Gastric pains

I've has gastric pains ever since I was a little girl. Even though my dad never lived with us, he was always the one who took care of me during a gastric attack. He empathized because he suffered from them too, and had an ulcer once. He empathized anyway, because I was indeed, daddy's little girl.

He bought biscuits, Milo, soyabean packet drinks for me just so I always had a filling snack on hand whenever I felt hungry. He stocked the fridge with ham and the cupboard with bread or raisin buns. He always reminded me not to eat spicy foods, glutinous rice or anything too acidic.

I remember loving the Milo, biscuits, soyabean drinks, the picnic ham and bread. I remember telling him one day I had had enough of raisin bread and not to buy it everyday. I remember ignoring his advice about spicy foods and becoming a chili fiend instead.

I remember that when my dad did stay with us, he always slept on a thin mattress in the living room. I was the earliest riser in the house and would run out of my mom's bedroom looking for my dad the moment I woke up. I would lie beside him and fall asleep again.

I sleep on a mattress in our study with Chris, because he still nurses at night and we're afraid he might wake baby elephant if we all slept in the same room. Baby elephant comes to our little mattress on the floor everyday, looking to snuggle and I indulge him because I know how good it feels.

Last night, I had bad gastric pains again. That was a few hours ago. They're almost all gone now, thank God. I need to stop the pains from coming back. I worry too much about the boys and how Vader will cope if I ever had to be hospitalized like my dad.

I miss my Papa. Fathers' day is coming right? I need to find some excuse to go out for lunch with him one of these days. It'll be much easier when I start work...