After four known strokes, and having damaged his sense of balance as well as eyesight, my father is adamant at driving his tractor to plow the land.
Stubborn old man.
There is nothing I can do or say to dissuade him. So the next order of business is to ensure that the path of the tractor is not obstructed with, say, a house. Our house.
So, his body has not yet fully recovered. Balance problems and eyesight problems.
And yet, he remains the stubborn man I have known for three decades.
Stubborn, resolute and extremely righteous.
Oh well. I guess anyone who has ever been in my situation would understand.
How old people change their demeanour as they age even further.
Am taking him for a follow-up tomorrow and we shall see his levels and other things.
He's telling stories of Communists and drunk Indians. And how the Malays fought the Japanese during the Second World War.
I am listening, wondering if some day I can make a film based on his colourful tales.
I will lie down soon. Need all the rest I can get. For tomorrow is another day.
