Dear Dad,
at the risk of sounding flippant, please take care of my friends' dads wherever all of you are now, since you've been there longer.

And if there was something I could change back when you were still alive, it'd be that time when bro and I both fought to have that same issue of Doraemon's comic. We wouldn't share so you had to buy the same comic for each of us. It was stupid wasn't it? Sorry. Remember how I was partial to the Hardy Boys (but not Nancy Drew) while bro preferred Famous Five, or was that Secret Seven? Actually, I've not read much of anything in ages though I have a huge backlog.

I wish I had learnt photography from you too. You were so skilled at it and willing to teach, yet bro and I didn't bother to ask. Dad, I'm still a point and shoot idiot but I think I can appreciate framing and lighting techniques now. That's a plus isn't it?

I'm not trying to make you anxious, but I've not really learnt to take care of myself or mum since you've gone. I'm still not as patient with mum as you were. I've yet to learn how to iron or cook. Remember how you used to knot my tie for school assembly all those years, so I could just slip it on and wear it? Well, I've not mastered that either. You were still the last person who has ever tried to teach me to swim. My writing has become lacklustre. I'm just hurrying through life trying to get things done, and why does it seem like there are so many things to be done?

In Pink Floyd's words, I've become comfortably numb. Like I've stood still way too long, and now there are pins and needles in my legs and I just can't move. All I'm doing is hang on till the sensation has faded away, and try to shift my feet again. But please have faith that I will walk somehow. This much you have taught me.

Hope everything's wonderful where you are and I know it is.
You're still missed and loved.