A tribute to Dad

Today would have been my dad's 97th birthday, but you wouldn't have been able to tell. It's funny to say this, but he didn't look a day over 60. When you're in your 90s, being 60 is a compliment! Speaking of awesome Asian genes, have you seen Vera Wang lately?

What I remember about my dad was that his mind was sharp. He knew Obama was President, that the capital of Pennsylvania was Harrisburg (though he sometimes pronounced it Hershey Park), and that Ellen DeGeneres was gay. Seriously, the last one, how did he know that? He didn't understand English. Was it in some Chinese show or newspaper? But I digress...

I also remember that his body was strong. He climbed the 60-foot tree in our backyard with nothing but a belt securing him to the trunk, he built lots of things around the house using reclaimed wood (that's dazzle-talk for wood scraps), and he put new flooring down for the porch, kitchen, and basement (albeit cheap vinyl flooring).

Also, his sense of adventure unmatched. He'd take public transit to Chinatown jus 'cause (remember, he knew no English), he'd order coffee at Starbucks and pizza at Sbarro because those words sound the same in Chinese as they do in English (you know how some folks in the foodservice industry can be), so yes, not speaking English and ordering is adventurous!), and he'd drive us to every amusement park, beach, orchard, etc. every summer no matter how lost we'd get with mom as navigator. Just kidding, Mom, you tried your best! I'm a worse navigator because my left is Right and my right is Turn now!

Before he was hanging out a home, climbing trees and getting lost on public transportation, my dad was an ah-may-zing chef. No, I did not inherit nor learn any flavors from him (boo!). His way of making food was a little of this, a little of that, and however much you want of it. Um...huh? BUT, I did learn a lot about food prep and knife skills. I write that second set of skills with trepidation because they aren't that great. He could also do that thing with the wok where you hold it with only one hand and flip the contents around. Remember I said he was strong. I can't do that wok-flipping thing. I have no strength in my wrist or forearm. I try to transfer food from the wok to a plate using only one hand, and my wrist goes limp. I have to twist my whole upper body so that the food doesn't fall to the floor. I am quivering at the same time. That's why I am not a chef. BUT, I'd like to think that I'm an engineer because of my dad. He completed his handyman projects with no directions or special tools. He problem-solved. His projects weren't always pretty (or to code -- eek) but they worked, and isn't that what engineers do anyways? Just kidding. We engineer to code.

So I've already covered that I got my health from my dad. If I were a dude, I'd be glad to get my dad's style too because my dad was the original George Clooney -- he always took care in his appearance. My dad wasn't vain, but he was always dressed in a button-down, slacks, shoes, hat, and maybe a tie. His hair was always combed and slicked back. My dad did not like this 90s trend. Isn't he smashing...or is it dashing?

Also, check out the pictures of my mom. She was, indeed, hot milk. Wish.I.still.had.that.sweater.

My dad was also passionate. He especially despised the spokesperson for Liberty Medical. Something about that guy's tone of voice conjured up annoying and lazy in my dad's mind.

[Source: Wilford Brimley Fan Page] [Source: Branding Advice]

My dad despised that guy so much that we'd have to change the channel whenever that guy came on. And he came on all the time on weekday mornings. It was kinda hilarious to watch my dad get all worked up about that guy. He also passionately despised the movie Clueless and the aforementioned 90s trend. Oh, and senseless gun shooting in movies. Yea, I don't like that either.

Lastly, my dad was passionate about plants, especially orchids, even if he didn't have the greenest of thumbs. My sister remembers the stories about his orchids the best. She told me that during an auction of orchids at church raising money for missions, my dad had to have an orchid. I think he paid $50 for one. He brought it home, and of course, watered it everyday. The orchid didn't survive. My dad was so sad.

So, for Christmas, my sister brought home a fake orchid. He watered that too! LOL. The next time she went home, my dad asked her to take him to Michaels. When they get there, he asked her to buy him green paint. And when they get home, he proceeded to paint the stem of the fake orchid because it probably lost its coloring due to sun and overwatering. H.I.L.A.R.I.O.U.S.

Friends were so kind to bring orchids to my dad's memorial service a year ago. My mom, sister, and I all kept one. Here they are blooming again after a year. I wasn't able to photograph my sister's orchid. Hope they'll bloom year after year and remind us of him and of his love, sacrifice, and dedication to his family. He wasn't perfect, but he was the perfect dad.

I feel like we should go out and eat his favorite meal today -- Chinese buffet. 

Love you and miss you, Dad!

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