it when she hugged me when I’m down. She has this attraction with guys. They watched her but she never once turn to them, maybe a quick "hi" if she knows them. When I asked her why is she always hanging out with me, she replied, "Because I like you. You are true to yourself unlike others."

We eventually got married at a young age of 21 as her parents wanted her to be married off earlier. Marriage doesn’t make me stop studying. I studied through thick and thin and I finally got myself a PhD. Father was proud of me. Once I got myself a job as a doctor, father stop working anymore. He stays with us. On his last birthday I bought him a last gift.

"Mark, there’s some people with a wrapping big thing here. What’s all this about?" father asked me through the phone.

I was working that day so I couldn’t be there that afternoon for the arrival of the big gift for him. I smiled through the phone and answered, "Father I’m kind of rushing right now. I’ll see you at home tonight."

When I reach my doorstep that night I heard a song being played behind the closed doors. I didn’t want to interrupt the beautiful played song. I stood outside until the song hit the last note. Tears rolled from my eyes as I remember how father told me a love story of his with mother.

Father was a pianist in his early days at a small but high-class lounge. While Mother was having lunch with her colleagues at the particular hotel one day, she was attracted to father as he plays the piano magnificently. She expressed herself to father and father appreciated it. After that one day, mother always come in the evening after her work to listen to father. Soon father plucked up the courage and approached her. As always she sat on the small lush sofa with a drink in her hand. She smiled up to father when he sat next to her.

"I see that you always came here."

"Yes. Work is stressing. When I hear you play a song, any song, I relax. You work wonders with it. How did you get to play that well?"

"I don’t know. I used to play with a friend when I was a kid. He thought me how to place my fingers properly. He taught me the chords and the notes. From those few lessons from him, I can play. He said I had the gift to play pianos." Father laughed when he mention it.

Since then they always spend time together. After they got married, father quit being a pianist saying he needs real job since he’s going to be a father soon and the pay being a pianist is quite small. Mother too had to quit her job as an administrative officer as she got pregnant with me and she keeps getting morning sickness. Father told me that he couldn’t get any decent job so he had to work odd jobs. However mother left as soon as she gave birth to me saying she wants to lead a better life. Father was depressed.

I stepped in my house and hug father from behind. "Happy 60^th birthday father," I whispered.

Father was stunned but in a moment, he loosens up. "Shirley told me you bought this for me?"

I looked at the shiny upright piano and smiled. I nodded. "Yes I did. I know how much you missed playing it. So I decided to buy one for you. You played so well father."

Father laughed and I saw a glimpse of happiness in his eyes. "Not bad for an old timer."

Since then father spends lots of time playing the piano. He cleans it every time it started to grow dust. He taught me a thing or two in playing it but I give up halfway. I just couldn’t get used to it. Father taught my two daughters too and they loved to play alongside their grandfather. Even Shirley started to take up a new hobby from it. She said she was mesmerized by father, and seeing how fine he played, she too wanted to be as good as him. Every Sunday they would take turns to play me a song.

Until the day father went into a deep sleep and never wakes up. The house was so lifeless without the music from his fingers. My daughters stop playing as they grow. Shirley also stops when she started to set up a shared boutique with her younger sister. But she never fails to clean the piano even though no one plays it anymore. Twice a year a technician came for a minor touch-up at tuning it.

I sat down on the piano bench and stroke the ebony piano. I closed my eyes and could feel the presence of father. I smiled. Then I heard a sweet melody surrounding me. I laughed. Twinkle twinkle little star. My first attempted song in playing a piano. Out of the blue, my eyes went watery. My father’s laughter rang in my ears. How much I miss him.

"Honey?"

I quickly wiped my tears and looked away from her. I felt her arms around me and her head on my shoulder. I know that she was looking at me, waiting for a respond from me. But I just stared ahead and keep quiet.

"You know that it’s ok to cry once in a while. I know you are missing him, aren’t you?"

I smiled and turned towards her. "Can you play me a song?"

She nodded. With that she pressed her little fingers on the keys and played away. She played just like father, but father’s was better. And then I couldn’t help but cried on her shoulders.

Copyright 2007 putriain
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