Taxi Uncles’ Stories

I make an effort to chat with taxi uncles* because what they have to say often fascinates me.
In fact, I have been impressed by their attitudes and pragmatic solutions to spending up to 12 hours out of the house, on the road, daily.

One chooses to ferry his daughter to and from her workplace. Another, who does the same, says it’s time for him to catch up with his son. The middle-aged father is concerned that the young man, fresh out of army, does not get too stressed about working life, so he takes the travelling time to find out how his son is coping at the office.

And there was this father who finds out where his teenage son and friends hang out. He even offers to ferry them to and from late night parties.

The taxi driver who left the deepest impression was this man who told me that every man should appreciate his wife for giving birth to his children. He said that that even with all the medical advancement in the world, “She put her life at risk to bear me a child, you know?”

Hence he tries his best to get home to his family for meals. He also tells his son - who’ll soon be entering the workforce - that in time to come, he’d rather the young man earn a little less, but still get to come home to visit his aged parents.

My Dad’s Journey (and mine)

Why do I write about taxi drivers? Maybe it’s because I remember those rides my dad gave me after studying till 10pm every weekday night at the University. They were very functional in nature. I hated travelling (still do) so even if it meant that he’d pick me up in a rickety van, it beat taking the bus.

We didn’t really talk much. Sometimes we’d even argue over the tensions taking place at home. Or, there’d be heated discussions over what I perceived as his inadequacies.

But night after night, he’d be at the same spot waiting for me until I finished my last examination.
Nevertheless, since I was in primary school, I had struggled with my dad’s inability to provide financially for the family. Mum paid my way through school - and life mostly.

Now that he’s passed away and I’ve grown up, I understand that he was struggling with issues that he could never face up to.

My feelings with dad were so ambivalent that I did not even give him a ticket to my graduation. With the University issuing only two tickets, I decided that my mum and grandma should go. For my grandmother had sacrificed far more bringing me up than my father ever did.

But the ‘ole rascal was resourceful enough to secure three front row tickets for the ceremony. Therefore he got to attend it with my mum and grandma. I am glad he did. I guess it was his way of saying: “You are important to me.”

It’s possible that the impetus for writing these stories of journeys on the road stems from my desire for dads to take comfort from the fact that everyone struggles.

Humps, Potholes & Roadblocks

Which father will not struggle to connect with his child? Every dad will from time to time, wish that the burdens in life were not so heavy. Some even wish they were still kids, and didn’t have responsibilities to contend with.

Or you might struggle with habits or health issues that create barriers between you and your child. At times it might be the circumstances that make it hard for you to be there for the kids. For example, you may have to be away for extended periods of time or you only get to see them on weekends.

Fact is, dads are often faced with less than ideal situations. My appeal is for dads to recognise that every dad struggles, but deep down you love your child. Therefore, do whatever you can to connect with him or her.

You’ll have limited resources. Things that come in the way may include work, poor health, circumstances, perceptions, even incarceration. But do what you can even with those limitations.

Wherever you can, address those issues that can create chasms or gulfs between your child and you. Stop what may lead to gaping holes in your children’s lives.

Most of the time, they’ll grow up into adults that eventually heal. But you’ll want to do what you can for them, when you can now.

Roads to Recovery

It’s been an inner journey that started with a simple story about taxi drivers; little did I know that it would lead me to a deeper appreciation of my dad. Therefore I close with a nice memory of my dad that had been tucked away for a long time.

When I was 15, my paternal grandfather suffered a fall in his home. Dad and I rushed to his side, fast enough to put him into the ambulance and assure him that we’d be around. Dad sped all the way from our home in the west to granddad’s home in Chai Chee, in the eastern part of Singapore.

I was impressed with my dad’s superb driving skills. But I was even more impressed by his dedication to his own dad. It’s good that we could bond that way. It’s good that despite his limitations, my dad showed me what’s kindness and familial love in action.

*In Singapore, customers commonly refer to cab drivers as ‘Taxi Uncles