Friday, December 25, 2015
12/25/2015
We had dinner at Tailo's home. We were with dad just last year. I miss dad. It is not the same without him.
Monday, December 21, 2015
12/21/2015
It has been 2 months. It seems like a long time since he is gone.
I sometimes reach into my wound to feel the pain, just to make sure that he is not forgotten. Just to make sure that he is still in my heart.
It is like picking at a scab.
I think about the hospital visits. I looked at his video, to listen to his voice, to see him move.
I think about the time going forward without him. I think about all the things that we could do.
I miss him. I have to make sure that I still feel the pain. It is only 2 months, but it seems so long ago. Time seems stretched here.
I wish he is here.
I sometimes reach into my wound to feel the pain, just to make sure that he is not forgotten. Just to make sure that he is still in my heart.
It is like picking at a scab.
I think about the hospital visits. I looked at his video, to listen to his voice, to see him move.
I think about the time going forward without him. I think about all the things that we could do.
I miss him. I have to make sure that I still feel the pain. It is only 2 months, but it seems so long ago. Time seems stretched here.
I wish he is here.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
12/01/2015
I miss my dad today.
I felt the emptiness he left. He is gone; only his ashes are left. That is very hard to realize.
It forces me to think about death; what it means to die. What happens when someone dies.
I thought about the funeral. I remember how my heart hurt when I first walked into the funeral home, seeing my dad's picture in the hall. It hit me right there that he was gone. That this was real. That he had died.
I remember seeing my dad's body behind the glass the first time. I cried right there, even now. He was so lonely behind the glass, lying there by himself. That he has died and will not wake and will not talk anymore.
I saw death. I remember the moment when his coffin was shut. I cried right there, even now. Because that was the last time I would ever see his face, that I would see him again. The very last moment. The next morning he would be cremated.
I think that when I feel the pain, I feel that I am not forgetting him. I feel that I am holding onto him through pain.
I don't ever want to forget my dad. I want to hold onto whatever that I could.
Right now I only know how to through pain.
My heart hurts.
I felt the emptiness he left. He is gone; only his ashes are left. That is very hard to realize.
It forces me to think about death; what it means to die. What happens when someone dies.
I thought about the funeral. I remember how my heart hurt when I first walked into the funeral home, seeing my dad's picture in the hall. It hit me right there that he was gone. That this was real. That he had died.
I remember seeing my dad's body behind the glass the first time. I cried right there, even now. He was so lonely behind the glass, lying there by himself. That he has died and will not wake and will not talk anymore.
I saw death. I remember the moment when his coffin was shut. I cried right there, even now. Because that was the last time I would ever see his face, that I would see him again. The very last moment. The next morning he would be cremated.
I think that when I feel the pain, I feel that I am not forgetting him. I feel that I am holding onto him through pain.
I don't ever want to forget my dad. I want to hold onto whatever that I could.
Right now I only know how to through pain.
My heart hurts.
Saturday, November 21, 2015
11/21/2015
It has been a month since my dad's passing.
I felt that there is a hole.
Sometimes I wondered how exactly he died. It seems like his body just slowly shut down over a course of 20 days or so. This is how he died.
I don't cry as much now.
But there is still hidden sadness inside.
I felt that there is a hole.
Sometimes I wondered how exactly he died. It seems like his body just slowly shut down over a course of 20 days or so. This is how he died.
I don't cry as much now.
But there is still hidden sadness inside.
Saturday, November 14, 2015
His ashes
Tommy said that dad's ashes has returned today.
And today's was mom's birthday.
It is all so sad. A few years back, dad was healthy and now all that remained is his ashes. I miss him. There is a hole. I have lost my dad.
And today's was mom's birthday.
It is all so sad. A few years back, dad was healthy and now all that remained is his ashes. I miss him. There is a hole. I have lost my dad.
Thursday, November 12, 2015
My dad
I would like to write down the memories of my dad because I don't ever want to forget.
I find myself looking for his things, things that he had given me, or remembering things he had said. I don't want to forget his face or his voice.
My very first memory of my dad is when I was a baby and he lifted me up in the air. I was laughing. There is a photo of that moment. I don't know if I got that memory from that particular photo or if that was really what I remembered. But no matter, I have seen dad playing with Vincent just like that when he was a baby.
I remembered dad as adventurous. He once took me to a fruit vendor on the street and got us a watermelon juice (or carrot juice?). I think that was before a dinner banquet.
He also took me multiple times to eat snake soup. I love snake soup. I don't recall eating snake soup with mom, it was always just me and my dad.
My dad went on business trips quite often when I was little. He always brought me handkerchiefs when he got home. I was always so excited when he got home from his business trips because I know he always beared gifts for me. One time, he got me a mini mirror stand in red color from Japan. I really wish I could find that mirror stand again. I don't know where it is now.
When my mom was working for my aunt to deliver newspaper, sometimes my dad would take me to wait for mom's end of shift. He would first take me to ride the tram to the Victoria peak. I have saved all those ticket stubs, but again, I don't know where they are now. I really want to find those ticket stubs.
I remember my dad combing my hair and making my pony tail in the morning before school.
I remember my dad tugging me into my bed.
I remember my dad's hands were always dirty.
My dad loves family dinner together whenever he was here in the US. He always said "waiting for you for dinner".
My dad once told me that he loved me the most.
I remember him driving us to school in the van when it was raining.
I remember him teaching me how to ride a bike.
I remember riding in the back of my dad's motorcycle. I was so scared.
I don't think I ever see dad cooking at all or doing housework. He was such a traditional dad.
He was so worried about me when I was getting a divorce. They would call everyday to make sure that I was ok. And they came to the US very often.
My dad loved his work. He loved his children. He loved my mom. He loved to eat. He loved music.
I find myself looking for his things, things that he had given me, or remembering things he had said. I don't want to forget his face or his voice.
My very first memory of my dad is when I was a baby and he lifted me up in the air. I was laughing. There is a photo of that moment. I don't know if I got that memory from that particular photo or if that was really what I remembered. But no matter, I have seen dad playing with Vincent just like that when he was a baby.
I remembered dad as adventurous. He once took me to a fruit vendor on the street and got us a watermelon juice (or carrot juice?). I think that was before a dinner banquet.
He also took me multiple times to eat snake soup. I love snake soup. I don't recall eating snake soup with mom, it was always just me and my dad.
My dad went on business trips quite often when I was little. He always brought me handkerchiefs when he got home. I was always so excited when he got home from his business trips because I know he always beared gifts for me. One time, he got me a mini mirror stand in red color from Japan. I really wish I could find that mirror stand again. I don't know where it is now.
When my mom was working for my aunt to deliver newspaper, sometimes my dad would take me to wait for mom's end of shift. He would first take me to ride the tram to the Victoria peak. I have saved all those ticket stubs, but again, I don't know where they are now. I really want to find those ticket stubs.
I remember my dad combing my hair and making my pony tail in the morning before school.
I remember my dad tugging me into my bed.
I remember my dad's hands were always dirty.
My dad loves family dinner together whenever he was here in the US. He always said "waiting for you for dinner".
My dad once told me that he loved me the most.
I remember him driving us to school in the van when it was raining.
I remember him teaching me how to ride a bike.
I remember riding in the back of my dad's motorcycle. I was so scared.
I don't think I ever see dad cooking at all or doing housework. He was such a traditional dad.
He was so worried about me when I was getting a divorce. They would call everyday to make sure that I was ok. And they came to the US very often.
My dad loved his work. He loved his children. He loved my mom. He loved to eat. He loved music.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
10/20/2015
6:00 am.
My dad left us. I got Tommy's text when my alarm went off. Dad went on his own without additional help.
I called Tommy and he said that dad can still hear. So I told dad not to worry about me and Jimmy, and that we will take care of mom.
This has been a long battle with this disease. 3 years.
I will miss you, dad, and I love you. Thank you for giving me life and love.
Monday, October 19, 2015
10/19/2015
My dad is leaving us, leaving his body, his pain, his sickness.
How long has it been since he was diagnosed? Is it three years?
Life is unfair. He is a good dad, a good provider, and a workaholic.
I remembered him working a lot when I was little, well, we were constantly short of money. But we were well fed, maybe we didn't get all the toys that we wanted, we had a decent childhood.
Why do good people die in such horrific way? Slowly wasting away with a horrible disease that you cannot control, knowing that day is going to strike any day, knowing that you still have unfinished business, leaving your love ones behind.
How does it feel like to know that you are dying? Just snub out like a candle.
My dad is my creator; he gave me life and love.
I love my dad. I admire my dad.
He is very smart and hard-working, with so little education and so little to start with. He had a good life; he had accomplished a lot.
It feels like a really bad dream. I feel dazed.
How long has it been since he was diagnosed? Is it three years?
Life is unfair. He is a good dad, a good provider, and a workaholic.
I remembered him working a lot when I was little, well, we were constantly short of money. But we were well fed, maybe we didn't get all the toys that we wanted, we had a decent childhood.
Why do good people die in such horrific way? Slowly wasting away with a horrible disease that you cannot control, knowing that day is going to strike any day, knowing that you still have unfinished business, leaving your love ones behind.
How does it feel like to know that you are dying? Just snub out like a candle.
My dad is my creator; he gave me life and love.
I love my dad. I admire my dad.
He is very smart and hard-working, with so little education and so little to start with. He had a good life; he had accomplished a lot.
It feels like a really bad dream. I feel dazed.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
10/13/2015
He lied again. I feel so lonely and scared. The closet person in the whole world lied to me again and again. I feel so lonely. I don't understand why he kept lying to me. It is either that he doesn't know how much it hurts me or he simply doesn't care about me. Which is it? I didn't bring up divorce. This should not be a word used lightly. I kept it inside.
We have no children. I am not close to my brothers. My dad is dying. My mom is far away.
Is there no pure love out there except from my parents. There is simply no unconditional love other than from my parents.
When I die, I will die alone.
Will history repeat itself? Only time could tell. Is this a mistake? Did I love the wrong person?
I never lie to him, but yet he lies to me many many times. Why? How could you lie to the closet person in the whole world? Unless I am not his closet person in the whole world.
Every time he lies, we step back a few squares, chipping away the trust I just barely rebuilt.
I feel so lonely... I cannot even trust the only person.
We have no children. I am not close to my brothers. My dad is dying. My mom is far away.
Is there no pure love out there except from my parents. There is simply no unconditional love other than from my parents.
When I die, I will die alone.
Will history repeat itself? Only time could tell. Is this a mistake? Did I love the wrong person?
I never lie to him, but yet he lies to me many many times. Why? How could you lie to the closet person in the whole world? Unless I am not his closet person in the whole world.
Every time he lies, we step back a few squares, chipping away the trust I just barely rebuilt.
I feel so lonely... I cannot even trust the only person.
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