Nineteen.
Somehow that sounds a little too close to “twenty” for my liking. It feels like we somehow skipped a few chapters and arrived here too fast.
Maybe it’s because this year started so differently for you. While most people were still recovering from pineapple tart overload during Chinese New Year, you were on a ferry to Tekong - on the third day of CNY, no less.
You didn’t just enlist early. You got the “premium” version—19 weeks of BMT instead of the usual 10, thanks to a BMI reading and an IPPT score that didn’t quite pass. Almost double the time in the bunk, the sweat, and the sergeants’ motivational speeches.
I worried. I won’t pretend otherwise. Could you handle the discipline, the early mornings, the PT? Would you crumble without late-night gaming and YouTube? Would you still know how to smile without Wi-Fi?
Well, you didn’t just cope - you surprised me. Not only did you survive, you passed your IPPT before your Passing Out Parade. And somewhere in those 19 weeks, you levelled up in ways I didn’t expect. You carry yourself differently now; more confident, more responsible, even the way you speak has a new calm authority.
Like assisting your mummy whenever she needs help with Excel. Seeing you lean over patiently to guide her through a formula, when not too long ago she was the one guiding you through your first words and homework... it’s one of those quiet, ordinary moments that somehow mean everything.
Still, some things remain gloriously unchanged. The moment you book out, the uniform comes off, the headset goes on, and you transform back into Night Owl Ayd - gaming till ungodly hours, bingeing videos, and demolishing a week’s worth of snacks in one sitting. It’s like your own counter-BMT training: replacing push-ups with potato chips.
So today, we celebrate 19 years of Ayd. The boy who used to count down to his birthdays now counts down to his next book out. The young man who’s learned to march in step, but still knows how to march straight to the fridge when he gets home.
I miss having you around every day: the background laughter soundtrack emitting from your room to just seeing you lie on your bed chilling. But I couldn’t be prouder of the young man you’ve become.
Happy 19th birthday, Ayd. You may be in uniform now, but under all that discipline, mud, and Excel wizardry, you’re still my boy.
Now please pass me the cookies before you finish it all.
Love,
Papa
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