Father’s Day

By: epluribusgeenum

Jun 23 2009

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Category: Things that keep my blood warm

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I gave my dad a Father’s Day card written in rainbow-colored Laotian characters.  The first thing he said? 

“Awww, that looks good!  Your characters look like third-grade level!”

Thanks, Dad?

We visited my grandpa’s grave.  I think everytime I’ve been in Dallas this past year I’ve gone there.  It’s a welcome repose and always makes me feel at peace, even with the sweat dripping from my forehead and the itchiness of the grass… the sweet, thick St. Augustine grass.  The upkeep there is impeccable!  There are fountains and cute little bridges over quietly rambling creeks with these colossal goldfish, and of course there’s flowers everywhere.  If it weren’t a graveyard it would be a nice place for a date.  Hmm.  Even I’m weirded out by what I just said. 

Anyway.  I am lucky to have an amazing dad who breaks his back working for his family, freaking wrecks at billiards, has scary guns (of the non-violent forearm variety) to scare away evil-doers, sports Laotian street-gang tattoos, looks like a monk, always gives us the last piece of cake/sip of coke/wad of rice/etc., fixes my car and is damn good at it, and loves me for who I am. 

And I’m fortunate to have had a grandpa who taught me how to turn the other cheek, how to calm my temper, how to love the earth, how recycling can be fun (can-stomping!! it’s a good release), that curse words even in Laotian are unbecoming, who got crunk on the pan flute, who would pick me up everyday from school on his bicycle when he was in his seventies, who knew how to deal with my attention span, who was and is my hero, and who blinked in cute photos with my grandma. 

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