July 5, 2008

• A father son moment

  I took my dad to the cemetery.  It’s been three years now and he has a very
  difficult time there.  I left him alone
  briefly while I got some water for the flowers. 
  He looked intensely at the columbarium. 
  After I placed the flowers down, he started to talk about the old days –
  back in Manila
  when he was just a child.  He sat down on
  the cold metal bench and talked about his grandfather who really was the force
  behind the family.  He recalled talked
  about skipping a grade and then another one when he was about 8 to 9 yrs
  old.  He talked about the many relatives
  that came over to the Philippines
  who were from the same village as his grandfather.  They came to find work and opportunity. 

  His grandfather helped set them up with jobs.  Some were able to learn English, trades,
  business skills while others who had no aptitude for learning and hard work
  simply languished.   One year, his dad somehow
  managed to enroll him into an American school. 
  His grandfather chafed at the decision. 
  He worried that my dad will be useless because he won’t learn Chinese.  The metal bench wasn’t that comfortable and
  every time I shifted position, he thought I wanted to leave.  But I said no – I had time.  He continued chatting for awhile about
  relatives whose names I barely remember. 
  He would grimace when I gave him a blank look at those names.  Eventually he stood up and said we should get
  going.  He took one last look at my mom’s
  resting spot and got into my car. 

  We went to dimsum for lunch. 
  As we sat down, he hailed one of the long time servers and asked for Doa
  Foo Fa (soy bean custard).  The server
  was surprised and jokingly asked why he wanted dessert so soon when he hadn’t
  even eaten the dim sum yet.  I just
  shrugged.  I guess he’s entitled to eat
  whatever he wants and whenever he wants. 
  He nodded in approval as he ate the custard.  It had a sweet ginger syrup on it.  I selected the rest of the dimsum from the
  carts when they rolled past our table. 
  He was soon stuffed.  Satisfied –
  I paid the bill after the manager came by and waived the “tea charge”.  I drove him home, saw him into the house and
  left.  As I drove away, I looked at the
  door and he was standing there waving goodbye as he always does. 

  Later that evening, my sister called me and told me my dad
  was despondent and withdrawn.  I called
  him the next day and he told me he was fine – just had a rough evening.  I can’t believe how fast he has aged in the
  last year.  The “age spots” are all over
  him.  One of his fingers is crooked.  He used a cane for the first time after his
  back started to ache.  The strong,
  commanding voice now sounds nervous and hesitant.  He’s also lost weight.  He was a voracious reader and now complains
  that he can only read 50 pages a day. 

  Some of you commend me on being a good son.  But I struggle at this.  You only read things from my perspective with
  all my biases.  I know I should spend
  more time with him. 

  • 12:25 AM
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