My dad, the hammock and me…


I may or may have not mentioned before about my relationship with my dad. I think I may have on my other blog but not on this one. Anyway, on my way back from Asia, I watched a film called ‘Bridge to Terrabithia’. The film was about a boy and his relationship with his dad and his best friend. I have never cried so much on any trip that I can remember. I was a bit sensitive, coming back from my Asia trip as I took the last leg of the trip to be Manila, Philippines. This was where I was born. I had just relived memories of my childhood while waking through the streets where I grew up, and fond memories of childhood came rushing through. I was not as close to my dad as I wanted to be but nonetheless, we had a special bond.

One of the fondest memory I have of my dad was laying on his chest while he was relaxing on a camping hammock. I remember I was about 7 years old or so. I was always ‘ordered’ to take naps in the afternoon when I was young and I totally refused to do so. My dad’s way of getting me to take a nap was to do exactly that, take me in his arms and lay down on our camping hammock just under the shaded tree in our backyard. Even the feeling of the gentle swaying of the hammock while I rested on my dad’s chest seem to have come back. I could even hear the birds chirping and the sound of our neighbor sweeping their yard on a lazy summer afternoon.

The camping hammock was not there anymore, and the tree is nothing but a stump – but the memory of it was the best I could remember. My dad has passed on and it has been about 21 years or so now. That image was something. It never happened often, so maybe that is why it is so special.

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