Loving my Asian dad is something I rarely have a conversation about and lately, I’ve been avoiding any conversation about love and “loving another person.”
As a college student who grew up in America, the culture here is very different in terms of the use of language in conversations, gestures, and actions. In most cases, people are more open to saying things that they aren’t afraid of saying. Just a few days ago, a close friend said to me as I was leaving school, “love you,” and I felt very confused. Questions like, do you REALLY love me, or why DO you love me, came chasing after me like moths drawn to light. I rarely hear the word “love” when said to me in an enduring way because one of the common things that happened to me growing up Asian was that I never or rarely hear that word.
The ONE and only time I have ever heard my dad say that he loved me was when I was in elementary school and he had a few of his friends come over. At that time, my brother and I shared a room because we were both afraid of the dark. As it got late, their voices got louder and I can guess they had a few drinks here and there. The thing I would always do is complain if I felt unhappy about something. My brother is a heavy sleeper so the noise didn’t bother him, but I soon got really annoyed. One of my dad’s friend noticed me opening my door quite a few times, looking at them with utter annoyance and he told my dad that I was up. I suppose my dad was having a grand ole’ time socializing with his friends and as he comforted me to go back to sleep, his breath with a reek of alcohol said, “Debbie, I love you, I really do.”
Thinking about it now, I guess the only easy way to get an Asian parent to say that they love you is when they’re drunk. On the contrary, my mom was a very expressive woman, whenever my brother and I talked on the phone with her, at every phone call she would say, “I love you” and be very “weird-ed” out by it because I grew up with my dad who never said those words.
What I never realized about growing up in an Asian household was that every other gesture such as telling you to put on more layers of clothing because it was cold outside or eat more before you leave the house was another way of them telling you that you are loved by them. It’s understandable that my Asian dad would find it hard to tell me that he loves me now, but I see that he loves me every day as he leaves in the morning to go to work, comes home late at night and cooks my brother and I a home cooked meal. I was doing the pre-med track a semester ago and sometimes I would study chemistry and physics until three or four in the morning and what breaks my heart is when my lights go out, my dad knocks on the door and asks me what do I want to eat for lunch. This is love expressed in an action and it showed me how love, is something that makes you want to give your time to another person.
Whether they value it now or later, the actions create a memory that later reminds the one who is being loved how precious they are to you and how this can be reciprocated back.
