peitience is a virtue

莊志純 (spoken in Mandarin), 志純 (spoken in Taiwanese),  Chih-Shun, Jerry, Daddy. It doesn’t matter what we call him- he is equally loved by all of us. Well, except for my sister because she claims she loves him the most. I would actually like to say I probably love him the most, but I know better than to argue with my baby sister. 

My dad was a great man, and I am sad to say that I had only started realizing just how great, a few years ago. I regret not learning about his life story until this past winter. From his childhood in Chiayi where he was first exposed to American culture via U.S. propaganda magazines, to his years in Chicago where he got his first car and paid visits to his patients at their homes. I regret not spending more time with him before I left for college just to I don’t know…hang out? I regret not sacrificing sleeping in on Sundays to go with him to his beloved flea market to see and understand why he liked to go. My dad once told me that he went for the people. He said he met all different kinds of people from all walks of life there. 

He loved people. He was a social butterfly and would talk to anyone. Honestly, I don’t think he judged anyone until he really got to know someone. And even then, I don’t think he ever truly hated anybody. If I could learn only one thing from my dad, it would be to be kind to everyone. My sister and I are surrounded by amazing family, blood related and not, and friends only because our dad was so loved by everyone. Boy, it was hilarious when my sister and I realized we’re only popular because our dad was popular! 

I remember thinking my dad was strict, impatient, and stubborn until I went to shadow him at work one summer in high school. His compassion and patience when working with his patients was incredible. Though, I must admit my dad was still stubborn, it turned out to be not so bad. He didn’t let his patients off easy and pushed them to complete their physical therapy. My dad flourished in any social situation. I realized that my dad was the class clown. At work he was nicknamed “The Cookie Monster” because he liked eating cookies and donuts, and always had a few stowed away in his desk drawer. He was a humorous guy. Even in the most serious of situations he couldn’t resist cracking a joke. Once the doctor said he needed to do some cultures, and my dad responded enthusiastically with “yes, lots of cultures because I am not cultured enough!” At Chinese School reunions, it was always his laughter that rang through the house. 

I miss him. I really really do. I miss his love, care and attention to detail. My dad used to make a huge hot breakfast for my sister and I before he left for the flea market on Sundays. He knew my sister liked her eggs runny, and mine fully cooked. He would make congee for me when I was sick. He knew I didn’t like mushrooms so would make a portion of a dish without mushrooms- just for me. He was more concerned about if I was eating well in college, than about my grades. I even miss him making me the butt of his jokes and having me tell embarrassing stories about myself for everyone to hear at the Chinese School speech contests. 

My dad was incredibly gifted. In writing, drawing, cooking, and sewing. Yes, sewing. Just the other night I was telling some of the mothers a story to vouch for my dad’s superb sewing skills. It was the night of my high school prom and the zipper on my dress just wouldn’t zip! I was getting so frustrated and running late, but my dad came to my rescue. He literally sewed me into my dress! I danced the night away and the stitches never broke. Amazing. 

My dad was strong, both physically and mentally. He was a fighter. You don’t get through 17 cycles of chemotherapy and two weeks of radiation without extreme willpower and perseverance. He always mumbled “oh miserable me,” but he never verbalized more than that. He always apologized for letting out sounds of pain, but I didn’t accept those apologies. He should not have apologized for something that was out of his control. Sometimes when the pain was so great he would just blurt out, “now I know why people give up,” but he never gave up. 

May he rest, finally, in peace.