ON VALENTINE’S Day, I went on a date with a very special man.

He was my dad.

The date was part of an event organised to give fathers a chance to spend some  time alone with their daughters and show them how precious they are to them.

I thought it was altogether rather sweet.

But as the day drew closer, nerves set in. And I started to get edgy – really edgy.

Here's a bit of history: My dad and I have never been close. We hardly talk. In  fact, the last time we spent time alone before last Saturday may have been when he gave me a ride somewhere. I can’t even remember when it was.

He is the quintessential Asian father – reserved and one who does not easily show affection.

I, on the other hand, was the rebellious daughter with an independent streak since my teens.

Parents and children, close?

Never the twain shall meet, I used to think.

But as I grew older and saw other fathers who showed their affections openly to  their daughters in tender relationships, I found myself feeling sad.

Having grown up without a strong fatherly figure to provide leadership, protection and advice, much less tell me about the birds and the bees, I started to regret not letting my  father “parent” me.

So when this event came up, I plucked up the courage to ask my dad – who initially needed some persuasion from my mum.

On the day itself, I was flummoxed. What does one wear on a Valentine’s date with your father? After I changed outfits a few times, we finally arrived at the venue, a bistro in East Coast Park.

My dad and I just sat and watched while other fathers and daughters had fun.

But through the conversation topics provided for tongue-tied pairs like us, I discovered new things about my dad – I now know how my parents met, and what he used to
work as before his present job.

But the best part of the date for me was that he tried – no matter how awkward he felt.

Although he did not write me a letter or a song like other fathers did for their daughters, I did receive a text message from him as we sat across each other at the table.

It simply said: “Thanks.”

On the way home in the car, without elaborating, my father said it was an “eye-opener” for him. It was the same for me.

Seeing devoted fathers who showed how much they cherished their daughters, I realised that I, too, might be precious to my dad, even though he may not show it.

The date feels like a tipping point – we can either build on our relationship from there, or go back to the old (non-speaking) status quo.  It is something we will have  to work on.

In the meanwhile, I’ll just say: Thanks for a great date, Dad.

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