The best five days of my life
The other thing about my dad/family was something else that I also learned in Cornell: When I took my first Chinese language class, the teacher asked how to say “maternal grandmother” in Chinese.
I confidently said, “阿婆 (ā pó)” but was corrected, it was “外婆 (wàipó).”
I’d never heard of 外婆 (wàipó) before, we never used that term nor had I ever heard it before.
Me: I was so embarrassed that I got that wrong. Why didn’t we use the right way of saying it for [mom’s mom]?
Father: Do you know what 外婆 means? It means “outside grandmother.” That’s what you call the wife’s mother because, in Chinese culture, the mother’s family and side doesn’t count – they’re outsiders and not really part of the family. That’s wrong, I think, and offensive. Your mom’s family is as much a part of our family as mine is.
For all my dad’s traditions and pressure, he was a decent and fair man and that story perfectly encapsulates him.
It was a simple but profound thing, which makes sense as he was both a simple and profound man.
And I think that a major reason the three of us – my sister, brother, and myself – have been so successful in life.
Moreso than the education and the accolates.
Because I suppose we always knew that, no matter what, our parents loved us and always would.
That’s a powerful comfort in an uncomfortable world and something that I hope I give my own kid.
Yeah, if there’s one thing that I’d like to pass on from my dad to my own kid, it’s that.
My dad died August 24th, 2017, seven years ago this week.
I love him every bit right now as I did seven years ago and always will.
Even though, at times, I wonder if he knew.
Me: (angrily) Yeah, well, you wait. My kid is gonna be successful and happy. It won’t matter to me if he goes to an ivy league or not.
Him: You’re threatening me with a happy and successful grandkid? (laughing) Go ahead. Because that’s exactly what I want too. When you’re a dad yourself, you’ll understand. I’m trying to keep you all safe.
And, of course, I totally care if he makes it into an ivy league or not.
Just maybe – maybe – not quite as much.
Did you know that no two tigers have the same stripes?
A tiger’s pattern is as unique as human fingerprints AND not only is a tiger’s fur striped, but its skin is also striped as well.
It has hidden beauties you wouldn’t know about while it was alive.
This also means that every tiger is different from every other tiger, despite all outward appearances.
My dad may have been Chinese, but he was so different in many ways and uniquely mine.
I wish he was still here.
But I suppose you already knew that.
The picture above is the day my parents met my son.
It’s one of only a handful of pictures I have with all three of them.
The main picture is another of the few – precious – images I have of my father with my son.
I have none with him, Alison, and my son. Zero fucking pictures.
Not a single goddamn one.
And everything went to shit after that picture.
But, for a moment in time, that was the happiest I ever was because my entire family was alive and happy for five days.
I didn’t yet know that would be all I would ever get. Ever.
Those were the best five days of my life.
What a shitty truth it is that the lucky never realize they are lucky until it’s too late.
Location: yesterday and today, bars. Drinking it all away.
Mood: cautious
Music: I’ve got memories and travel like gypsies in the night (Spotify)
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