19 February 2013
Letter No. 14
We know Dad for his sense of humor and his mechanical knowhow, but he's stoic when it comes to pretty much everything else. The e-mails he's sent in preparation for and during this trip to the US offer strange but welcome glimmers of his head. I take note of what he notices; it allows me to imagine what he might be thinking or feeling. I can't help feeling a little sad myself. There's something haiku-like about his plain sentences, but that might just be a little undercurrent of melancholy.
Dad notices that his brother's voice sounds hoarse.
Dad says it's awkward to discuss his brother's funeral arrangements with said brother, my Tito Bo.
Dad says he's glad he'll get to see Mon in the school play before he flies to the US but will miss out on seeing Mon get ready for junior prom.
Dad gets to drive around the California town where we lived, and he recognizes places where he took Mikko and me when we were small.
"Those were fun times, looking back."
Dad says his goal is to bond with KB (Tito Bo).
Dad tells us what the collar of his jacket smells like now.
Dad describes playing with Ethan, Tito Bo's first grandchild.
Dad describes the cold in Chicago.
Dad goes out to get some pho with Tito Bo and Tito Vic. They stop at an auto supply store, and Dad experiences falling snow for the first time.
I feel that a personal update to this blog is overdue, but given everything that people around me are going through, it also feels inappropriate or insensitive to panic some more about not having kids or muse about my future in general. The impulse to do either has subsided since other people's concerns have come up.
I like this little thing on Thought Catalog, though, about what happens when you're 26. I found myself nodding at the last three things in particular.
My brothers are really cool people, and I feel regret every time Mikko brings up something I did or said when I was petty or pa-cool. There are certain people I haven't stayed friends with, and I don't regret that at all. And while it exerts a weird kind of pressure, the increase in engagements, weddings, children, job changes, and other life changes among the people I once went to school with just helps to sharpen my own perspective on where I'm going.
Mostly, though, right now, I miss my dad.