after going to see Sherlock Holmes with dad, we were left to our own device for dinner since mom had dinner plans with her friend... so we went to a pho place in chinatown, one of the few places in the city that's opened ON Christmas day..
over a hot soup noodle and spring rolls, dad told me stories of his past, how he and mom met, etc etc.
i've always known i got kindness from my dad. i have no idea where he got it. i also got my go-to and stubborn-ness and can-do attitude from my mom. her wild stories of trekking mountains with her girl friend and then both of them swimming (with a lifesaver each attached to each other by a rope) - and then subsequently landing in HK and going to the police station where after the paperwork was done, the policeman took them to dimsum.
but dad told his story, of not being able to walk, one of his knees was engorged swollen infected, and he couldn't walk for 3 years, when he was about 6-7. he said it was probably falling out of a tree of some such kid playtime thing that happened... and grandma carried him a lot back then, and tried to go to all the special magical doctors or whatever miraculous healer around.
then finally, one day, grandma knew a male nurse who worked at the army hospital, and they went to see him to see if he has alternative healing methods. while he was there he saw all the french soldiers laying there, some with 1 leg, both legs, or no legs, arms and legs bandaged and dangling from the ceiling with bandages... and it scared the life out of him. he thought he HAS to do better than not walking, he can't live the rest of his life like that.
his jeans were always patched and repatched because he was just dragging himself on the ground to get around. so he made up his mind and taught himself, using small stools around the house to lean and edge by... combined with all kinds of magical herbs grandma would make in the form of chinese medicial soup...
dad also mentioned what he did when he was young, he started at Fu-Lai-Wai hotel, being the VIP server of food, then he asked to be moved to handle luggage, because there could be tips. he didn't speak english but the manager was nice and gave him a list of a few often-used phrases to memorize and mentioned that he'll ask him these in an hour when people come into work. then instead of promoting to 'room boy' which cleans and vaccum the rooms, he wanted to be promoted to downstairs where they had inventory and purchasing, he figured it was a desk job of some kind.
he then asked to work at the Fu-Lai-Wai restaurant at the airport because he could drive the car (but he got less shared bonus at end of year)...
then there were refridgerator repairmen who hangs out at the airport, and they mentioned in the dept store in kowloon there were a few hot girls, so they all went there to check it out (one of the guys used to work there so there was an excuse).
my mom was a sales for the clothes, she wore a uniform to work...
my dad was chasing after her like mad, using his fancy expensive camera and took pictures of her, with her. the pictures turned out so nice all her female friends at work also wanted pictures taken of them too!
and dad said mom lied and said she was from Indonesia when they first met!
and also that mom, auntie, my uncle in china, the 2 uncles in HK, and the aunt that i never got to know (both her and her daughter suicided) all had different fathers and that it's embarassing for my mom at times like family get togethers (like the one in Jan for the uncle in china's son's wedding).
good stories, i just wanted to get the gist of it down before i forget :)
while i was at the Christmas Eve mass in Notre Dame Basilica, during communion, i prayed.
granted i'm not the most religious person in the world. i'm more spiritual, and believe that religions gear people towards being good people, in different ways, tones, methods, shapes.
anyways i really got to praying, and one of the main thread in my prayer was 'kindness'. it struck me how much i mean it, how much i want to continue to remember it in my everyday life. how connected i was to that word and idea. after seeing Toula's sanskrit tattoo on the inside of her wrist, i was inspired to find my own meaning to mark forever. it's divided between my chinese name which is 如 and is part of the words that means "if", which i've grown to love. it symbolizes imagination and possibilities, chances and opportunities.
but sanskrit script is so beautiful visually, and since the prayer, i've been struck by the idea of kindness. so this is tempting as well "Mettā (Pāli: मेत्ता)" which i don't know if it's sanskrit or buddhist.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mett%C4%81
to devirginize this new blog, i'm going to say that i'm good with starting new blogs and then i don't continue. i guess this will be a 2010 goal, to upkeep 1 blog as things happen, jot things down, muse about life, and in general document the more interesting threads of thoughts that might appear...