on FB but I'd like to repost here for journaling's sake.
My impossibly chic, mod parents in Hong Kong, 1967. My dad is no longer with us, and I wish I had photos of him and me, but suffice to say that he was a compassionate, wise, and hardworking man who got me and accepted without question how much of a pain in the ass I was (and in some ways still am). He watched out for me and tried to guide me as best he knew how.
He had great insight into people and situations but wasn't bombastic or didactic about sharing his opinion.
He had a much harder life than he deserved.
I miss him. I regret that he isn't physically here to see all of his grandchildren grow up. But, a bit of him lives in me, in my daughter, and in my son. And, I still ask for his advice every so often.
Happy Father's Day, daddy. I hope you're still checking up on us when you can, in between rooting for the Giants and listening to 33s on your record player.
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