06/21/2020
Day 9 Log 1.9
Jun 19, 2020 Fatherâs Day
I paid tribute to my mother on Motherâs Day and now I should be fair and do the same for my father. While my mother was with strong character, my father was the nice gentleman in the background supporting her, letting her do what she wanted. I told you before that my father was not around much while I was growing up. I can only link up the bits and pieces that I can remember. After all, my father passed away more than 35 years ago. Even so, these memories are still so vivid in my mind. Perhaps I am getting older now and finally have gained the wisdom of appreciation, love and respect towards my
parents.
My father was born in the very southern part of Mainland China just north of Hainan Island. The year he was born, 1911, was the year the Qing Dynasty collapsed. I donât know much about his childhood. In 2008, I visited his ancestral village and his grave with my family for the first time. During a dinner with all the relatives, I was told about how he was idolized in his village when he was young because he was the most educated person among all at that time.
My father loved learning and he studied hard. He became the highest ranking officer at a very young age in the province where he lived. He could give speeches to large audiences without having to read from any notes. I remember my mother telling me how she admired him for that. My parents met each other in Hong Kong. They both fled China during the turbulent time when the Communists took over China. Being an officer from the losing side in the Civil War (Kuomintang, Taiwan), my father could not have stayed but had to leave China leaving behind his first wife and 5 children. The pain and suffering that my half family went through because of my father was unfathomable. Years later when China opened up, my mother made the effort to try to help the first wife and her family then. Unfortunately, it was too late for my father. He never got the chance to go back to his village and his first family, only after his passing, my mother brought his ashes back. The year we visited China was the first time the two families finally reunited, 50 years afterward!
So, was my father my hero? Well, he gave me my life and taught me well in the limited time we had together. You may think he was cruel by leaving his first family behind. No, not to me, he was always so kind and gentle. I feel that he was born in the wrong period of time. He was dealt with bad cards in life, until the very end. Though he never complained of anything even when he was paralyzed by a stroke. For about 3 years I was his âphysical and mental therapistâ in helping my mother. I walked with him, showered him and sang songs to him. I knew him much better during this time than my entire lifetime. He told me that I should study nursing in school. Oh well, that didnât happen. I would never forget the day I departed for my journey to the US. After I said my farewell to him, I walked away without turning my head. I was afraid because I knew in my heart that it might be the last time I would see him. Indeed, it was. I am truly grateful to have those days that I shared with my father. He wrote to me often in the first couple years after I arrived in the US and I kept all his letters until today. Through his experience I learned a lot about life. He was a very good man!
Nowadays, my children prefer to discuss issues with their father. My daughter once claimed that âmommy yells, daddy talksâ. I am not jealous or angry about this, rather I feel satisfied and fulfilled. Yes, I also married a very good man!
Happy Fatherâs Day!
