OPINION
Page 6 n THE ASIAN REPORTER
February 4, 2019
Volume 29 Number 3
February 4, 2019
ISSN: 1094-9453
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MY TURN
n Wayne Chan
Dramatic reading
of an uneventful life
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A
nother year is in the books. It’s my 21st year
of being a parent. I’m still not sure how good
I am at this whole “dad” thing.
The problem is, I know how I feel about my
parents. I miss them every single day. I miss my
dad’s goofy jokes. I miss how my mom would remind
me to wear a jacket in 83º weather. I miss how they
made me feel, no matter what was happening in our
lives. I always felt secure. My parents were always
there. They always kept me safe.
I had, I must admit, an idyllic childhood. I
experienced the same issues of any other
middle-class teenager, which was really peanuts
compared to what both my parents endured
growing up.
Individually, both my mom and dad escaped from
China when the Japanese invaded during World
War II. As a boy, my father witnessed countless
tragedies during the war — killings, betrayals, you
name it. He survived it and became a decent and
honorable man, and a successful businessman to
boot. Same with mom. She escaped to Taiwan with
her family, came to the U.S., and ended up
managing the library of a major university.
I didn’t really get to hear many stories of my
parent’s struggle. My father was hesitant to talk
about it, but when he did, he didn’t have to make his
memories seem larger than life. When a story starts
with, “I could see some of the Japanese soldiers
carrying bayonets,” it’s about as much drama that’s
needed.
Having grown up hearing some of these stories, it
taught me the value of perseverance. If my parents
could make it through such a chaotic childhood,
what excuse did I have? The least I could do is work
hard, give my best, and set an example for my kids.
I really feel I should do more than just set a good
example for my kids, though. I’d love to share some
incredibly traumatic life story with my children
that keeps them on the straight and narrow. And if I
don’t have a ready-made story to do that, I
suppose I just have to overhype some of the
problems I did face.
Let’s see.
Son, I remember it like it was yesterday. It was
dark, rainy, and cold. It seemed far more frigid than
the 67º I saw on my iPhone’s weather app. The
thought kept running through my mind — get home,
you just need to make it home. I longed for the
warmth and security of my wife’s tender embrace.
Would I make it home that night? I tried my best to
steer clear of any negative thoughts. Stay strong.
The problem was that I had left my keys in the
car, and even though I had my phone, I didn’t want
to call the Auto Club because I’d forgotten to pay my
membership dues the week before.
I looked around frantically, hoping to spot a police
officer, anyone who could help, but all I saw were
parking lot attendants, and they were busy directing
cars out of the parkade after the Neil Diamond
concert. If I’d left the concert just a few minutes early,
maybe before Neil finished singing his encore of
“Forever in Blue Jeans,” perhaps I could have
caught someone’s attention to get help. Maybe. Just
maybe. Right at that moment — maybe was a lonely
word.
What do you mean my story is ridiculous?!? Fine.
I have a better story with boatloads of drama. I once
spilled a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken as I was
handing it over to my dad.
You may not think that’s very dramatic either,
but you don’t know how much my dad loved KFC.
Opinions expressed in this newspaper are those of the authors and not necessarily those of this publication.
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