Okay Papa

People spend their lives chasing titles. Engineer. Manager. Doctor. Director. Business owner. Each one represents years of hard work. And I'm grateful for the opportunities I've had. But there is one title that means more to me than all the others. "Daddy." It's a title that wasn't earned through an interview. It came with sleepless nights. School runs. Homework. Bedtime stories. Countless "Why?" questions. It reminds me every day that someone is watching. Not to see if I'm successful. But to see how I live. Some days I get it right. Some days I don't. But every morning, I get another chance. And maybe that's what Fatherhood is. Not about being perfect. But about showing up. Again. And again. And again. So this Father's Day, I don't celebrate being the best dad. I simply feel grateful that I was given the chance to become one. And honestly... It's the best title I've ever had. Okay papa.

I didn't know fatherhood would feel like this. When I first became a father at 28, I thought it was about responsibility. Providing for the family. Paying the bills. Making sure everyone was okay. And yes, it is all of those things. But nobody told me about the other parts. The way I would look at my children and see time moving. The way a simple hug could make a difficult day feel lighter. The way I would worry about things I never worried about before. Nobody told me that my heart would be walking around outside my body. Fatherhood is strange that way. Some days, it feels exhausting. Some days, it feels overwhelming. And some days, it feels like I'm making it up as I go. But then there are moments. A random dose of "I love you." A drawing brought home from school. A hand reaching for mine. A voice calling, "Daddy." And somehow, those small moments become the biggest ones. I don't know if I'm the perfect father. I don't know if I'm doing eve...

Being far (10,000km) from home feels strange sometimes. The scenery changes. The weather changes. The language around me changes. But somehow, my mind still drifts back home. I wonder what the kids are doing. Whether they woke up on time. What they ate. Whether the house feels quieter without us. Time zones (-6hrs) make things feel even stranger. While I’m ending the day here, they’re just beginning theirs. And suddenly, a simple message feels important. A photo. A message. A short video call. “Papa, what are you doing now?” It’s funny how something so small can make distance feel smaller. Travelling reminds me that home is not really a place. It’s the people . The people you think about even when you’re looking at something beautiful far away. And no matter how far I travel, part of me is always connected back home. Okay papa.

Flying without the kids felt different. It wasn’t the first time I travelled. But it was the first time in a long while that I boarded a plane without them. This time, it was just the two of us. My wife had to attend a congress i n Barcelona . And I followed along as i felt thats the right thing as this is her first time flying to a country so far from Singapore. At the airport, everything felt… lighter. No rushing. No reminding. No “stay close” or “hold my hand.” No "Are you ok" No" Are you hungry" No" Please drink water" Just two adults walking through quietly. We checked in without distraction. Sat down without needing to check on anything. It felt calm. Too calm. On the plane, there were no small voices calling “Papa.” No need to adjust seats, no cartoons playing beside me, no little hands reaching over. For a moment, I enjoyed the calmness and serenity. But not for long. Because somewhere in between the silence, I realised somet...

The night before I leave always feels a little different. The bags are packed. Passports checked. Everything ready. But my mind isn’t fully on the trip. I know i'm needed here. But i also know i can't let her make this trip alone. I trust she'll be fine. But i still feel better being there with her. The kids are going about their usual routine. Talking. Laughing. School. Enrichment classes. Nothing feels different to them. But to me, it feels like I’m about to miss a few days of it. The small things. The morning rush. The random conversations. The familiar noise in the house. I know it’s only a short trip. They’ll be okay. Escalation call list given them. Everything will continue as usual with the help from family. But as a parent, you get used to being around and so involved. And when you’re not, you feel it. Nights before feels quieter, even when it isn’t. I find myself looking at them a bit more. Listening a bit longer. Staying a bit closer. Not bec...

Travel feels different now. It used to be about the destination and experience. The places. The food. The photos. The excitement of seeing something new. Now, travel feels more like preparation. Packing extra clothes. Making sure everyone has their passports. Making sure itinerary is planned before the trip. Snacks for the journey. Chargers. Medicine (Fever, Flu, Allergy etc.). One more last check before leaving the house. Sometimes it feels like moving the whole home just for a few days away. But somewhere between the rushing and planning, something beautiful happens. I get to see my kids experience the world. The way they get excited over hotel beds. The way every swimming pool becomes the best part of the trip. The random questions they ask about places, and people. The amount of time spent chit chatting and out together in a day. Even the small inconveniences become memories. Someone forgetting a toothbrush. Someone throwing tantrum. The family trying to deci...