Hand

Aunt, uncle, parents, and I crammed around the small round table in the nook for dinner. We had our home cooked meal and wine. Wine or any kind of alcohol is rare in the Chen household if you can believe it, but tonight was different, we celebrated the good news on mom's lab results. According to the blood tests and doctors' diagnoses, our worries about mom's health were unwarranted.

After a delicious home cooked meal, Dad and I took a walk in the dimly lit courtyard by our house. I often walked with dad with his arm in mine but as we walked up the stairs, I took his hand instead. This was the first time since I was a little girl that I held his hand, it must have been more than 20 years... It was awkward in the beginning and we both tried to make small talk trying to ignore the the hand-holding situation but we got used to it less than 10 meters into our walk. Our palms were interlocked while we strolled down the courtyard, we swung our hands gently to match our steps. I thought of thousands of questions that I want to ask Dad... Questions that are personal like "do you have a satisfying life?", "how do you really feel about your past?", "do you have any life lessons that you want to share with me?", "do you miss not having us around for almost 20 years of your life?" Dad and I never discuss anything of this sort, we talked about things on the surface, not our feelings, not our lives, not our struggles in life... Then dad said, "I am glad that your mom's lab results showed nothing serious, she's not like me, I have gone through all those surgeries and fought for my life, but she's not that type..." I nodded in agreement and we walked a little bit more, I sought out the opportunity and asked "Dad, in those moments of life when you feel like you have failed in health or in your career, what drives you to fight? What motivate you to stand up and go on? Aren't you ever scared?" We turned the corner in the courtyard and dad said, "of course I was scared and very afraid, you take calculated risk but things don't always turn out. You just have to march on! I was always very very scared" As I listened to him, a guest of his walked towards us. I interrupted dad by shaking his hand and pointing our hands to the direction of the guest. It took dad a second to see the guest in the dark then dad greeted him.

Tonight, I wasn't resentful that dad's friend or business partner once again took precedent over our conversation like how I have always felt and reacted in the past. I was happy that I got to share that short moment with dad but sad that I waited so long to walk with him like this... This could have been happening all these years but I was too busy, too afraid, or too proud to generate these magical moments just by holding his hand.

Dad and I walked home hand-in-hand with his friend following beside us. I left them in the living room and went up to the guest bedroom.

Dad has aged but his hand is still soft, bony, and a little stiff...

I sobbed in the guest bedroom wishing and hoping that there are a lot more of these moments to come.