Monday, September 13, 2010

Thank you, Father!

Before I start talking about my life in Senior High School, I need to use this blog space here to thank my father especially and say it formally in Chinese: "Father, Thank You!" ("爸爸,谢谢你")This simple phrase was not easy for a Chinese of my generation to say. This sounds very strange to my wife, Janice. She was brought up very differently. Phrases such as "Thank you", and "I love you" are commonly used day in and day out in her family. In China, we do often say "thank you" to strangers, bur very seldom to a very close family member, as Chinese consider that is part of the intimate relationship. When it comes to use the phrase "I love you", I do not remember saying that to anyone, including my parents, before I was twenty six!

As I told you before, because Banqiao Junior High School is outside of Taipei city, travel time back and forth was the extra burden. From Water Source Place (my station) to Banqiao would take about one hour each way. Mother was used to enjoying her morning sleep; she never got up before I started to get ready for school. It was my Father everyday in those three years who got up to cook breakfast and prepare a lunch box for me before 7am. We said very little to each other in the morning. Usually while I ate my breakfast, he was stuffing rice and putting pieces of meat or vegetables into the box. As soon as I finished my breakfast, I would pack the lunch box into my bag with my books and notes and then rush out of the door from our house before 7am. The train arrived at the Water Source Station at 7:10 am promptly. That was the way we started the day every day, six days a week, which made more than 200 days a year for three years. I have never said "thank you" directly to my father for his contribution to my education. It is time now! The following picture was taken at approximately this time, he was in his late forties.

Thank you, Father!

1 comment:

  1. Tom:

    Your writing brought tears to my eyes. I am very proud of you. I am still learning the meaning of love after all these years. I only started to appreciate what does "the labor of love" mean after I was far into my adulthood. Our Father made the lunch box for me throughout the years of my junior high and high school too. He was already 48 when I was born. I remember that he started to have back aches when he was 52, because he asked me to pound his back from time to time. I also remember that he had said that he was tired. But he worked till he was 70, when I graduated from college, before he retire. That was 18 years that he probably wished that he could have less responsibility and retire earlier. I owe him a lot, and I would like to say Thank you too to him.