I had just touched down after a gruelling eight hour flight. I am cranky and tired, robbed of sleep. I wanted to go home, take a cold shower and reacquaint myself with the humid Malaysian weather.
I have been away for two weeks and throughout, I got so caught up in the sights and sounds of Sydney that I didn't get to talk to Daddy much.
He picked me up from the airport. It wasn't a tearful reunion, more of an awkward hug and hello. He didn't tell me how much he missed me while I am away, or how glad he was to have me home.
Instead, he brings me to my favorite mamak, knowing that I am craving for my roti canai after two weeks of white people food.
"Ah Girl, you can have two roti canai. Papa's treat. Just don't tell Mummy."
I am amazed how such a simple sentence can convey the silent but fierce love that my Dad has for me. How it reminds me that sometimes, love does not always have to be an elaborate act of grandeur, of big gestures or expensive gifts.
Sometimes love is as simple as a treat at one's favorite mamak and shared secrets.
Ah Daddy, I've missed you.
It's good to be home.
#midnightsupperseries
Indeed, there is no place like home. It's the smallest thing that makes the big difference..
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