My colleague and I talked about my father’s bumpy white scrappy car this morning. He was wandering why my father drove such a small run-down vehicle when he could have purchased a better one when the cost of the COE was downright low last month. The small white car would have been about 20 over years old and the maintenance was quite a chore with regular visits to the workshop.
I told him whilst the affordability was not an issue to my dad, there is a good reason why he used the old white car. My colleague speculated that it was because of the low petrol consumption or the reduced taxes.
He was wrong. The car was my father’s birthday present from my mother 25 years old. My mother saved up over the past years in order that she could get a car for my father so that he would not need to ride that old motorbike and would be sheltered from the sun and rain. My mother worked very hard to save up so that this car would be a possibility. That is why till today, the white car still held so much significance and value to my father, even when its condition left much to be desired.
Certain things in life have that special touch because they are sprinkled with love. This, made them invaluable to the heart, just like the small white car.
Finally the day came and the little white car had to go to the garage. 26 years is too long a time to keep the vehicle going. Today my father drove the little white car for the last time to the garage. Alongside, he went with me and my mother.
After some paperwork settlement, the mechanic came and drove the little white car into the metal dump. Slowly.
As the car headed away from my parents, I saw my father and mother looking at the distancing car, hands held, and firmly. And I could vividly hear my father whisper ‘Thank you’ to my mother.
The car may have become another fragment of memories, but I am very sure some things, will never be forgotten.