father and dumplings

It's rare that we talk about the girls' maternal grandfather. They know I was my dad's favorite because this is what I tell them. That he clapped when I was born but made a gesture of dissatisfaction when my big bro as newborn was presented to him. They know their GF spent a lot of time with me when I was small, when he was well, doing things like taking me to get groceries (and ice cream or donuts) in Chinatown, walking me to grade school in the mornings, waiting for me everydaywhen school let out, buying me treats, such as popsicles or candy, down at the corner store. My brain has images of myself snuggling up to him as he sat in his favorite chair in the living room, watching him puff on his cigarettes, standing beside him as he played mahjong with his usual posse consisting of three musty-smelling old gents, making him unexpectedly laugh so hard when I rattled off some random Chinese rhyme where I'd picked it up I know not (fee doot doot, sow noot noot, jiu jiu yew loy siy see foot).

Also, this man loved to read - we have that in common. We'd regularly go to the particular bookstore on Waverly Place where he'd borrow book series on a regular basis. I can still smell the bookstore. While he'd select his reading material, I'd browse the romance manga. Sometimes I'd convince him to buy me one. Thank goodness he never looked inside because he'd be shocked at the risque stories and images. 

One night I mentioned to younger girl-child that her grandfather was born in 1908, two years after the Great San Francisco Earthquake. She was nearly in awe that he was born over 100 years ago.  I told her about how he left his village in Guangdong province when he was 20 to come to America. Out loud, I wondered what he did when he landed in the U.S. I ought to know this. To girl-child, I clarified that he didn't check into a hotel upon arrival and then set out sightseeing. He came here to work, but where was here? I already knew he didn't settle in SF until around the time my mom emigrated from Hong Kong. He was likely working in San Diego for a while, but doing what?

On Saturday, I brought mom to my house for a cooking lesson. She was to demonstrate how to make a couple of my favorite Chinese pastries. While I had her trapped in my car for an hour, I decided to ask her about my dad. I've attempted this in the past on numerous occasions but she didn't always cooperate. I explained that in America, some people find it important to understand their roots and who were their ancestors. My ABC kids should know as much info as there is available and my mom was the link. Although talking about the past often conjures unpleasant memories, she was willing to talk.

The conversation was a long time in coming. I have a better picture of the life my father led from when he arrived on these shores until the time I was born. Still missing important details which I hope to eventually dig up. One thing I learned was that dad worked in a restaurant in Nevada from the time around WWII to the late-50's. In what city, I haven't discovered yet except that it was a "couple" of hours' drive inland from Reno. The existing restaurant was purchased by my grand-uncle who also had his family work in the business.

For the longest time the connection between the old man in the picture (who turned out to be my grand-uncle) at my "cousin's" house and his offspring was a mystery - like why their dad was called yee-sook (father's younger brother) when he didn't have any brothers or sisters (that I know about). I think in the Chinese family hierarchy you would refer to the son of the eldest grand-uncle as uncle (sook since he was younger than my dad). Something like that. Glad to have that clarified. It only took me this long to seek answers.

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