Showing Up

Fifteen years ago today my Dad died. In the 15 years I have been a parent I have often thought about what it means to show up for kids, be it emotional, logistical, financial, etc. As immigrant parents of 7 kids, running a business with 8am to 11pm hours, my parents didn't have a lot of degrees of freedom to show up in the ways I wanted them to show up. I longed for my Mom to be the Field Trip Mom and for my parents to come to my school concerts, though I didn't feel resentful. Quite frankly, complaining wasn't an option in our house.

When I was in college, as my parents' business began to wane into eventual retirement, their degrees of freedom to show up in different ways increased, and even though technically I was an adult, I remember feeling a child-like sense of wonder and disbelief when they showed up. When I played solo recitals in college and looked up in the balcony and saw my parents, I would blink a couple of times, exhale, and think, "They made it. They are really here." The drive to Wheaton was under an hour but under an hour felt like a big deal when attending the in-town events of my youth usually was impossible. So it was a huge deal when, in 2002, my parents (and a few of my siblings) made the 7.5 hour trek to Canada for my PhD convocation (pictured). This wasn't the easiest trip for my Dad as his physical decline had begun. There were some difficult moments. But he showed up.

Towards the end of my Dad's life, he showed up emotionally. We spent a lot of time together during his final 6 months. I was supposed to return to my postdoc F/T but wrangled to go back P/T. I brought lunch a few times a week, tried to help my Mom, and just hung out. I was a new mom so he now could have a good laugh as I shared about sleepless nights and mom fails. I saw a softer, charming, funny side of him. I was eventually able to say "I love you" and he would actually say it back. Dad, thanks for showing up, in the ways that meant survival for the family for so many years, and later, in the ways that made me feel connected to, and seen by, you. I wish you had been given more than your 71 years but I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to see you so fully.