5 PM

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.

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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...

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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.