This is a piece of something that i wrote for my brother's status on Facebook. Expressing my feelings towards my late father. He (my brother) said he thinks of him. Just wanted to share it here. And...
Yes, i miss babah too.
I miss his gudang garam fumes.
I miss him loitering around the living room.
I miss him nagging when we did mistakes.
I miss buying him stuffs.
I miss the times when we both discuss about the future over teh tarik.
I hate myself for scolding him when he spill nescafe/milk on the kitchen cabinet.
I hate myself when i remember the fights we had.
I hate myself when i remember how i always argue with him.
I'd cry each night as the vision of burying him plays on n on in my mind.
It'll burst me into tears when in see his stuffs around the house.
His work table.
That pewter letter opener.
Those ABBA files.
The mug lids.
I'd think of him each time when i pass by those racks in book stores where they display leather organizers.
Black, to be specific.
I'd think of him when i listen to the songs that we used to sing together.
Brings me to tears, again.