My dad's falling into some mild case of depression. = ( It's the ever hated feeling of helplessness...I admit I'm never really close to my dad, always raising an enquiring and suspicious eyebrow at his antics and attempts to understand his children's teenage world. But I must say, he is a great father, working tirelessly to maintain the family and provide us the luxury that we always take for granted for. We always argue over petty stuff (...he started it lar!), and pretty often he threatened that one day he won't be able to be there to support us anymore, which just as often makes me shut up and blink away a tear. Recently he has threatened to commit suicide whenver arguments turn sour, so bad was his case that my mother even began to allow his socialising again--ballroom dancing, even though she feared his eagerness to dance with his female partners, yet she doesn't show such fear publicly...after all, she is our mother, an example to us all, our pillar of strength, though as my instincts understood her concern, albeit not thoroughly... No gift on Mother's Day can hold such gratitude for what she has done for all of us.

I'm going to Malacca tomorrow. One of the very few--and last--times I can meet my grandfather. He's 78, approaching 79, just like Mr. Ikeda. He can lift a refridgerator, though. Yeye, not Mr. Ikeda.