My Father by Angie Lee Berg
My father won’t be here to celebrate Christmas with us this year.
My father was imperfect just like you and me.
There was no internet or information on how to be a good father in his days, but he loved us in his own way. Sometimes, it was not how we like it. Sometimes, it made us resist his love. In spite of this, he continued to love us even more so in his own manner. Although he was not a perfect father, we still love him resolutely, especially in his final days.
My father was truly blessed. He was surrounded by my devoted family who catered to his every need towards the end of his life. I want to thank my mom, my sister and my brothers for caring for dad when I was far away from home. I am sorry that I couldn’t share your burdens. I truly appreciate your hard work during those difficult days.
My father grew up in turbulent times. He witnessed the political instability of the early Republic of China followed by World War II and the Chinese Civil War between the Communist Party and the Nationalist Party, that led to broken families and the displacement of many people in Greater China. He left home to join the army led by General Dai Li in his teens. Thus, he began his life of uncertainty. Later on, such insecurity revealed in how he behaved and how he treated us. For example, he checked on us with a military flashlight every night to make sure we were sound asleep. He surprised us in the middle of the night and flashed bright light on our faces which was ridiculous, but he wanted to make sure that we were safe. He was mysteriously secretive for no reason. He told us to turn on the parking lights instead of the headlights. Don’t let people know when you are coming or going. We can only turn on the headlights after we exited our driveway. These curious behaviors may be connected with his training as an intelligence officer under General Dai Li!
My father shared his past with me many times and I enjoyed listening to his stories. Some of his spy stories made me think to myself “Oh boy! We have 007 living in our house!” He told me how he maneuvered his motorcycle wheel to cast stones. He used the front wheel to throw rocks wherever he wanted and he always had a perfect hit. He recalled breaking the window of a Japanese military office with rocks to steal information during World War II when Japan invaded China. When the Chinese Communist Party took over, he snuck on the train of Yunnan-Myanmar Highway without a ticket. When the train conductor came to inspect tickets, he climbed out of the train and clasped his hands on the side of the train while it went through a cave. It was extremely dangerous but he escaped China and arrived in New Delhi. He hid in a cardboard box and waited until no one was around after midnight before he came out and left the station. He went to Myanmar shortly after New Delhi. I asked my father, aren't you afraid of being so dangerous? He replied in Cantonese, "At that time, I knew nothing about fear. All I knew was that it was cool."
Ever since he left his home in China as a young man, he was unable to return home in China for more than half of a century. Therefore, my father was always reluctant to leave home. He did not like any of us to leave home either. He enjoyed being surrounded by us, his wife and children. He was happy to say that we are a "Big Family". Now that I am more than half a century old and a mother who has adult children, I can totally understand how my father wanted his children to be around!
My father was very generous. He loved giving red envelopes to neighbors’ kids and was always willing to entertain our classmates and friends! My dad enjoyed dancing very much. We all call him the Dancing King in our house. My friends went dancing with him once. Even though my father was not rich he paid for them. This was his way of welcoming people who shared his passion for dance. I scolded him for his misguided gesture because the young couple made more money than he did. Later I understood that he was simply happy that he could give unselfishly. He did not have much but he was more generous than I am. I give when I have. When I don’t have much, I’d hold my pocket tightly. If I had learned any bit of generosity, that is a credit to my father and my mother!
I have always enjoyed writing and have written articles since I was a kid. I may not be the best writer but my father always praised me. When I got student honor roll awards, I secretly placed them on the dresser and waited for my father to come home from work to find them.
Back when I was in elementary school, I looked up to my father and thought he was really smart and highly educated. I often waited for my father to get off work. One night I waited past my bedtime. When he finally came home, he had a small piece of calendar in his hand. On the back of the calendar, he wrote something that looked strange to me. He wanted me to guess what it means. It was a poem with just four lines. I studied the poem for a long time. I admired my father’s handwriting. The characters were so beautifully written but I didn’t understand what they meant. Later, he patiently explained the poem to me.
I recently made a video of my calligraphy but my characters looked like chicken scratch. I wanted to share the meaning of a quote from an article. I didn’t expect people would tell me that my handwriting is so beautiful that I must have been specially trained. Growing up, my family was poor. My parents barely had enough to make ends meet. They certainly didn’t have money to pay for Chinese calligraphy lessons. They were too busy or exhausted minding their five children. Neither did they have time to make us study. Instead, our family adopted a laissez-faire attitude. I am grateful that my parents did not pressure me in that regard. I can only say that if my handwriting is any good it is all because my father’s DNA was so good!
My father was humorous and sometimes playful, especially around Christmas time. We spent Christmas together every year. In the U.S., my parents would always buy a big Christmas tree and decorate it with money and red envelopes. If you have been to my mother’s house during Christmas, you probably have seen our tree decked out like that. I have proof of that on my YouTube channel. My father loved packing, not wrapping gifts for us. Sometimes, when I open gifts from him, it’s a box, then inside is another box...box after box, layers after layers until you reach the last box holding a precious gift. That was the romantic side of my father. It was his language of love. He always filled a cookie box with sandalwood soaps. The smell of sandalwood soap makes me miss my father dearly.
My father was particular and pristine like a peacock. He loved dressing up in suits immaculately. I have inherited this from him. I also like to present myself dressed neatly and beautifully. When we were young in Taiwan, he taught us to wear closed-toe shoes when we go out. Never slippers! He forbade us to eat at a street vendor’s cart. I did not understand why we can’t when everyone else does it. Later on, I understood he was protecting us from unsanitary habits. This was before disposable plates and utensils were readily available. He also instructed us to use chopsticks properly and to grasp the chopsticks in a particular way. My father once said that he would give me $50 if I can hold my chopsticks well. His insistence had a subtle influence on me. He instilled good eating habits in me. He said that we should eat small bites and not rush to swallow the food. Someone once praised me about how delicate I eat. I remember this because this was a healthy habit I benefited from my father’s rigorous training.
My father was temperamental and strict. Back in our days, there was no gentle parenting. Parents disciplined us by scolding and spanking - the so-called spank harder, love deeper. My sister Cynthia, my brother Danny, and I were all beaten when we were young! But it was only once. Compared with other kids, we were very fortunate. However, there was plenty of scolding. My father yelled at us so loud that he did not need a microphone. The whole village heard him. Believe me, it was hard to endure when my dad was scolding us with bitter sarcasm.
My father was not perfect, but he was filled with goodness. He spoiled me. I remember when I was about 20, my mom asked me to cut vegetables and learn to cook. My father said that he would cut them for me. This is my excuse that I am a lousy cook because of my father! He had many imperfections but he treated us well. What I thank the most is that he accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as his personal Savior when he was young, so we could be raised in a Christian family. I have known the Lord in my mother's womb before I was born. I am thankful for my salvation and knowing Lord Jesus Christ is the most beautiful blessing in my life. It is all because of my father that I have such a blessing. My father was imperfect, but he gave me the opportunity to know Lord Jesus Christ. Most of all, our God, the perfect Heavenly Father, had made up for all of my father’s imperfections.
This summer, I was able to spend one month with my father in the last mile of his journey of life. I am grateful that Heavenly Father gave me time to spend alone with my father. He was so helpless and dependent. When he was in pain and didn’t want to live, he lost his temper and talked nonsense. No matter what I said, he retorted sarcastically. When he did that, I told him no matter what happens, just know that I love you. Suddenly, my father calmed down and fell silent. I felt he simply needed reassurance of my love. My father was not perfect. But he was my father. I love him just as I am his child. Although I am not perfect, he still accepted me and loved me. What’s more, we have a perfect Heavenly Father, God who fills every imperfection with Himself.
My father has no more pain and sorrow. I know where he went and where he is right now. He will be waiting for us with my Heavenly Father God until we meet again in heaven. There is no place better than being in the house of the Lord and I know my dad remembers that I love him!
2019-12-07
“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple.”
Psalms 27:1, 4 ESV
