Then and Now Michelle Lee | Guest Writer
| Published 12/12/03
Graphic By: Jonelle Thackston
The classical hero rides on a white horse and
always arrives just in the nick of time to save you, no matter what
predicament you got yourself into. On the other hand, my hero came in a
military hummer with his face covered in army paint looking rough like
he just got back from WWII, and I couldn't have asked for anyone better
My dad is my superman and my guiding light. I genuinely believe that my
father can do everything and anything. It's just a shame that it took
me 18 realize how truly special our relationship is.
I love everything about my dad. I love the strict military tone he has
even when he's saying something sweet like "I miss you" or "I love you."
He always looked as if he was in a rush, because he always takes short
quick breaths like he was running. He is very well organized almost to a
point where it's scary; in fact, he reminds me of Monica from "Friends."
When he smiles, you can't help but to smile with him. He's my dad, and
I love him so much.
When I was young, my dad was in the military and was stationed in Korea,
and I barely got to see him. My mother was always home watching my two
brothers and me. She just seemed so occupied with her friends and
tutoring the Korean children in the area.
I remember waiting for my dad. I would wait all day and sometimes nights
just to tell him about my day. Considering I was 6, not much happened in
my day. It seemed like he paused life just to listen to every word I
said, from the cookies I ate to which boys I didn't like. His presence
drew me in like a magnet, his warm greetings and tender words made my
waits worthwhile. Everyday he made me feel so warm and special, like I
just won a gold metal in the Olympics.
Grocery shopping is a weekly ritual in the Lee household, but my mother
would never let me get any type of ice cream, Lunch-able or even a
simple cookie. My mom was all about tofu, fruits and Nutra-grain bars. I
would beg and beg for just a taste of something I could pronounce,
something without the word soy in it. My mom, being the dominate parent,
consistently said "No!" in her stern comical Asian voice; there was no
way I was going to argue with her.
To my surprise, every week my dad would sneak a package of chocolate
chip cookies or a package of M&Ms in my room under my pillow. I realize
now how a simple gesture as placing a cookie under my pillow made my day
totally different.
Growing up was hard on both me and my dad. As I got older, our
relationship did not deteriorate nor did it flourish. I would push my
dad away when he tried talking to me. Sometimes we would go for days
with only saying "hi" and "bye," but he would still try his best to make
some kind of contact with me.
There were times sporadically during the day my dad would poke me. I
never understood why. Maybe it was his way of making me notice his
presence and his way of saying "I'm here." He poked me in an amusing
way, and he knew the exact times where it really got to me.
Dating was a topic my parents never wanted to discuss, but my mom being
the strict, controlling woman made my dad talk with me. I still remember
his tone of voice and how he kept bouncing his knee up and down, and the
word "umm" suddenly became his favorite word. My dad, being in the
military for 23 years, was not a man with a loss of words, but that day
was his first.
As I stood there with my boyfriend I felt an urge to run up to him and
give him a hug, just to assure him that he brought me up right and for
him not to worry. I always knew what my dad wanted to say to me before
he said a word just by his facial expressions. From his mad face to his
disappointed face, I could always point out the difference.
Now I'm lucky to even get a smile out of him. As soon as I turned 18, it
was like he was upset with me. The poking stopped, the silly jokes
stopped, just his snoopy-self went away the minute I blew out my
candles. It was a blue time for me. It seemed like my childhood flashed
before my eyes, and I didn't even get to sit and enjoy it. As this
summer passed, I realized I got to live with it. As my dad says, "You're
rich if you have money, but you're wealthy when you have time." The
hundreds of stories I have with my dad maybe pointless to others, but
they make me feel exceedingly wealthy.
Reality sunk in within the first three days of college. I really missed
my dad. I realized how much I've grown up and that I completely lost my
childhood. The first week away I called my dad, and he told me he got my
card. Finally I remembered writing a card to my dad telling him how much
I appreciated him and that I loved him. I stuck the card under his
pillow with his favorite chocolate.
The front of the card had a dog with a happy face waving, and the
caption said, "I hate saying good-bye, so let's just say see you later."
Inside the card was the same dog with an upset face, and the caption
said "Now I don't like see you later."
I could really tell that my dad appreciated the gesture. I told him now
that I'm a "woman" we can start being friends. He agreed and laughed
with his old man chuckle. My childhood maybe gone, but college years are
yet to come. My dad will always have a place inside of me. From my
slanted eyes to my unique chuckle, I inherited all his qualities, and I
couldn't be happier.
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