The heritage of love, passed from one generation to the next, with a simple act of driving…translated…
And Yet, Reality Didn't Work that Way , Taking Him on Trips Everywhere, Instead, We'd, Slowly, Walked with Him, Through this, Final Passage of His, Life………..
One day, more than twenty years ago, I drove my new car, took my father from Hsinchu to the V.M.H. in Taipei for his hospital stay. That was the very first time he ever rode a car that I drove, he became curious, and skimmed around the car, kept rubbing his hands onto the soft cowhide leather seat.
"You got a new car?", I'd nodded. "Do remember to drive slowly, don't rush.", I'd still, nodded toward him.
This had been the way we'd, interacted, often, the simple question and answer, my father who worked in the military was always strict, kept to himself, he never showed too much emotions in front of us children. Even when we'd done well in school, I'd never heard him commending us for a job well done. My mother once told me in private, that he'd often, gloated about his children in front of his comrades, but I'd felt, that I'd lacked that connection of warmth with him as his son.
the illustration from UDN.com
Still remembered, that on the way to the hospital that time, my father sat in the passenger side, just looked at me as I drove him, and finally, he'd spoken: "son, you are, a very good driver! How I hope to get rides from you all over the country.", this out-of-nowhere compliment, surprised me, and I'd understood, that he'd, longed to, be close to me like I'd longed to be, closer to him too.
After that, my father with lung cancer worsened, and he'd stayed for treatment in the hospital in longer increments of days, and I'd begun, shouldering the responsibility as his, chauffeur; and yet, it wasn't as he'd wished, driving him around to travel around the country, but instead, it was, slowly, accompanying him to the end. And at the very end, he'd, left, and, I'd felt regrets, for not fulfilling his, wish.
Few months after the grieving period, my youngest son was, born. With his coming of age, my mother would tell, that my youngest resembled that of his own grandfather, not only did he also have a single-lid eye and a double-lid eye, even the dimples on his face, exact as my, father's. I'm guessing, that my father didn't feel willing to part with me, and still, came back by reincarnation, so we can continue being, father and son.
My youngest, loved riding with me, started in his middle school years, he'd, loved sitting in the front passenger side, watching me drive. He is outgoing, really talkative when he started chatting, loved having me taking him all over to travel. Whenever he's around, the laughter came nonstop from the car.
And now, he'd, graduated from the university, and passed his application to head to Japan to study in the language schools. After Memorial Day this year, we all traveled as a family to Hokkaido to visit him, he was our, tour guide, drove the rental car, took us to see all the sights. As I sat in the passenger side, watching him drive on the right side of the road, skillfully, going in and out of the streets, driving up those winding passes up and down the mountains, I couldn't help but smiled, and blurted out my father's words to me, "Son, you are, an amazing, driver!"
The moment these words came out, it's, as if, the three generations are, completely, connected. Once, my father's plain compliment, it'd made me feel that he loved me; and at this very moment, I'm, passing this same love, using the same method, passing it on to my own, son.
So, this is a sort of a legacy, of how love is shown and expressed by these generations, and because the elder passed, and the son didn't get to fulfill his own father's dreams of riding in the car that he drove, his son somehow, fulfilled hiss own father's dreams, by driving him.
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