Monday, November 22, 2010
The Sonata
At this point in my life, graduated, working, supporting a bit of my family, I have to explain a little about my father and how I feel about him...
I hate my father for making my mother's life a torture.
Why now? It all started with my family's unfortunate fetish for cars.
My family had lived a life of grandeur in the 1980s. Then, we lived in the suburbs of Bukit Timah. To my memory, there was only a flight of stairs in my house. That was all I could remember. It all changed in 1987.
Due to my father's incompetence at running his business, my parents were wiped out. Broke with 4 children in tow and a huge amount of debt. If any, it was cause for mental breakdown. It was only due to the dilligence of my mother that my family remained intact. We were only able to move into our current 5 room flat because they had five children to feed. My father on the other hand, became unreasonable.
Rather than accept his current state of poverty, he clung onto his vision of grandeur and the material objects that symbolized it. Mercedes, rolexes, gold chains and rings. He re-started his clothing business with the same doomed model, squandering away hundreds of dollars each weekend on the lottery, all in the hopes of striking rich, which he never did. And because his business doesn't make any money, he turns to my mother for financial aid. All the time.
I love my mother for the effort she put into the family. But it pains me to see her money being sapped away by a leech, namely him.
My mother was the one who brought my 4 sisters and I up. She was the one who cared for us when we were ill and smacked us when we mis-behaved. She cried for me when I left for Shanghai and was overjoyed when I became the top student in my secondary school. She was always guilty that I, as her only son, never had my own study table, my own bed or even my own clothing cupboard (by the time I had need for these, my sisters had taken up the limited space we had). I, on the otherhand always looked on the bright side and never blamed her much. With one job, she singlehandedly saved enough money to see 3 daughters and 1 son through university. In short, she earned my respect and I will always support her through her old age. I will always be the fillial son to her.
My father is another story. Sometimes, I wonder what they see in each other. I never know what a good father does. In essence, I never had a role model to follow. He is obstinate to the point of stupidity. After years of eating unhealthily, his body gave. He has weak knees, a chronic cough and developed a bulging belly. Yet he is under the illusion he is as fit as a bull and refuses a health checkup. To top things off, he refused to spend money to insure his health and life. Instead, my mother had to pay for him.
I often asked my mother, why did she put herself through this suffering? My father was clearly not pulling his weight in the household, never paying for anything. Yet, her reply was always a resigned: "Boy, he is your father. Don't say things like that."
The final straw came a few weeks earlier. My sister experienced trouble financing her car loans and decided to sell it off in favour of a 2nd hand car. My father immediately told her to take over my mother's Vios. On the sly, he started to ask around for a 2nd hand car to buy for himself without my knowledge. This short story ended with my father taking S$20K from my mother to buy a 6 year old, 2 litre Hyundai Sonata with a 140,000 km milage.
This story was short because my father, dim-witted as he is, became over-excited at owning 'a big car' again and squeezed out the money from my mother. He failed to inspect the car before buying it, being hooked to his vision of grandeur. Needless to say, I failed miserably in trying to prevent this from happening. The condition of the car was atrocious.
The irony of this all was that 2 years ago, we owned the same Sonata model, registered in the same year and month. Due to the terrible consumption and lack of use of it, I took 2 months patiently reasoning with my mother to sell it off, at 50,000km in favour of a new OPC Toyota Vios (which is always more reliable and frugal than a Hyundai).
Now, the pendulum has swung back and smacked me in the face. This Sonata is in an atrocious state. The engine is not running smoothly, the headlights are cracked, the taillights are blown and it is covered in knocks. I should not have wasted my efforts 2 years ago. The previous Sonata was in a much better state.
Yes, my father got his wish of driving his BIG car. My mother is out 20K. But what my father doesn't know is this; with his foolish decision to cheat money out of my mother and maintain his illusion, he only made his only son despise him.
Do not expect my support.
I truly am sorry.
I hate my father for making my mother's life a torture.
Why now? It all started with my family's unfortunate fetish for cars.
My family had lived a life of grandeur in the 1980s. Then, we lived in the suburbs of Bukit Timah. To my memory, there was only a flight of stairs in my house. That was all I could remember. It all changed in 1987.
Due to my father's incompetence at running his business, my parents were wiped out. Broke with 4 children in tow and a huge amount of debt. If any, it was cause for mental breakdown. It was only due to the dilligence of my mother that my family remained intact. We were only able to move into our current 5 room flat because they had five children to feed. My father on the other hand, became unreasonable.
Rather than accept his current state of poverty, he clung onto his vision of grandeur and the material objects that symbolized it. Mercedes, rolexes, gold chains and rings. He re-started his clothing business with the same doomed model, squandering away hundreds of dollars each weekend on the lottery, all in the hopes of striking rich, which he never did. And because his business doesn't make any money, he turns to my mother for financial aid. All the time.
I love my mother for the effort she put into the family. But it pains me to see her money being sapped away by a leech, namely him.
My mother was the one who brought my 4 sisters and I up. She was the one who cared for us when we were ill and smacked us when we mis-behaved. She cried for me when I left for Shanghai and was overjoyed when I became the top student in my secondary school. She was always guilty that I, as her only son, never had my own study table, my own bed or even my own clothing cupboard (by the time I had need for these, my sisters had taken up the limited space we had). I, on the otherhand always looked on the bright side and never blamed her much. With one job, she singlehandedly saved enough money to see 3 daughters and 1 son through university. In short, she earned my respect and I will always support her through her old age. I will always be the fillial son to her.
My father is another story. Sometimes, I wonder what they see in each other. I never know what a good father does. In essence, I never had a role model to follow. He is obstinate to the point of stupidity. After years of eating unhealthily, his body gave. He has weak knees, a chronic cough and developed a bulging belly. Yet he is under the illusion he is as fit as a bull and refuses a health checkup. To top things off, he refused to spend money to insure his health and life. Instead, my mother had to pay for him.
I often asked my mother, why did she put herself through this suffering? My father was clearly not pulling his weight in the household, never paying for anything. Yet, her reply was always a resigned: "Boy, he is your father. Don't say things like that."
The final straw came a few weeks earlier. My sister experienced trouble financing her car loans and decided to sell it off in favour of a 2nd hand car. My father immediately told her to take over my mother's Vios. On the sly, he started to ask around for a 2nd hand car to buy for himself without my knowledge. This short story ended with my father taking S$20K from my mother to buy a 6 year old, 2 litre Hyundai Sonata with a 140,000 km milage.
This story was short because my father, dim-witted as he is, became over-excited at owning 'a big car' again and squeezed out the money from my mother. He failed to inspect the car before buying it, being hooked to his vision of grandeur. Needless to say, I failed miserably in trying to prevent this from happening. The condition of the car was atrocious.
The irony of this all was that 2 years ago, we owned the same Sonata model, registered in the same year and month. Due to the terrible consumption and lack of use of it, I took 2 months patiently reasoning with my mother to sell it off, at 50,000km in favour of a new OPC Toyota Vios (which is always more reliable and frugal than a Hyundai).
Now, the pendulum has swung back and smacked me in the face. This Sonata is in an atrocious state. The engine is not running smoothly, the headlights are cracked, the taillights are blown and it is covered in knocks. I should not have wasted my efforts 2 years ago. The previous Sonata was in a much better state.
Yes, my father got his wish of driving his BIG car. My mother is out 20K. But what my father doesn't know is this; with his foolish decision to cheat money out of my mother and maintain his illusion, he only made his only son despise him.
Do not expect my support.
I truly am sorry.
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