5:00 p.m.’s are everyday to anyone as it is to me, but not today…
what and why port moresby’s cold june wind brought breeze of nostalgia, i do not know…
my late father seldom made it home at 5:00 p.m.
his showing-up on time is always a special occasion
for me it’s an answered prayer. it is.
papa IS the best cook in the world. although help was always around to prepare dinner, consistently, he does all the cooking every time he’s home by 5:00… making such days so special.
i never grew out of these 5:00 o’clock’s:
us siblings shove ourselves on the passenger seats, thrilled for that special trip to the market.
trips that make my day perfect no matter how fucked-up the rest of it was.
i would trade a day of waking life for another 5:00 o’clock with papa…one is to one...
papa always reminded us of two things every time we take these trips:
(1) a good cook buys the ingredients himself &
(2) only lazy people can’t cook.
this is not my fathers’ day blog.