A tear came out from my father’s eye. And then one came after another, they fell like a steady rain. I had never seen my father cry since the day I was born. Not once. I had thousands of words in my mind, but I still couldn’t squeeze one word out.
“Is it really possible to tell someone else what one feels?” My inner self asked. My answer was always, no. I was never good at expressing my feelings to others since I was a kid. It was never easy to tell my parents what I thought. While others considered me as my parents’ good boy, I knew that I was just obedient and never refused an order.
It began with a question on the day when I turned eight. “Do you want to learn how to play piano?”
My parents thought that I should cultivate an interest in playing a classic instrument which would do good to my whole-person development. I saw no harm and wanted to live up to their expectations. I nodded my head, yes.
I was left alone with my piano teacher another day. “Even though you’re my ex-colleague’s child, I will not be lenient if you keep making mistakes.” That’s the very first sentence I heard from Mrs. Cheung. “Your target is to pass grade 3 examination with merit when you’re ten. Are you okay with this arrangement?” I nodded my head once again. To live up to my parents' expectations and Mrs. Cheung’s requirements, practice was the only thing to do when I had free time. I thought that I could persist until I was secondary 3.
“Plink…plink, plink…Boom!!” I thumped on the piano. What was I even playing? Why would I get trapped in this white confining room with nothing else left but just a piano? The keys that I pressed would not assemble to form a soothing melody; instead they gathered as a cry, yelling “Get me out of here”.
Only one week till my grade 7 piano examination, but the motivation that kept pushing me to practice lessened day by day. I had gradually become indifferent to playing piano in these years. My piano skills had turned rusty, as I wasn’t really practicing when I should. I was lost.
No doubt, I failed the exam. I failed my parents and Mrs. Cheung.
“This is the lowest mark I have ever seen. What have you done?” Silence was my reply. I could make up a bunch of excuses, but I would rather stay silent. The truth is I was not surprised by my score or my teacher’s reaction. I already knew that my perseverance would slacken and fail everyone one day. I thought I could change, and I would get passionate about playing piano one day. I tried, but I failed. I knew that I could no longer follow this path.
It was a normal night. No one said a word while having dinner. The sounds that came out of the television were the only thing that alleviated the awkwardness between us. “Kelvin, we need to talk.” My father stopped me when I had just finished the dinner and planned to go back into my ‘comfort zone’. “I know you are befuddled these days. If you never speak out, we would never know what is going wrong. We just want you to know that your mom and I are always willing to listen to you and help you. If you are having trouble, just tell us okay?” A tear came out from my father’s eye.
“I…I……” Tears also blocked my words. All these years, I used silence to put up a barrier between me and my parents. “Hey! Calm down and speak! There’s no way to keep silent anymore.” My inner self said that to my brain. I took a deep breath, and started the longest speech to my parents in my life so far.
“I know you two have never forced me to do anything. It’s me the whole time. I’m the one who gives myself enormous pressure on learning piano. I want my parents to be proud of their son. I wanted to live up to your expectations and I didn’t want to fail you two. But you know what? I’ve been doing it all wrong. I hadn’t even told you once what I feel, let alone reject your request. I can no longer insist. Please forgive me……”
It was a hug from my dad that stopped me talking. His 5 feet 5 inches tall, round-shaped body surrounded me with care and love all in a sudden. I couldn’t remember when was the last time my dad gave me a hug. It came out that my reserved personality was a mirror of my dad. He had stopped saying that he loves me since I was in primary school. But instead, he gave his all to show it, just like my mum. We both believed that action speaks louder than words. But suddenly it seemed to me that words somehow matter a lot too. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
***
“Guess what? I had a great lunch today with my friends. It’s a Japanese restaurant in Tsuen Wan……” It was another normal night after a few months. I tended to speak much more to my parents after that time. It was not just me who changed, but also my parents. They would chit-chat with me and my sister during dinner. Sometimes, they would even tell us about the pressure from their work and ask for a shoulder massage. The relationship between me and my parents had never been that good before.
Still, I would keep silent sometimes when I felt down. It is also a signal to my parents to just leave me alone for a while. Those silences usually wouldn’t last long anymore. “Are you alright now? Go talk to your parents.” That was my inner self that kept pushing me to speak. Only through proper communication can others know what you feel. That’s what I believe in now.
“Excuse me, Dad. Emm… can we talk?”