More than all the gold in the world
Saw a buncha kids around my son the other day cause he was telling them a story.
Laughed to myself as I approached them because I find him so amusingly social.
But then I heard him what he was saying.
Him: She died when I was a baby. I was only a few days old.
Boy: Were you sad?
Girl: How did she die?
That’s when I had to turn back. This is not how it’s supposed to fucking be. Shit. Piss. Fuck.
He’s in fucking first grade. This is not what a first grader should be talking about.
It hurts that my son will never know him. That he’ll never know Alison.
My dad took us back to Taiwan when his dad, my grandfather, died. I was the same age as the kid in the photo above, about two?
So, I have no recollection. Suppose I turned out fine but I realize how much this must have hurt my dad because I feel the loss myself now.
Whenever we would talk, he would want to cook me something. I suppose that was his love language: Food.
When I was doing keto/Atkins, he made it a point to keep steaks in the freezer so he could make me a steak with broccoli on the side. I eventually got tired of steak – a wild thing to say, I realize – but I never said anything because I knew he bought an army’s worth of steak for me to have.
If you have both parents and all grandparents, consider yourself very lucky in that regard. I never knew my dad’s dad, just like my son won’t know his dad’s dad.
Him: You miss your daddy? Because he died?
Me: (slowly) Yes. I miss my daddy.
Him: I’m sorry, papa.
Me: Thanks, kiddo. You’re my favourite, you know?
Him: Even mommy?
Me: (thinking) We both loved you more than anything else in the world.
Him: More than anything?
Me: (nodding) More than anything. More than all the gold in the world.
Location: this fucking place
Music: the beautiful thing You’re doing is making new things out of ruins (Spotify)
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