Goodbye, Daddy!

I dare say my dad truly lived the "YOLO" lifestyle. He had a deep passion for the strongest kinds of alcohol and embraced it fully throughout his life – despite his very horrible gout and eventual multiple body failures (yes, it wasn’t pretty). I have to admit, it took a huge amount of courage (that I definitely don’t have) to live the way he did — not really caring about what others thought, about his health or family, or even about consequences. He always used to say, "Drinking or not, I’m going to die one way or another, so why not enjoy it?" While it kind of made sense at the time, it was pretty clear how premature his life ended, with so many things left undone. But that was his take on life — responsibility wasn’t his strongest suit.

He simply did what he wanted, always. He was unapologetically himself, and, in a strange way, that’s what made him so cool. He taught me to drive when I was just 13. On weekends, we’d go to an empty plot near our home where I’d drive in circles like a wannabe race car driver. One day, out of nowhere, he had me driving the family’s old Mercedes to Melaka. No license, no fear, just vibes. He’d be there beside me, teaching shortcuts, how to read the “body language” of cars, take sharp turns, and, of course, how to park illegally. So yes, blame my dad if I’m not exactly a model citizen when it comes to rules.
And the temper? Well, that ran in the family, especially with him and my grandma. My dad had a master’s degree in colorful vocabulary, especially when it came to my brother. To be fair, sometimes it was probably deserved, but funnily enough, he never unleashed that side on me. I got away with things, and he always listened when I spoke.
Some of my best memories of him are the rainy days. Whenever it rained, he’d wake me up early, and off we’d go on a daddy-daughter noodle run. Laksa or wonton noodles were the go-to, and he’d chat away in Hokkien while I just nodded, not understanding a word. And rainy days? They are always magical to me until today because of those moments.
He passed away two days ago, after 71 years of doing things entirely his way. He always thought of me as a “motor insurance agent” — because honestly, that was the easiest way to explain my occupation. And while he didn’t fully grasp what I do professionally, his influence was always with me. His resilience, fearlessness, and ability to embrace the unconventional inspire me every day.
So, while he might not have been directly involved in my professional world, this is my way of getting him involved today — even if it’s in the virtual space. Here's to you, Daddy, and good bye.