I was gently woken up by a father who fed me a glass of milk in my sleep everyday because i wouldn't drink it if i was awake...
I was put back to sleep but sometimes i would just snuggle up to him after my lactose dose and he would patiently hold me till i woke up again... i could never find a better huggsie...
I found myself being lifted to the bathroom where a brush would be put into my mouth and as i swaggered like a drunkard, he would kneel behind me so that i could lean on him and brush...
Waiting impatiently as he brought my school uniform, i would lift my hands so that he could dress me up. He would then tie my belt, slip my tiny feet through socks and put my shoes on.. all the while my feet would be dangling furiously to some unknown tune, trying to get away from his hands...
My tiffen-box would be ready by the time i got to the table and my books packed into my bag according to the day's timetable. All i had to was slip my bag on and take the lunch basket. It would be carefully laid with a miniature lunch carrier, a towel, a floor mat, a water bottle and a spoon. On the days he missed the spoon or the mat i would get irritated.. couldn't he get something so simple right?
He would get on his bike and lift me up on the front. I loved riding in the front of the bike. it made me feel like i was driving and i would place my hands over his on the handle bar and make sounds as we made our way to school...
Once there, he would put me down and carry my bag and lunch basket till the entrance and then help me put them on.. As i walked in, i would turn everyday and find him standing there till i disappeared into the room. On days he had to leave urgently, i would know and not look back, afraid that he wouldn't be there...
After class, i would walk out to find him there already, standing away from everyone else, looking for his child.. I would sometimes just stand away and make him wait a long time to see if he'd leave... sometimes i'd stand behind him but never tell him i was there just to see what he'd do in a while... but he'd just wait... until i felt bad and joined him again...
After i reached home he would take my books out and see what i'd done... There would remarks about my bad handwriting, marks from a class test, some stars or some comments, exercises and homework.
As i ate lunch, he would decide what needed to be done for the day and draw up a working schedule...
I would spend afternoons learning to cycle.
He would come down and help me. Sometimes run behind me, carry me home when i hurt myself, getting me extra wheels for support, teaching me to ride without them, teaching me how to fly....
The evenings i spent finishing homework, studying for tests and writing on cursive handwriting notebooks (which i hate doing till date) .. he would sit next to me the whole time helping.. his hand over mine, guiding me through the lines of the alphabets.. i wouldn't realize it was 6 30 p.m until he would get up to leave.. and then would end my study hour.
When he left for work at 7, i was allowed to play again... and slowly.. the day would close..
Dinner would be given as i watched tv, but only on rare cases would he feed me... mostly he'd just walk around like an over-protective mother seeing if i ate the vegetables, if i had enough rice, if the food was ok, if i was full, if i needed anything else... (he still does that :) )
I didn't have a worry in the world... someone took care of it all :)
As 10 pm dawned, i was ushered into the bed room where i changed into night clothes that he already already taken out and laid on the bed for me.
I was scared of the dark. I wouldn't sleep alone...
He would lie down next to me on the tiny bed and watch me bury myself in his comfortably warm chest and drift away...
On some days i woke up n saw him asleep right next to me... uncomfortable in a bed too small for him.. nevertheless there because he didn't want to disturb me...
When i was just a 5-year-old...
