I am even more honoured to be receiving hundreds of congratulatory messages from family and friends via Facebook, Instagram and Whatsapp. And yet the ONLY person I would have truly loved to share this piece of news is my late father.
I hardly speak about him because we never really had a chance to do or share a lot of things. Growing up, I was home only until I was 12 years old. Right after, I was shipped to a boarding school in Seremban for my secondary school and for my A-Levels in Oxford before attending university in Nottingham. Daddy passed away just a few months after my university graduation. I had just started work in the UK then and was planning to visit him once I am entitled to take some leave.
I remember him cutting my nails every Friday, I remember him teaching us math crossed legged on the floor, using the parquet tiles as our calculator, I remember his favourite "ikan singgang" which he ate almost daily. I also remember him waiting for me in front of the gate with a belt in his hand! They are little things but even after all these years, still very vivid in my mind for some reason.
Most of all, I remember him as someone who loved sports. We ran together as a family, when he was the President of KAFA, he would bring us to watch football matches at the stadium. Of all the sports, he loved badminton the most. He played every evening after work and in fact spent his last breath doing what he loved when he had his heart attack while playing against our cousin.
We grew up loving sports because of him. Thank you daddy for this awesome gift.
Inna lillahi wa'inna ila hira ji'un
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