Friday, February 04, 2011

The Right Way

An old man who made it to Shell, Exxon, and Aramco (if you have no idea what I'm saying this link might help) in his younger years got hit by another tricycle last night. He was fine. No injuries or even scratch. But trouble was, the tricycle who hit him was in the right of way. The 61-year old man wasn't. Even though the tricycle driver who hit him was drunk, the poor old man still has to pay for some minor damages in the tricycle and has to be responsible for a passenger who got hurt from the accident. The 61-year old poor man is my dad.

(Forgive me, as my tears dropped as I typed the last line on my first paragraph.)

Yesterday, when my dad was in the middle of cooking our dinner we run out of gas. That was totally unexpected. Although we have two spare extra tanks in the house, these two are empty as well. Buying one isn't our option because we both don't have any money! The quicker I can suggest a plan B, the less he'll be frustrated as the food was getting spoiled. I suggested we use the electric stove. And so we survived.

Before going to bed, I went out for a late night bike. It's either a late night bike or an early morning bike. I went up and down the town. When I got back, my dad decided to put a tail light, "just so it's safer for you to bike at night," he said. He wanted to see how the bike would look like at night with the lights on so he asked my to bike but not go far as it's not safe because it's late. I couldn't see the light on my bike's tail so I asked him to ride my bike to see the new tail light. Trust me, it's a silly looking light on the tail of my bike.

So I went inside to prepare to go to bed. I heard our tricycle's engine started but I didn't hear it to go any further. I went out again just to try if my puppy would cry if any of his masters get out of the house, I was glad he didn't. When I was outside, I saw my dad sitting around the corner with two other neighbors, the tricycle was parked there. It was probably 11pm. I went back in to to finally go to bed.

I didn't have any idea why I was having a hard time putting myself to sleep. When I was falling asleep, I heard our tricycle again. I thought my dad was calling it a night but I heard the sound of engine getting further from our house not getting any nearer.

I woke up from my dog's cry. He needed to poo. I walked him out to the highway where there are grasses at the sidewalk and he did his thing. When I was about to go back to bed, my dad asked me what are my plans tomorrow. That was weird. First, he never asks anything in the middle of night. Second, he never asks what your plans are for the next day in the middle of the night. Lastly, he asked the completely out of this world question.

I got up early, around 5am. My dog was crying once more. I didn't go back to bed anymore, because I usually do. I was downstairs carefully watching my new dog's behavior. My dad came and he started to say something.

When a guy speaks, and when he speaks his mind and heart with sincerity which happens once in a blue moon, YOU BETTER LISTEN and you listen hard! Whoever this guy is: your brother, father, son, boyfriend, most importantly your husband, ladies. Guys talk but they rarely speak first. When they do, it's serious. Just stop, shut up, and listen. You are not allowed to talk, to nag, to doubt, to make fun about the thing the guy is saying. You cannot totally break them apart from doing anything but listen.

Apparently, my dad got himself into an accident last night. The tricycle who hit him has five passengers. One got a minor injury. The driving manning the tricycle was drunk. They also hit the concrete pole. Their speed was fast enough to turn the tricycle up-side down upon impact.

There are three or four scratches that I've seen on our tricycle.
This is the most major damaged I've noticed.
Hello little wreckage!
This Kawasaki 125 got a hound's ear in an instant.

The police demanded the passenger who got injured should get examined on our part's expense. My dad's license was confiscated, and so he has to pay for the fine. Again I say this, we don't have any penny!

What if, I didn't go biking last night?
What if, I didn't suggest him to use the electric stove?
What if, I went up to my dad when we was sitting with our neighbors?
These what ifs in my mind or in my dad's mind are endless.

Let's change course, shall we?

What if, I got hit by a ten-wheeler truck when I went out for a bike last night and died?
What if, our house got burned and we lost everything?
What if, an armed group of Communist Party randomly kidnapped three men in the neighbor, including my dad, to forcedly recruit them.

There's so much to be grateful for.
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