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Posts Tagged ‘Dad’

Ends, beginnings, and halfway marks

December 15th, 2010

It would be a big white elephant in the room if I began posting again without addressing why I fell off the face of this blog. So while it means breaking a couple of my self-imposed rules, I’m going to blather on for longer than usual AND I’m going to delve deeper than my typical inane banter.

As some of you know, my Dad was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer in mid-2009. He took a sudden turn for the worst this September, and he passed away in early October.

Although I had plenty of time to prepare for it, the loss of my Dad was truly overwhelming. He was one of my favourite people in the world, simple as that. The above photos of us together are particularly close to my heart; one of us when I was a wee thing, and one of our many hamming-it-up moments (to clarify, we are hovering over piles of donkey poop while on a family trip to Santorini).

I know we’re lucky to have had him in our lives as long as we did and also that we got to say everything we wanted to each other. I feel guilty wishing for more time with him when I know too many people who’ve endured much younger or more sudden losses… but I wish it anyway. I can’t begin to imagine how all-consuming the loss must feel to our Mum, having lost her partner of almost 50 years.

A week after my Dad passed away, John and I took possession of our new (-to-us) house. The following four days were the visitation, the funeral, the cremation, and the interment.

At the end of October, we moved into our new digs. I’ve definitely fallen in love with the place and have never felt so at home. There’ll probably be unpacked boxes around for a few months… but there’s already so much pride and happiness steeped into this place.

And wouldn’t you know it, just for good measure, there was one more thing going on. Throughout all this, I was in my first trimester, and feeling consistently like a useless pile of nauseous crap. I packed a few boxes, unpacked a few… but I didn’t lift a thing. Other than one day when we had a whack of friends help us move the big furniture, John single-handedly moved us out of the apartment AND cleaned it from floor-to-ceiling.

Yesterday was the halfway mark of the pregnancy — I’m at 20 weeks now. John came with me to a prenatal appointment, and we got to hear the 150-bpm ‘whirr-whirr-whirr’ of the baby’s heartbeat. It’s the most surreal, beautiful sound.

I am soaked in luck, I know it.

The loss of my Dad only feels so huge because he was such a terrific father, and he continues to inspire me to be as good a person as possible. He knew about the house, but it makes me sad that he never got to see the place in person. We also made the decision to tell my family about the baby when I was only 6 weeks along — one piece of good news when all my Dad was getting at the time was bad — so again, I’m really glad he knew, but I will have a tough time getting past the fact that he missed out on being a grandfather by just a few short months.

We are going to look back at October 2010 and wonder how we managed to make it through without imploding. One thing I learned in the process is that, in grief, I tend towards introversion… to hermit-like proportions. While there’s obviously still lingering bittersweetness and sadness, things are levelling out now.

Before you know it, I’ll be back with the everyday anecdotal banter that you’re used to. In the meantime, thanks for bearing with this novel :)

general rambling, good peeps , ,

What’s next — matching jogging suits?

January 12th, 2010

I’ve been on a knitting kick lately, which began in December. I had numerous balls of blue yarn — I seem to remember someone giving it to me way back when I was on a similar kick years ago. I pulled it out over the holidays and started going to town. The extent of my knitting prowess till know has been: rectangles! So till recently, I’ve only ever made scarves. I started with a scarf. Then I tried a hat.

On Christmas day, I was getting close to finishing up the hat while at a family ‘do, and my Dad asked if I thought the hat would fit him. Still unfinished and on the needles, he tried it on and liked it, so I asked him if he wanted it. He did. In fact, he jumped up and grabbed one of the balls of the blue stuff, and with the help of my crafty Aunt, he made a pom-pom. I closed off the top of the hat, added the pom-pom, and when another relative asked him about the hat, he said very proudly “Emily and I made this together.” [If you knew my Dad, you'd know how cute this is.]

After this, I started a new toque for me. The photo above is my Dad and me, wearing our matching hats (and my scarf that started things off). My hat is more of a slouchy design… but the more I look at my Dad’s, the more tempted I am to stick a damn pom-pom at the end of it!

Whattaya think?

general rambling , ,

What’s in a name (part II)? Lots if your name is Bon Jovi…

March 15th, 2009

Earlier this month, it was Jon Bon Jovi’s birthday… when I heard this, I had a little chuckle, which is what I do every time I think of Jon Bon Jovi. See, the first time (and every time since) my Dad heard the name “Bon Jovi”, he had a pretty huge laugh… and pointed out that it sounded like a term that we pronounce in Taiwanese (and I’m sorry I can’t do the intonations here) “BUNG-jo bee”, which translates to English as — are you ready? — the “stench of urine”.

Another name my Dad has a ton of fun with is game show host, Pat Sajak. In Taiwanese, “Pah SAY-jah” (with the correct tones) means “Smack the little bugger”.

Maybe Taiwanese and English are more alike than you’d think, hey?

(Part I of ‘What’s in a name?’ is here)

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