Looking back, I have very few memories of my dad. He was always working hard for the family. I have a few pictures of him and I together in the same photo. There is a family photo where I am sitting on my dad’s lap. I used to wonder why I sat on his lap. Why not sit on my mom’s lap? My brother sat on her lap, but not me. For some reason, I felt that I should be sitting on my mom’s lap.
One strong memory I have is that my dad smoked. It’s not a negative memory; it’s just difficult for me to remember him from my childhood. I don’t think he was a heavy smoker, but I remember he liked to smoke. Maybe from working so hard in restaurant he needed to relax. Could be that this was just something he carried over from China.
My brother and I are only 4 years apart in age, and we didn’t like that he smoked. One time during a road trip, we all stopped at a convenience store. There was a cigarette box key chain with a single cigarette poking out the box, and if you pressed it down, the voice box within the key chain would cough a few times followed by something against smoking. I thought it was a great key chain, but of course my dad couldn’t understand the message.
It’s tough trying to remember what kind of father you had when you were so little. I have many pictures of him and myself: birthday parties, dinners, him and my mom. I even have a family movie with him in it, however it’s scary to realize that these real events from the past cannot be found within my memory. I don’t remember whose birthday we are celebrating, but there is a cake in the photo. In another photo, he holds my arm to keep me balanced as I stand in a chair to get in the photo frame. We are all chiming our drinking glasses. Our home video shows us all enjoying a dim sum meal in Boston. Maybe as I continue with this blog, I will be able to recall more memories of my father.
Blind Eye Memoir 