Emo Attic

Why My Dad Is Awesome

It’s the second Sunday of November, and in Finland (and Estonia, Iceland, Norway and Sweden) we are celebrating Father’s Day. I have no idea why the world can’t just decide on one date cos it gets confusing sometimes. Anyways, in celebration of Father’s Day, here’s some little stories I have to tell about my dad which helps explains why he’s pretty awesome.

Although I’m not one of those girls who admire their dads like superheroes who could do no wrong, I know my dad to be just a man. A hard-working one, with sometimes quick temper but doesn’t like confrontation, actually I’m a lot like my dad. He might be as strict and offensive in the typical Asian style, but he likes to play good cop too so he never confronts me about them and I love him for that. He has a big and easy smile and little kids love him. Sometimes he can be very stubborn and prone to get addicted to things like cigarettes and the Chinese version of whatsapp.

When I was a little kid, like 3 or 4 years old, not to brag but I was freaking cute. With a huge head and lots of hair, I look like a doll. My mom would take me with her to the place she used to work, and all her colleagues would play with me too. And it’s not unusual that they take me to a candy store to treats for me. But I would always choose salted prunes, which was a surprising and weird choice for a little kid. I chose them because my dad likes them. Guess I was a little bit of a daddy’s girl back in the days.

The year was 2002 and it was summer. My dad is a huge football fan, and I was kinda force to watch the World Cup that year too. But that year I fell in love with football, because it almost looked like magic how good football players can be. And up until then I had basically nothing in common with my dad, or maybe action movies. But I could tell how happy my dad was, that there is finally one thing that we are both passionate about.

Fast-forward some years, I broke up with my first serious boyfriend. I asked my dad to come pick me up in the morning plus the rest of my stuff. He didn’t ask what was going on, he did not push me for the answer, and he did not make a scene with my ex-boyfriend when he came to help me move stuff into his car. On the short ride home, he just chatted about normal stuff. I don’t think I’ve ever told him just how grateful I was of that little window of normalness before getting home and my mom pounced on me.

One little story more. I was born in the 80s. Even nowadays, there are Chinese out there who would have been so disappointed to get a daughter instead of a son. It’s even stronger in the 80s. My mom told me this story. She was of course worried that my dad wouldn’t love a daughter as much, but when I was born, my mom’s worries faded away. She told me that my dad adored me right from the beginning. Still in the hospital, some shady cleaning lady came in and asked my parents whether they want to trade for a male baby, that with a proper amount of money the cleaning lady could make a switch in the nursery at the hospital. I know, shady as fuck. But even before my mom could yell at her to get the fuck out, my dad just said that ‘nope, I’m pretty content with a daughter’. The cleaning lady called my dad a fool, my mom told me that my dad just smiled his silly smile. Nothing could have taken his happiness away on the day I was born.

So my dad is not the kind to show affection with hugs and such. But he shows it by making my favorite dishes, he shows it by always coming to pick me up when I needed it, he shows it by caring but not judging my sometimes hard-to-understand choices in life. I know deep down, he wants me to get married and have kids just as bad as mom wants it, but he never says it out loud. He loves me by letting me breath, and letting me feel like I’m an adult and that I can make my own decisions. And that’s why my dad is awesome.

Happy Father’s Day, dad. I hope you know that I love you.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s