There was one particular night when I noticed my father was not running like his usual self. He woke up after my grandfather as usual, went out from his room, but today he sat on the sofa, and he let out a sigh. A sign of tiredness maybe? Maybe the monotonous lifestyle has taken its toll on the middle-age man already? He sat there for a long while, arms resting on his knees. What was going on in his mind?
I saw that same look again on the night my grandfather died and was carried away on an ambulance. My father just sat there on the sofa, he must have sighed long and hard. Did he cried? He’s not known to be a man who wears his heart on his sleeves, I have never seen him cry. But on that night, he had that forlorn look, like he had lost something.