My brother gave me a slap today. But I wasn't sad. I only thought of how to return the slap to him. I didn't cry. He had me pinned to the ground. I didn't feel weak.
Until my dad came in and broke us up. When my brother challenged Papa to beat him, my dad just looked up at him and said "Is this the only way to correct an errant son?"
Tears rolled down my eyes.
I felt sad for my dad, I cried, still am and I felt helpless.
Earlier today we talked about his greying head and we joked about it. My father is growing old and he has a son who takes the family for granted, and a daughter who is still stuck in uni for another year and a half who still doesn't have a driving license who still hasn't got a job.
Dad felt disappointed with himself for not being able to take care of Kong Kong, he didn't tell us of Kong Kong's condition when it first got worse, he never asked if we wanted to go visit him and I know that day when I went with him to the hospital, Papa was swallowing his tears behind the mask.
Yet he has a son who said he would rather not go to the hospital at all.
At the funeral, my brother did a good job of being around and helping out. But when his friends came, he scooted off with them without whispering a word.
One of the nights he went back early to study for his test. He got money from my mother to take a cab home. At 8 pm.
He joins the family when there's a special dinner, then dumps his bag on my mother who doesn't want to carry it to go join his friends for the rest of the night. He makes the whole family go out of the way so that he can look at something only he is interested in. It is as though the family is only useful to him insofar there is food and shelter.
If we were a poor family, would he even want to acknowledge his surname is Leow?
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