I had dinner tonight with my dad.   One of the dishes we ordered tonight was chicken.  Whenever I have chicken, I am always reminded of a story my mom told us when we were kids.  She was having a family dinner and her grandmother was there.  Back then, some of the elders had their favorite parts of the chicken.  There was an unwritten rule not to touch those pieces. 

My mom probably wasn’t paying attention and she picked the piece of chicken nearest her.  It was the chicken butt.  She ate it and didn’t think anything of it.  Her grandmother then went looking for her favorite piece – of course it was the chicken butt.  She would search the dish, pushing aside pieces of chicken searching for the butt.  When she couldn’t find it, she moaned “How odd, this chicken doesn’t have a butt.”  In the meantime, my mom was horrified.  She didn’t know what to do.  I asked her if her grandmother knew that she ate the butt.  My mom replied “Of course!  She was just trying to get a point across and remind everyone that the chicken's butt belongs to her.”

We roared with laughter when she told us that story. 

Speaking of chicken, whenever my mom served chicken, she would always eat the back bone and the neck.  My dad would chide her and try to give her a meatier piece.  She would always protest.  "The bones are where the flavor is and it’s a more satisfying piece."  With that, she would wave my dad off.  As a kid, I thought that was odd.  But that worked out well for me.  I had the drumstick or the thigh and it meant more food for me. 

As I grew older, I knew what she was doing.  I also noticed my dad doing the same thing.  He would eat more rice than food.  Mom would notice that and spoon more meat or veggies for him.  Of course he would protest and insisted that he is a “fan tung” (literally a rice bucket).   

Tonight’s chicken was cut into small pieces and most of them had bones.  I looked carefully for the meatier ones and gave those to dad so he didn’t have to worry about the bones.  I had the pieces from the back.  Mom was right.  They are more satisfying to eat.   

 When I was growing up, my parents didn’t show a lot of emotion.  I would see some of my friends getting hugs and kisses from their parents but my parents didn’t do that.  When I watched TV, practically every parent would practically dole out hugs and kisses.  It wasn’t that there was a lack of love in my family.  I was old enough to know that.  Dad was very formal with us when we were kids.  The lack of hugs etc.. didn’t really bother too much but it always gnawed at me.  I just wrote it off as dad being the typical Asian father.

Over the years though, little bits of information came out.  His mother wasn’t exactly a great mother.  She never thought much of my dad’s interest in business and commerce.  She was also tough on all of the kids.  From what I understand, she didn’t really know how to be a mother.   One of her sons (my uncle) had a darker complexion than the rest of his siblings.  As a joke, she told him that he was abandoned as a child and they picked him up from the street corner.  Whenever they went out for a drive, she would point out to some street corner and tell her son – that’s where we picked you up.

I was stunned when I heard that story from my dad.  In a rare moment of candor, my dad said her mom didn’t show a lot of physical affection to him.  He often thought that affected his parenting style.  Yet it was he who looked after my grandmother when she was old.  I remembered at her funeral, I had to carry her picture.  But the image that was seared in my mind was my dad following the funeral car and crying his eyes out.  It was the first time I saw him cry.  I wonder how much of that was the pain of the death and also of the regret of what that relationship could have been.

A lot of things make sense now about his parenting style.  The deeds, actions and sacrifices he made for his family more than made up for any lack of hugs and kisses. 

I was chatting with my aunt who came back from a brief visit to Hong Kong.  She told me they spent one day visiting the cemeteries to pay respects to her parents, an older sister and other members of the family that have passed on.  She went with her brother who took her to each gravesite.

In an instant, I remembered the first time I visited Hong Kong as an adult with my cousin.  My uncle took my cousin and I on a similar tour to pay our respects.  We purchased flowers along the way and my uncle patiently took us to every relative that he knew.  The cemetery was on a side of a large hill so there was a lot of climbing and walking.  One of the graves we visited was my uncle’s dad.  He was also named Matthew.  I found out later he got baptized in the last days of his life and was buried in a Catholic cemetery. 

My uncle told me that my Uncle's dad adored my mom when mom was just a child.  She was his favorite.  I made some rough notes of where his grave was and also those of my grandparents.  I returned to Hong Kong a couple of years later and visited the cemetery on my own.  My mom wrote down the cemetery’s name in Chinese so any taxi driver could get me there.  I found my grandparents but couldn’t find my uncle’s dad despite my notes.  I walked around and around and was a bit disappointed.  I still had some of the pink carnations from the ladies who sold them to me by the entrance.   I was talking to myself (not out loud) and I think I said something like – where are you?  I absentmindedly took a couple of steps and looked down.  His grave was right in front of me.  I smiled and placed the flowers there.  It was almost as if he was somehow directing me.  My mom laughed when I told her the story. 

Years later, my sister was traveling on business and she visited the cemetery as well.  She told me she found our grandparents and when she walked around she saw my uncle’s dad’s grave.  She didn’t know about my story.  My uncle had an unusual family name so she took note of it.  When she returned, she told my mom about her discovery.  My mom was pleasantly surprised and explained who he was.  The grave is a bit off the path.  She told me she just somehow stumbled on it. 

I’ve always thought this was more than a coincidence.  I don't have those notes about the cemetery anymore.  I wonder if I will be able to find his grave again the next time I visit Hong Kong?

It’s been absolutely relaxing to have the last couple of weeks off.   I’ve forgotten what it was like to sleep in for days at a time.  I’ve been waking up lately around 9:30ish and actually feel refreshed for a change.  I knew I was running on fumes the past few months and I felt really drained heading into the Christmas break. 

Christmas dinners at dad’s and with my brother’s extended family went relatively well.  At one of the dinners with my brother’s extended family, they were also celebrating the birth of a new baby boy.  He had beautiful blue eyes and looked fragile as he was only 7 days old.   He was born early so the parents were very careful with him.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad staring at the baby.  He was asking the usual questions about the baby which surprised me.  He was also watching the grandmother hold the baby as well.  I couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed.  I had hoped that he and my mom would one day hold my child.  I know they did but they have never mentioned that to me before.  I didn’t dwell on it though and just enjoyed the meal. 

I also enjoyed a great meal at my bf’s place over the holidays and got to play with the kids.  Actually it was just the baby I got to play with which was fine with me.  The older ones were busy with their computer games and/or TV.  I was so mesmerized watching the little one solve a two sided jigsaw puzzle.  He can do it with a bit of coaching.  When he goes home, he gives everyone a hug and a peck on the cheek.  Sometimes it’s a wet, sloppy kiss prompting howls of laughter and much face wiping.  But this time, it was just a nice, gentle little *smack*. 

 The only downside to this break is that I’ve caught a cold.  Thankfully there’s no body aches or fever but my throat feels like the primary battle ground for this virus.  I’ve been taking medication, herbal tea, tea with honey, lemon … I’ve also got the humidifier set on high.  I just hope this goes away soon.  It sort of put a damper on New Year’s Eve with my bf.  Instead of going out, he brought over some take out Vietnamese food and we just had a quiet evening.   He still rolls his eyes when I take food pictures though.

 

 Roast lamb made by my sister.

 

Prime rib from my brother. 

Take out Vietnamese food.  The rice was a bit cold by the time we got to eat it.  But we were so hungry it didn't matter.  We had some sparkling wine at midnight.  

It was one of those mixed days yesterday.  I took my dad for another medical appointment.  It wasn’t the greatest news from the doctor and he has to come back in January for some follow up treatment.  We went to dimsum at restaurant we had frequented for many years.  I was surprised he ate so much considering it wasn’t noon.  But it’s always good to watch him finish everything.  I always worry when he doesn’t eat.   He talked about the bottles of wine he received from his brother in law, the family, our work and the cost of medicine.  It was one of those conversations that seemed to go all over the place.   

When we left, there was a car that park very close to my car on the driver’s side.  It was about a foot or two past the line.  I stood back to see if anyone from the restaurant or the stores would notice and come running out.  But no one did.  I took out my key, put it on my left hand and held it very close to the other car as I squeezed my fat ass through the gap.  I made it in while wiping the salt stains clean on the side of my car.  I didn’t key his car even though I really wanted to.  Maybe I do have the Christmas spirit in me after all. 

Later that night, my bf and I watched Jay Chou performed at the Air Canada Centre.  Aside from watching him on my bf’s dvd, I don’t really know a lot of his songs or his movies.  You can see Sheldon’s review, pics and videos here.  The show was very good and it’s obvious he has many, loyal and passionate fans.  I was very impressed with him and the show.  He comes across as confident without being cocky and at times he almost seems modest.  He’s generous and shared the stage with some other singers.   He interlaced his show with excerpts from movies that he’s done.  There was also a very interesting and lively piano “duel” and a quirky western tune too.  I was also surprised that in addition to the piano and guitar, Jay also did a brief number on the drums and I think a Guzheng.  My bf tried to translate some of the Mandarin dialogue but it was tough to hear my bf with all the screaming girls behind us.  “I love you Jay!”… yikes.   All in all – he’s very entertaining, polished and left me hanging for more.  It was great to hang out with my bf in the middle of the week.  We rarely get to do that because of our work schedules.  All in all – it was a very nice way to end the day. 

I was thinking of heading out to do some shopping but it's snowing now.  I also have to find my glove.  I only have one of them.  Odd....

 

I’ve been chatting on and off with my cousin online recently.  He’s gay and has been out since he was about 16.  He’s younger than I am but has been through more than I have. I haven’t seen him in years and we only met once at a family reunion almost 10 years ago.  Prior to the reunion, I was looking at pictures from a previous reunion.  There was one guy I didn’t know.  But since there are a lot of mixed marriages in my family, I just assumed that the Caucasian guy was either married to one of my relatives or someone’s boyfriend.  After accounting for everyone, it dawned on me that he wasn’t with any of the female relatives.  I asked my mom about this guy and she grudgingly admitted that he was my cousin’s “friend”.

During the reunion, we shared a room and chatted easily each night.   At the first night, he asked me if I knew he was gay.  I nodded and said that someone had already told me.  He then asked if I was uncomfortable with it and I said no.  I didn’t tell him about me though.  We had a pretty good time and developed a comfortable rapport.   We kept in touch after the reunion but then he moved around and I lost touch. 

He popped back online earlier this year.  We were chatting easily and time didn’t erode our relationship.  One night he said something to the effect “I know you’re not gay but gay friendly….”  I just typed back “I’m gay.”  There was a pause and he replied that he wasn’t surprised.  He told me he always had a strong feeling I was gay.  Now it was my turn to be surprised. I asked him why he thought that.  He said most straight guys would feel a bit hesitant or perhaps uncomfortable talking with him.

It was the easy rapport and the level of comfort we both had with each other that led him to conclude that I was probably gay.  It's different talking to him now.   I'm glad he knows about me now.  That family bond we have just seems a bit stronger.  

The traffic was surprisingly light even though it was in the
middle of the rush hour.  My radio was on
the all news station hoping to catch the latest traffic report in case there
was an accident up ahead.  But I got
across the city without even hitting any stop and go traffic.  I thought that was the strangest rush hour I've driven in.  As I made my way down to my dad’s place, I
kept thinking what I was going to say to him.

I had called him just before I left work to see how he
was.  I knew he had just found out from
his brother that his sister had passed away. 
It was not a surprise as she had been ill.  He told me he was still in shock and very distressed.  When I pulled into the driveway, he was
sitting out on the porch.  I asked him if
he wanted a tea or some hot water.  He
said no and just stared straight ahead. 
I dropped my laptop bag inside and got a bottle of water.  My sister was already home and on the phone
with a relative.  I slipped back outside
to be with him.

I told him we were fortunate to have visited her couple of
weeks ago.  He said yes, that is of some
consolation as was finding out that she passed away peacefully.   He started talking about his sister and the
old days.  I am not close to any of my
dad’s relatives at all.  They weren’t a
close family.  My grandmother wasn’t
exactly a doting mother.  She was cold and
distant.  But dad told me that he was
closer to this sister than the others. 

We spent about an hour out there in the cool air
chatting.  I was starting to get cold but
he had his fleece on so I hung in there gamely. 
During one moment of silence, I noticed across the street a woman
dragging a recycling bin back to the garage. 
Before she got halfway, her son came out to meet her and gave her a long
hug.  She just dropped the bin and her
purse and held on to her son.  That’s
what I wanted to do to with my dad.

Every so often he would continue talking about what life was
like back then.  I gently pried him with
easy questions but let him guide the conversation.  Maybe it was my imagination or wishful
thinking but his voice seemed a bit stronger as he continued to talk.

He asked me if I got the thank you card from my aunt.  I said I did but I haven’t opened it
yet.  He showed me the thank you card he
got from his sister.  It was short and
sweet.  I was surprised that her
handwriting was still very good.  I
stayed for dinner to make sure he ate. 
As I pulled out of the driveway, he stood by the door and waved goodbye
– his usual routine.  When I got home, I
saw the card from my aunt.  In it, she
thanked me for “bringing my brother here to be with me.”  I said a silent prayer for her.  Good bye Auntie N. 

The trip with my dad went well for the most part.  He told me afterwards that he was glad to
have an opportunity to see most of his brothers and sister.  Their family (my dad’s brothers and sister)
aren’t that close.  There hase been a few
upheavals years ago which have fractured the family.  Over time, they’ve tried to rebuild these bonds
although some have never healed.  Sadly, some of them have passed on without seeing their own brothers and sisters again.  My mom
told me a long time ago that they’ve gotten together on family reunions for the
sake of the next generations.   So it was good to see several of my uncles and
the last remaining aunt on my dad’s side.

I was surprised at how easy my dad spoke about his
relationship with his dad, grandfather and his siblings.  He usually is very reserved about these
topics.  I just asked him open ended
questions and tried to be comfortable during the quiet moments.  It was tough though, sometimes when he’s
struggling to find the right words, I’ll fill it for him.  If he nods, then I know it’s the right
word.  But when he pauses again, I know
that wasn’t the word he was looking for. 
It was good to get some quiet time with him. 

My dad gets impatient though at a lot of little things.  Even though I told him about the customs
check, he barely tolerated the delay and kept muttering about the red tape and
bottlenecks.  He lost it once at dinner over
what he perceived as poor service.  But
for the most part, he held up well. 

One thing that I did learn about my dad’s family is that
almost all of them had high blood pressure. 
My grandfather died of a stroke when he was in his mid 50’s.  I asked my dad if grandfather worked longer
hours than my dad at his prime.  He
grimaced and told me quietly “He worked himself to death.”   He didn’t say much after that.  But over the weekend, he told me bits and
pieces about my grandfather.  I knew both
my grandfather and great grandfather were good business men.  My dad swelled with pride as he recounted
stories of how they started and expanded the family business.  I have to give them credit for being
innovative. 

That was the one tip that I picked up over the weekend.  Get a medical history of your family before
it’s too late.  Make sure you pass it on
to your family doctor. 

I'm going to be traveling with my dad tomorrow
to visit a few of his brothers and sister.  We'll be gone for the
weekend.  He's not a patient traveler and I fear he'll say the wrong thing
to a custom officer.  As he's gotten older,  the part of the brain that controls what to say and what not to say doesn't work well.  When his doctor gave him a physical some time ago,
he said he told the receptionist afterwards  "Dr. "x" stuck
his finger up my a**!"   I cringed when he told me ... thank goodness I wasn't with
him at the waiting room at time. 

My suitcase will be filled with gifts, extra meds, first aid etc... hopefully
there will still be room for some clothes. My dad's family is not particularly
close knit family.  It's large and widely scattered.  I'll somehow
make the best of it.   I also don't like driving in strange cities.  My brother has lent me his
GPS and I have a map as well.  The only thing I won't have is my
laptop.  I just hope things don't go crazy.  It'll be the first time in ages that I've traveled with my dad.  I did ask for separate rooms as we both have very different sleeping habits. 

Oh yeah, I have to wear a mouthguard now when I sleep.  It's to prevent my teeth from grinding at night and also to prevent my jaw from clenching too tight.  It's a bit awkward to put on and to take off. 

Have a nice weekend everyone! 

  

I accompanied my dad to a doctor’s appt the other day.  I’m never comfortable in a hospital.  If you see me in a hospital, I usually have
this stern look to hide my discomfort.  One
thing I’ve noticed about my dad lately is his lack of patience and an anger
that seems to lurk just beneath the surface. 
 He was complaining about the lack
of professional attire with a lot of the medical staff.  “They don’t know how to dress.  Look at that, someone should tell them how to
look more professional.”  He wears a shirt
and tie to see his doctor so that’ll give you an idea what he’s expecting.  I try to tell him that most doctors like to
keep it informal to help their patients relax and feel comfortable.   

There was also a small child running around in the waiting room.  His mom eventually got tired of chasing after
him and put him back in his carriage. 
This starts off a round of whining and whimpering.  I figured my dad, who is already hard of
hearing, wouldn’t really notice.  But he
leans over and whispers  “Every where I
go, I always end up near a screamer.  The
parents just don’t know how to control their kids.”  I shrug. 
Within minutes, two more baby carriages come into the waiting area.  My dad cringes while I try to take a peek at
the babies.   I whispered back "If you keep complaining, you're gonna end up working in a daycare centre in your next life."  He sort of glared at me but kept quiet after that. 

Dad doesn’t like it when any of us accompany him to doctor’s
appointments.  He knows it’s a pain
getting away from work.  But we tell him
that work is flexible about it so don't worry about it.  It's amazing how the same white
lies handed down generations.  I'm sure he can see right through it.  I’ve often wrote about the role
reversal.  Neither of us is comfortable with
it but we are slowly getting used to it. He values his independence and more importantly his dignity.  I have to keep reminding myself about this.