Beep. Beep.
I held my phone and searched for the inbox. My heart jumped for it was Papa. It was unexpected. He rarely remembers me. He rarely sends text message to me. He never calls. Last year, I received two messages from him. That was all. And the message I received from him yesterday was the second one this year.
Papa: Hello yan. How are you? Just focus in your studies. Okay. Give me Rachel's number. (Rachel is my younger sister.)
Me: Fine Pa. How about you? My birthday is upcoming. My gift?
Then, he didn't reply. I waited for an hour...two...three...NONE.
This morning, I've got his reply.
Papa: When is your birthday again?
Wow. I said to myself. Wow. I just learned that there's a father in this world who can't remember the birthday of his oldest son. It didn't anger me. It was normal. It was expected. It didn't hurt my ego nor affected my emotional behavior. It didn't affect even a single cell in my body. I just want my gift! That's all!