The Cost of Formalities

 Went to a memorial service today of a 95 year old sister that went to be with the Lord earlier this month.  We didn’t get an official invitation, just an FYI from PAL.. so there was no formal direction on flowers or donations or what not.  I didn’t even realize it until I drove by the Cemetery. Luckily (luck?), there was a Target across the street.  (Side note: I hate how Targets place their things differently from store to store!!)  And where most Targets will have 10-12 selections of Sympathy cards, this place had easily 4-5 dozens!! That’s over 60 selections.  You curtail your store to your audience, I guess. 

I went through all the cards, of course, going through the religious one first.  And regardless of theme or message… there was one universal constant.  They all cost at least $5. 

Now call me the materialistic a-hole… but I’m gonna spend $5 on a card, for a person I barely know, giving to a family that I definitely don’t know, that's probably gonna end up in a recycle bin anyways.  And I was so unprepared, I didn’t know what to do but slip in whatever cash I had on me… a $20.  (Note to self: Gotta reload that $20). The thought did cross my mind that I could get a Target gift card.  Too tacky??? Iono… maybe any other Target, except this store. 

I could’ve slipped in and slipped out (Like the Pier 39 Magic Show) and not pay… and no one will be of the smarter. Whatever… this is the price you pay for the Cost of Formalities.

Mood: Formal

問誰領豐收

Had a chance to go 1 on 1 with a colleague who just became a manager.  He use to work for me when I first became a technical lead about 10 years ago. I didn't know what the meeting was about so when he point blank asked for some advice, I was at a lost for words. I started rambling until I pulled out my Sunday School lessons on Leadership - "問誰領豐收".  I went over the importance of leading with a vision... the art of decision making... not being afraid of making mistakes... and because it was a Sunday School lesson... I even slipped in, "Leaders need to PRAY" and "Leaders need to LOVE."  Not something you normally get to share in a work environment.  Praise God for the opportunity.

Then as we were about to end... he says, "I do have one more question... Back when I came onto your team... I remember that you were very energetic, funny and humorous.  Are you still the same way?  How has that worked out for you?"

I was a little shocked... that something I so long ago still has a lasting impact.  So I answered, "Yes... I'm still the same way." To which I wrapped up my entire schipel to two points of advice...

1) You have to be yourself
2) Be consistent

Whether you're funny, serious, slow to praise, quick to correct... and whatever you do... be CONSISTENT.  Be it for work, for home, for parenting.. wherever you go in life.

(Hmm... I might start creating a little series here on "Leadership.")

Mood: elevated

破•天•荒

Broke new ground... paved new paths... conquered new mountains tonight.

I don't even remember the last time Joyce went... let alone having her play the piano while I led... Prayer Meeting.  So different to have that extra 5 - 10 minutes of going through the rundown and practicing.  Will have to go back to the pre-Nn days when we led worship once with Joseph fellowship.  Or that one Christmas Sunday when I led worship (no guitar) and she was the pianist.

The thought of being able to serve on a worship team together. Wow... that's almost unfathomable.  I love my wife ohhhh soooo much.  Is this the building block of something new?? Only God knows....

Mood: romantic

When does life start getting so complicated (Revisited)

Another continuation of a previous post..  this one goes back to 2012, when I first started complaining about folding laundry.

Not only do I have to deal with a dozen different piles, when I still only have my 3 piles of boxers, undershirts and socks, but the fact that everyone in this family flips their clothes when putting it in the hamper!  It comes out from the dryer... not only do I have to fold it, I have to flip it backside up.  So tell me, how does the laundry even clean these clothes if it's flipped!?!

I even made an [empty] threat that I won't flip the clothes anymore.  If they like to flip it for the wash, they can reflip it when they wear their clothes. Course, I won't do that.  I love my family too much.

Mood: flippant

"For the first time in forever..."

Anna.... Elsa.....

Bubbly... Ice cold.... 

Big Bro.... Me..... 

Clark's bday... Coronation day... 

Big bro has always been an idealist... or an ideal pursuist. (one who pursues)  He loves the [idea of] a big family gathering for Christmas...where every one wears an ugly Christmas sweater, drinks egg nog, watches the log on a fire on KQED and sing carols.  He longs for the long white table where the head of the household carves the Thanksgiving turkey while everyone wears church clothes; girls with pony tails, boys with hair split in middle.  He throws a bday party on a Sunday afternoon, at Fisherman's Wharf, with mom and dad and 3 young kids.  He's "Anna."

I'm "Elsa." I show up. I eat. I have a good time.  I go home.  Maybe I'm jaded.  Maybe I've seen it too many times. Maybe... I'm just ice cold.

Can't fault Big Bro and Big So. They're noobs with kids' bday parties.  They'll learn.  Never do it in a tourist area.  Grab a bar table if it's available. Find a place where there's ample parking.  And don't... have guests drive 1.5 hrs after church to get there.  Man.... and to think, I made it there in record time.... 1 hour and 20 minutes.  Heh...

And oh..."for the first time in forever..." mom and dad sat at the same table and had a meal.  Go figure.  All it took was for their grandson to have his 3rd bday.  Go figure.   

Mood: "LET IT GOOOOOOOO.... LET IT GOOOOO....."

Cravings...

To crave for something... to want something... to think about that thing night and day, day and night, with no satisfaction ahead of you??

One week ago... on my flight back from NOLA... the flight attendant was having buffalo wings for dinner.  I smelled it all the way from my seat... and verified it when I made an excuse to go wash my hands.  The spiciness, the tanginess, the mouth-watering crunchiness took residence in my hippo-campus where I could not take my mind off of it.  When I closed my eyes... I saw the orangy wonderment.  Even in my dreams... I dreamnt of a plate full of the godliness served in front of me over an ice cold beer.

After a week of torture... I finally found peace in a bag of frozen wings.  I stopped by Lucky's on my way home, paid $10 for a dozen frozen wings... and tried (feebly) to fill that void of desperate desire.  I could have nuked it... but opted for the eonic heat from the oven... hoping for the sweet crunch of cripsy skin; followed by the squirt of chicken juice, smothered by the concoction of Tabasco, pepper and the scientific colloidal paste...

What I got instead... was a mushy, drippy, saturated piece of tissue that was nothing more than an orange mess.  Whatever the flight attendant was having... I was having the 180, entirely opposite of it.  And the price to pay for the spiciness... today, I was dealing with an upset stomach the entire day.  What.... a.... croc.  But all worth it... in the name of satisfying a craving.  Oy....

The other craving I had... last night, I was someone have a pina coloada.  I was craving for a pineapple smoothie the entire night.  Stopped by Lucky's on the way to work to pick up an Odwalla... and saw Jamba Juice opened at 7AM!!!  And there it was... a healthy version of satisfying my craving.

Now... what if that craving wasn't a chicken wing or juice drink... but rather... a {cocktail bun?}  How far would I go to satisfy THAT craving?

Mood: satisfied (with a bit of pain)

Copy Cats

There's gotta be a scientific term for this... but recently, I've noticed that people are copy cats, when it comes to words, and probably don't realize it.

A few weeks ago... I mentioned to a buddy that mom "polished" her plate of rice noodles.  Then within days... she says it's easy to "polish" off egg tarts.  She never used that word until I brought it up.

At work.. I said that if we don't complete this special project, we'll get "skewered" by the execs.  Soon after, in the same conversation, someone else uses that same word, "skewered."

Another word example.. when I used the word "conducive", my other co-worker followed suit and incorporated it into his vernacular.  

I started using the word "dabble" in my conversations... and a buddy then said, "they'll let me dabble...." the very next day.  Again, never once has she used that word. 

I'm probably a victim of this too... but there's a lot more influence we make on a day to day, hour to hour basis, than we realize.  Now imagine... if we incorporate words like, "blessing" and "hallelujah."  Will there be enough copy catting that everyone all learns to praise God?

Mood: blah

Proceed with Caution

It's out there... whether it's on purpose or nay.  But once you come out as a labeled Christian... people are watching you, observing you, finding faults in your daily behaviors, catching you in your own hypocrisy, even setting traps for you to step in.

I absolutely hate it when people do that.... "Hey!! You didn't say grace!!"  or "I thought Christians vote Republican." Of particular interest to folks... is my stance on costumes and more notably Halloween.  I can't deny it... there's a lot of cute costumes out there.  And tonight... I stepped right into that trap, whether it was intentional or not. 

Gotta be on high alert and proceed with caution...

Mood: peeved

Missed Opportunities

Had a family gathering today to pay our respects to my grandfather and grandmothers. Afterwards we ventured around San Francisco/Colma and finally found a place for lunch where I had a chance to chat with a cousin whom I haven't seen in years.... only to find out she and her daughter (and possibly her mom) is a regular church goer.  I casually ask her what church she goes to; making small talk... nothing out of the ordinary.  There was the ever of slight pauses...then she said, "係摩門教."

I was a bit surprised... but I didn't show my hand.  But why did she pause? Was she embarrassed about it? Did she know I'm a conservative evangelical Christian that could possibly judge her? Or was she just afraid that, like the rest of the family, she'd get ostracized?

Without skipping a beat... I followed up with "Oh... LDS?"  And we carried on a whole different conversation about faith... child raising... teenage dating, etc...

Boy am I depressed.... how can I claim to be a Christian... share my faith left and right with people I know (and don't know), but let the Mormon Church find their way into my family?? The answer... cuz they simply do it.  They aren't afraid of rejection or stepping on anyone's toes.

This marks the 2nd time (that I know of) where one of my family member has been approached by LDS.  When will I step up my game and bring salvation to our family?  How many more missed opportunities will I have to face before I wake up?

Mood: surprised

Collapsing - body and family

Daylight savings... traveling forward two time zones... nights of sleeplessness... catching up on a month's worth of bible study homework... and hours of rehashing / clearing the air / precious connecting...  resulted in me collapsing this afternoon.

After bible study class I went to pick up the kids from a party, headed to the library and then came home.  Had we gone out to play or done some outdoorsy stuff cuz the weather was just perfect, I wouldn't be typing this post now.  But my body finally told me... "Go take a nap."

The nap was much needed.  I hadn't slept well all week.... there was just too much going on.  But I was rebellious.  I ain't young anymore... at some point, it will catch up, with a price.

When I finally woke up... I was still feeling the physical toll.  SW really wanted to play... but I had too much work to do.  This resulted in two rowdy kids with too much energy on their hands causing mom to punish them to stand in the corner?!?!?

On our way to Let's Proclaim, we stop by a restaurant to pick up dinner...and I was still a little moody.  The kids felt a bit of my wrath when they wouldn't go say "Hi" to a family friend at the restaurant.  (Why are they so shy???) During the beginning of ARROWS, one of the kids stepped out of line during the assembly so I pulled him outside to rip him to shreds.  He deserved it.  He needed some discipline.  I think that shocked all the adults present.  I nearly ripped another girl to pieces when we line up... and she was just being difficult.

After getting it all out of my system.... I had one of the best nights of "Let's Proclaim."  My mind was rested, my body rejuvenated and my spirit was alert.  The kids absolutely did not mind my "lecture." In fact... we had one of the best nights of critical thinking where I launched into topics after topics of Apologetics. Speech or no speech...the biggest goal of Let's Proclaim is to have them critically think about such topics like Creation and Salvation and Authenticity of the Bible.... and build a safe environment where they can ask question that otherwise, can thwart their faith later on in their walk with Christ.

But with all my positive energy used up... and when one of the parents picked up her child very late... I ended up over-punishing SW.  To which I'm still reeling with guilt as I type.

Patience - a virtue and fruit of the Spirit that just never seems to take root and grow.  If only I can truly live out the words, "A moment of patience in a moment of anger can help us avoid a thousand moments of regrets."  Maybe... I need to get that tattoo'ed onto my hand.

Mood: remorseful

$14.95 / hour

Back in the Summer of 1993 - I was desperate to get a summer job, but didn't know how.  The normal form you fill out to get a job making minimum wage didn't pan out (forget the reason).  But right when summer began... there were signs every where in San Francisco saying you can earn $14.95 an hour... selling knives.  And that became my first official job.

$14.95, of course, was bait. The knives selling, was a scam.  The start kit, which all sales rep had to buy, was $150.  And I made a total of 3 sale... a carving fork to mom.  A fishing knife (or Rambo knife) to dad.  And a knife set to 師傅. I attended the orientation... went to a bunch of training... and I truly thought that I can let "the product sell itself."  But in the end... I was not the sales person the marketing company had me thinking I would be.  My network simply was made up of people too poor to afford such luxury items -- including those rich snobs at church.  Till this day.. I still remember most of my sales script.  A few years back, I saw Costco having a sales display -- and I was still able to recognize most of those knives.  So whenever I go to someone's house, or to out for dinner that has a steak knife, I would naturally pick it up and examine/admire the knife.

Case in point, Thursday night, we had a leadership offsite dinner with a bunch of VP's at one of Emeril's restaurant.  I was given a knife... and as any mingling session would have it... you start to talk about things you normally don't talk about in every day conversation.  It turns out... two of the VP's that sat on the same table were also failed Cutco sales reps.  We spent a while going through our own stories... and examining whether or not we can make it these days... with our current network and our speaking skills.

At the end... I told my VP, at our next Quarterly Review or All-hands... I can demo how to use the shears to cut a penny.  To which the other VP's said... "We'll join you."

Mood: nostalgic

You only need to answer "Yes" or "No"

So many courtroom drama plays out with the attorney questioning the witness... resulting in the witness rambling on and on and on.... to a point where the judge simply says "Just answer 'Yes' or 'No'."  But it ain't that simple bro..............

Currently reading a book called, "The Genius of Language: Fifteen Writers Reflect on Their Mother Tongue" where famous English writers evaluate the all-powerful English language in contrast with the language they grew up with.  Amy Tan - the author of Joy Luck Club (among others) - reflected on Chinese.  To which she so masterfully writes, "And so the language being compared is always in danger of being judged deficient or superfluous, simplistic or unnecessarily complex, melodious or cacophonous." That is so true on so many things in life... you pick a standard and you by default, that's what everything is measured against, right/wrong/indifferent.

Having been a Chinese/English or English/Chinese translator for years at church... there is the simplest of simple word that simply can't be translated.  As Cyrano de Bergerac and much later Steve Martin (in Roxanne says):

"There is a tiny word; it is not a noun, it is not a verb... ...it is not an adjective, I do not know what it is. But if you said it to me tonight, all this blackness would go away."

"What is that word, Chris??"

"Yes."

Now... try translating that into Chinese.  I dare ya....

And if you can't... here's why: https://mandarinhq.com/2016/05/say-yes-in-mandarin-chinese/

Mood: bumbleful

The Assist

In basketball... the "Assist" is a stat that's recorded for feeding the ball to the person who eventually scores.  Though not the most glorified stat... it's still a cherished number for the ages. All through my life.. I've enjoyed playing that role -- the person who feeds the ball to his teammate who ends up getting the glory.

Back in Kindergarten of Chinese School... every week, we'll learn new characters and had to copy down new vocabulary. I wrote the fastest (not the clearest) to a point where my friends would have me write for them!  In high school... I vividly remember the '92 presidential election project that my friend copied.  Teacher gave both of us F's right away. To his credit, he admitted he did it without my knowing.  And I really didn't know.  Also in high school... I once did a math project that scored an A. My friend had the gall to put white out over my name and turn in my work -- with my handwriting!! In college... I would always be the one feeding homework to my friends.  I found ways to help them during midterms and finals.  One time, my friend took my C++ code and changed all the variable names and comments and location of the paran / semi-colon's.... but it was my work.

Now that I'm in the workforce... things haven't changed.  Too many times, have I done the ghost-writing, or the setting up for, or the preparation of "stuff" that other people end up copying, leveraging or re-using.  Deep in the abyss of my mind... all I care about is if I was able to help someone.  That's really the bottom line.  It'll be nice if they learned a thing or two while copying.  I will admit, there is a tad of resentment on the side... that they don't deserve the credit.  Or there is a little guilt that says I'm hurting them by not letting them struggle and learn.

This past weekend... all the same.  I came across a project which I immediately scored a "D-" on.  I'm a tough grader.  I can't believe this group of hi-pots would be content with this type of output.  But at least one person had the decency, professionalism and inherent instinct to send out a bat-signal at the 11th hour.  Two days of research, digesting, calling up old friends who were experts in the field... and out came something that I would consider palatable.  Not great...maybe a B/B+.  And what happens... these hi-pots supposedly took it and ran as if they were entitled to it.

I know it goes both ways. I've ridden on other's people's coat tails before and that sense of liberation and freedom is thrilling. But in all those instances... I pulled my own weight and put out my best effort.  This new generation... I have no idea what they're made of.  So disappointing. If and when someone does want to recognize me for "the Assist", I will naturally redirect and refocus.  It's not about me...or you... it's about the team.  And quite honestly... this time, it was all about {Commissioner Gordon}.

Mood: down-trodden

The Return of Nui-stones

Third post in a roll that's about Nui-nui and her milestones... aka Nui-stones.

Last Sunday, we had our second "Good Morning, Abba" session, where the CS congregation gets together at 8AM to have a time of corporate daily devotion, otherwise known as Time With Abba (TWA).  Nn and SW were not happy doing this... (even though they're doing it every morning without even knowing it.)

This past week leading up to Saturday, Nn shared with her friend this wonderful concept called TWA.  And they had a date on Saturday morning, where they engaged in a virtual daily devotion together.  They read a bible passage according to the schedule.  They shared and prayed (actually, only Nn prayed) and they did all this via Google Docs.  They were chatting on Google Docs, typing and communicating on a shared document.  I was floored...

Here's the twist.... as if you don't see it already.  As much as it's holy and sacred that NN is becoming a salt and light at her school and being a living testimony of what Christ is doing in her life... NN has inadvertently stepped into the world of social media, texting/chatting and even worse.... cooking porridge.

Case in point... Saturday afternoon, I opened up Joyce's iPad for some other reason and found NN still logged into Google Docs.  I couldn't resist but browse through the titles of her docs and a couple of them caught my eye. (Don't judge me. You'd do the same)  I opened them and started reading it... to which I was admonished by Joyce for not respecting her privacy!!!!  So I said, "Fine!! I ain't telling you what it says!!!"  (That'll show her!!)

The stuff I read was amazing... amazing what our child is already going through.  For the sake of privacy... I won't share on the world-wide-web what my daughter and her friends are saying about each other and their classmates.  I had the sudden urge to call all the parents and tell them this is happening.... to which they'll probably say, "Yeah... we know.  It's been going on for a while.  Welcome to the club."

So was I wrong for snooping? Is it an invasion of privacy??  What would you do?? How would you protect your children??

Mood: Protective

This generation

This generation faces a set of challenges that our generation never knew existed. The enticement of entertainment; the allure of instant gratification; the bombardment of sexual and violence innuendos; the fortification and expectation of the dreaded, not 4.0, but 5.0.  Recent days, there's been the "Momo Challenge" hoax floating around that's haunted parents left and right.  What's next???

Well... how about your nearest and dearest friends at a Christian based private school?  

Found out today... that Nn's recent best friend (it rotates every month or so) have stopped hanging out.  This is two days after they had a playdate where they made unicorn poop (aka slime) together.  They play a lot of imaginary and role playing games... and Nn's friend wanted Nn to play a character that had an intimate girlfriend.  (SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH).  Hold it right there!! Wha?!?!?!?  This is 4th grade we're talking about!  

Nn told her friend... that's not right.  I don't want to play.  And they've stopped being friends since.  (Wow!!)  

We haven't spoken to the parents yet... but according to Joyce, this family attends a church that welcomes people from all walks of life, regardless of lifestyle. There's a lot to be said here.  But the three things that stand out in my mind are:

1. I will not compromise
2. I will stand in the gap
3. I will choose Jesus, every day of my life. 

How will we prepare our children to face the future challenges that lie ahead.  We can pay for this, educate them with that, enhance their abilities left and right.  And hope they have enough ammo in their bag of tricks to fend off hydra's heads.  Or... we can point them towards the Way, the Truth and the Life.  And when you're focused on Him.... everything else will fall into place.

Mood: proud

A dash of creative freedom...

Was reading NN her bedtime story earlier this evening.  The female protagonist argues with her parents about pursuing a career in fine arts.  She makes a very convincing argument... at which point, I felt empowered, if not responsible, to maybe take some creative freedom and perhaps edit the story just a wee bit.

So instead of the girl continuing to argue.... and eventually win the argument of pursuing her dream and passion... I enhanced the story to have the character say, "Yes mom and dad.  You're right.  I need to be practical of what I do for the rest of my life.  Art can be a hobby on the side."

Joyce walks by and gives me a look.

Nui-nui then says, "That's not what the book says!! Bah-B, you're changing the words!!"

How did they know?!?!?!?

Mood: flabbergasted

熱臉碰著冷屁股

Learned a new term today.  When you truly mean well, but whatever is done or said simply backfires and thrown back in your face. I grew up using 好心着雷劈.  But it turns out in Mandarin Chinese... it's 熱臉碰著冷屁股.  Couldn't help but chuckle.. more like a snicker.  Chuckle contains some sort of humor.  There was no humor today. Snickering at the man in the mirror, like "Silly boy...why even bother??"  To which the man in the mirror can only respond with, "I give up."

Mood: chilling... (from the frozen buttocks in my face). 

"Good night, sleep tight..." (Revisited)

(Hrmm... I think I'm like the movie studios. Running out of blog ideas and I'm writing sequels for previous posts. Ha!!)

Date was set. Plans in place. Everything was bought, almost everything. It's been almost a week since the exterminators supposedly got rid of all the bedbugs from moms apartment. Then on Saturday night, we got that text, just like two Saturdays ago when we got the initial text, there’s still bedbugs in the house. There goes our plan out the door, out the window, into the toilet along with the other four P's. Poop, Pee, Paper, Puke....Plan.

Saturday night we called an audible. Instead of bringing out all the new stuff we bought... I dug out my old bed rails. After church, I hit up Walmart, IKEA and Home Depot to pick up a cheapie throwaway bed, comforter and pillows. As well as mattress and pillow covers and bed bug traps.

We got to mom's place and big bro and I started to deconstruct the existing bedframe which probably would’ve taken me over an hour had I did it myself, but it took a mere 20 minutes. We took the bed down to the streets and even scheduled the city of San Francisco to pick it up officially. As the stars were aligned, when we took the bed out to put it out in the streets with mom, guess who shows up, but dad. He’s coming out for his “breath of fresh air“ a.k.a. for a smoke.

He wasn’t hiding it anymore but he did politely walk to the street corner where we wouldn't smell the secondhand smoke. After we were done with our business, we, the four of us, went back upstairs. Riding in the same elevator. And for the first time in, 10 years, the four of us were in the same place at the same time together.

Inside that 6‘ x 6‘ x 10‘ confined space those three floors of awkward silence was deafening. I nearly busted out laughing seeing how ironic and awkward the situation was. But I bit my lip. I just stared at the floor, avoiding making any eye contact with anyone. I know if I looked up at big bro and he stares back at me and it will be the end of it. Part of me wonders, if the parents were sneaking looks at one another, perhaps even thinking, "I wonder if the kids know. Act normal!!"

In the back my mind, I thought maybe, just maybe, the four of us can share a meal together that night. If I was a betting man, I would bet Dad saying "Yes" and Mom would said "No." I was surprised when mom told big bro to give her a call if we were having dinner. Why she told big bro to give her a call and not me, I do not know. As it turns out Dad had “plans.“ When we told her dad is not coming with us, I could’ve sworn there was just a slight hint of disappointment breathing in the air. Maybe I’m overthinking or maybe this is just an effed up dream where I wake up with bedbugs bites all over me.

As for mom’s issue and problem, exterminators come tomorrow. This time, instead of the heat and chemical treatment, they’re going to go to use steam treatment. Hopefully after this time, the bugs won’t come back we can happily throw away the temporary furniture and make a final delivery. Putting this behind us once and for all.


Mood: More Irrational Itchiness

Regret

In life... you can't have too many regrets.  Every triumph and every failure is exactly what it took to get me to where I am today.  Though I proclaim to have no regrets and fully trust God in His providence... I do have regrets.  And today, I opened up one of the biggest regrets of my life.

Was rummaging through some junk dad handed to me.  While cleaning it out... I found a letter, folded into a tiny square buried inside an envelope that contained a letter stating I was awarded a scholarship.  I opened that letter... and for the very first time... I laid eyes on my Lowell High School rejection letter.  I've heard about this letter.  Dad has mentioned it several times (in my presence), of how I juuuuuuust missed the cutoff cuz of my ethnicity.  

I studied the letter.  Then I studied the scoring criteria to realize, I was off by 2 points.  Two points is the size of the Grand Canyon compared to those who missed it by 1 point.  Then I analyzed where those 2 points came from.  I scored in the 96th percentile on that CTBS Entrance Exam.  I thought I had screwed it up.  Getting into the 97th, 98th or 99th percentile would've just yielded me 1 more point.  Where I really screwed up... was 8th grade, 1st semester English and Social Studies, where I got a B average. 

In that bag, was also my 8th grade report card.  English... quarter by quarter, I got A-, B, A, A.  What happened in that second quarter?!?!?!?  How did it drop to a B????  Social Studies...quarter by quarter....B, A-, A-, A.  What happened in first quarter???? How did I go from B to A's????  I was THAT close!!!! Had I just gotten an A- in the 2nd quarter of English; or an A- in 1st quarter of Social Studies... or an A here, and one percentile higher there... then life as I know it will be..................................................  

I stared at my report card in disbelief for minutes.  I was in shock.  THAT was how close I was???  I started to shake.  Tears started to well up.  Dad kept this letter ALL THESE YEARS.... why????  I know why.  And the first words that I verbally uttered.... "Dad....I'm sorry.  I let you down." 

Love... or 愛.  In life... your 最深/心愛 will always be your wife and kids.   Your 最親愛 will always be your mom.  If you're blessed... you might have someone that is your {最疼愛}.  And then, there's the 最敬愛 - your most respected - which generally falls on your dad.  Your provider.  The man who named me.  The man who raised me.  The man who gave up nearly everything he had... so that his imbecile son can have a proper education.  And earlier this evening, I found out how much I disappointed him and let him down, the man I respected the most, my 最敬愛.  To a point where he kept this disgusting, rejection letter all these years. 

No one will understand.  No one will.  People will kindly and sympathetically say, "You're better off without Lowell."  Or "You've accomplished so much." But that's not the point, it's not about me.  I don't give a flip about Lowell....or Wallenburg.... or SI.  Heck... I love my Mission High years.  But what brought me to my knees tonight.... was what I put dad through.  

While making dinner... I tried, but failed to hold back the tears.  I tried to hide it.  Sniffling.  Coughing.  Turning away from the wife and kids.  But the tears... eventually turned into weeping.  Joyce thought I was sick... and finally asked, "Are you Ok?" To which I completely lost any ability to speak....and can only mutter, "I'll tell you later."


這一刻,不期然的想起梁家家訓. 

繼祖宗一脈相承， 刻謹克儉。 

教兒孫兩行正路， 惟讀惟商。

爸爸, 我對你唔住. 我對祖宗唔住. 冇實踐到"克勤克儉"這四個字. 不肖子的懶惰, 不孝子的疏忽,帶比梁家這個奇恥大辱。

爸爸, 對唔住、帶比你可等大嘅失望。枉費你對我嘅一番心血, 有負你對我養育之恩. 我一生人裡，冇乜幾件事會後悔, 但呢件事我終身後悔。
今日你個不肖子重改埋你個梁家家訓, 連"惟讀惟商"我都冇傳下去。
但係蒙主恩, 有幸家中有兩個兒女，盼望我能盡做父親的責任教導他們克勤克儉, 教兒孫兩行正路, 能夠光宗耀祖, 帶比梁家應有嘅光彩。

爸爸, 請你原諒孩兒。

(A fitting way, to end a tumultuous week.  And the week ain't over yet.)

Mood: 恥