Some of my earliest memories involve sitting with my dad in his study every night when he came home. I'd watch as he put his personal items away: his watch, wallet and comb would always take up the same spot (位置) on the table.
Dad's comb was green. Every night, he would smile, hand me the comb and say: "Be a good girl and help Daddy clean it, OK?" I was more than happy to do it. Every time I proudly returned the comb to Dad, he would smile at me, and place it on top of his wallet.
About two years later, Dad started his own business.
That was when things started to change. Dad's business wasn't doing so well. He didn't come home as much as he used to — just a couple of times a week. And when he did come home, it was always late and I'd already be in bed. I started to get mad. Why didn't he listen to Mum and just stick to his old job? Over the years, I stopped waiting for him to come home.
Today, I'm no longer a kid. Dad's business has also started to get back on track (轨道). Two days ago, Dad came home early. As usual, I helped him carry his bags into his study. When I turned to leave, he said: "Hey, would you like to help me clean my comb? It's been a while since I last cleaned it." I looked at him a while, then took the comb and headed to the sink (水槽).
It's a new comb. I punch a few drops of soap and brush the comb. It hits me then: why, as a child, helping my dad clean his comb was such a joy. That tradition meant that my dad was home early to spend the evening with Mum and I. It meant he would play games with me. It meant a happy and loving family.
I pass the clean comb back to Dad. He looks at it and smiles. But this time, I notice something different. My dad has aged, yet his smile is still as heartwarming as before. The smile of a father who just wants a good life for his family.
Dad carefully places his comb on top of his wallet. After so many years, he still organises his personal items in the same way. I guess some things never change.
