For some reason or another, my dad and I have never spent much time together as a duo in public spaces. Even when we’re at home, we more or less keep to our own corners with him doing the chores/talking on the phone while I would be on the bed with my Mac.
So the jubilee weekend was an extremely rare occurrence when we went out shopping together. It all started with my desire to get a pair of black & white shoes for my internship. Because backstage safety calls for covered shoes with thicker soles and yes, nails have gone through people’s flats before. I don’t even know why my dad agreed to come but he did and so off we went to Queensway.
We spent a couple of hours wandering that also had him frowning at several pairs of shoes. Without spotting any pair that I wanted, we decided to go Vivo City where he could visit Bata for his uncle sandals and I would continue my quest for my Nike roshes (only to find out that they aren’t carried locally the next day) . For some reason, my internal GPS marked the route that we usually took by car instead of bus and thus cleverly suggested we go opposite to take the bus.
So off we went huffing and puffing up the bridge.
The next brilliantly wrong suggestion came from my dad to take 197 that ultimately led us in the direction of Jurong. Belatedly realised how off we were when we got onto the highway and I saw the Science Park. Hurriedly herded my dad off the bus which led to more grumbling that we should have just continued to NUS where it would be easier to change buses. Yet again we boarded 197.
We finally got to Spottiswoode where I told my dad to get off and just walk. I thought he would want to walk instead of changing buses to get home but I was wayyyyyy off the mark.
All ended well because we got home in fits of laughter.
At night, I just thought about how much I would treasure this day, remember our laughter, the warmth and tenderness in my dad’s hands, not to forget the the heat of the day.
But occasionally, I fear when I hear the ticking of time passing.