I am an aspiring screenwriter, kind of. Although we see a lot on the silver screen seems to be throwaway lines of speech, believe me, there is a lot of thought given to each line of dialogue. “Tell me something I can hold on to forever and never let go.” quote. And there’re many life lessons to be learned if you care to pay attention. Here’s a lesson about letting go.
My first-born—a bundle of joy, that she was. There, a bawling healthy pink lump of humanity I carried home for the first time.
Then, as is the course of all beings, she grew. And grew: pampers, Enfalac, toddling, school, swimming pools, hockey, university, then work. And in between, learning to use knives. And cooking. And more. Then, driving a car.
I am a kind of permissive parent. I believe in letting kids do stuff to learn. Experiences and lessons stick more when they are allowed to actually do it. I let them be—to learn. As I told one parent, you cannot build stuff by subtraction—they don’t learn if you constantly tell them, don’t do this, don’t do that. That’s taking away stuff, not adding. But I tried to be always there: a watchful eye; a standby pick-me-up, just in case; a parachute. There were times when I was not there—who wasn’t when you were a full-time working parent?
Handling knives as a 6-year old? No worries, as long as you don’t stab yourself in the heart. Frying French fries as an 8-year old? That’s ok; you will learn soon enough that hot oil do pop out of the pan. Cook your first Maggie mee? Sure. You will cook a lot for yourself in the years to come.
And then, it’s time to learn to drive a car. First, driving instructors, “P” licence, driving around in circles at the Likas Stadium parking lot, chaperoned driving.
Finally, it’s time to go solo: first day to drive to work, alone, 14 miles away from home to Pacific Sutera, fighting the early morning rush hour jams.
I told my daughter, “Marion, I will tailgate you in my car till you reach Pacific Sutera.”
“Thank you, Daddy!”
When some of my siblings heard about it later, they laughed at me, saying, “You should trust her lah!”
They misunderstood me. It wasn’t about trust, or lack thereof. It wasn’t about not letting go. Part of being a daddy or a mommy is learning how and when to let go.
I once told my daughter, “Always remember, wherever you are, you can always go home. Wherever I am in this world, that’s your home. I don’t care whether you are successful or not. Happy or sad, old or young, rich or poor, married or single, don’t feel you can’t go home anymore.”
Back to the tailgating story: First time driving alone in the real roads is a one-time occurrence. We drivers have all experienced it. It’s exciting, trepidatious, and I believe, at least in the minds of new drivers, frankly dangerous. I am gonna drive into a drain. But soon enough she will be like me—a jaded and shop-worn driver, able to drive just with mental autopilot, and frankly seeing driving as a chore, not a potentially dangerous but exciting adventure.
I wanted her to know that not only daddy is together on this adventure but I had her back—that the parachute is right behind her, tailgating. Daddy had this only chance to demonstrate to her (at least in this context), and Daddy took it.
All was well with the 2-car convoy until… well what do you know, of all the days, the traffic lights near the Likas Basel Church died! The morning rush hour traffic was in a chaotic free-for-all, and she was caught in the middle of it. It took all of my willpower to not alight and “save” her. Gotta let go and let the little ones negotiate the bumps and jams on the road; there will be bigger ones in life later. The profound heartaches will come later. I wish that I can be there, hovering, tailgating.
These days she is driving her own car in the hectic roads of Kuala Lumpur.
Suffice to say she reached Pacific Sutera safely. Sometimes, it is about letting go, about ❤️. I wish mommy could have seen us.
quoteThe Age of Adaline is a 2015 American romantic fantasy film directed by Lee Toland Krieger and starring Blake Lively.
Frog on a Wire 