The look on my dad's face when he proudly announced to his friends and siblings that I'm top 50 in NUS (not accurate since it's only supposed to be top 50 in FASS) is something I can never forget.
But what I cannot forget even more, is that one particular night during my secondary school days. Perhaps some of you may have already heard of this story more than once but it doesn't matter; I've told it hundreds and thousands of time, but every single time it brings me close to tears. Procrastinator as I was (am), I left my work till the last minute, well, not literally the last minute, but it was a late late night minute. 4am in the morning, I succumbed to the pressure and the annoying silence; the silence that I heard as the midnight oil drips away towards the breaking of dawn and the impending doom. I hated it. I've had enough. I started banging my table, throwing my notes everywhere, kicking my cupboard, and brought myself to tears.
I just wanted to vent my frustration; I just wanted to break the silence I hate; I just... wanted someone to tell me I can make it through the night. He did.
"你慢慢做,不要忙葬,我坐在这里陪你"
It doesn't matter that he doesn't understand a single word on my assignment, it doesn't matter that there's nothing he could have done to help me academically. It matters that he didn't say a single word about me waking him up at 4am in the morning and all he cares about is that I have someone to walk through the journey with...
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I won't be where I am today without my parents, and I am where I am today not only because of them, but also for them - my honour and glory