Revisiting Emotions

After several busy weeks at work, I am finally back on a normal schedule and back to working on my father's book.  I have to admit, and I know my father reads this, but I was bored for a few chapters because they were mostly historical. 

Then today, that all changed.  Chapter 32 brought me back to the early chapters of the book.  The ones that I enjoyed so much...when my great-grandmother was first married and living in her mother-in-laws house.   She returned to the house after several years away in Shanghai, living with her husband, my great-grandfather.

Before I get too ahead of myself, here's a peek at what led to this.  My great-grandfather left his publishing job in Shanghai to join the revolution.  He accepted a position at a military school in Wuhan.  The revolution was picking up speed and soon war broke out.  It was making its way to Wuhan, so my great-grandfather had to join the battle.  For their safety, my great-grandmother took the children and returned to her mother-in-law's house.  It was as if nothing had changed.  Her mother-in-law immediately blamed my great-grandmother, saying she did not do enough to keep my great-grandfather from war.  She said my great-grandmother killed him, sent him to his grave for "allowing" him to join the military.  She ordered my great-grandmother to go find him and bring him home.  Fortunately, to protect the family line, her mother-in-law allowed my great-grandmother to leave her two older children at the house.

Before she left, my great-grandmother went to visit Li Zhu's grave.  You'll remember, Li Zhu was her oldest daughter, who had died several years earlier, at the end of Chapter 8.  My great-grandmother's pain and heartache was still so fresh.  Despite the years that had passed, she never once forgot about Li Zhu.  The raw emotion was overwhelming.  My eyes were so filled with tears as I listened to this passage, I could not see the computer keys or what I was typing on the screen.

Nothing in their lives were easy.  It was a constant struggle to survive.  And, this is just the beginning.  The worst is yet to come.  Nevertheless, my great-grandparents managed to lead a life filled with integrity and honor.  They passed onto their children that same sense of sincerity and virtue.  My grandmother instilled the same into my father.  Now, I can only hope that I carry some of those qualities as well.

Long Overdue

I just saw the date of my last post...April 19th.  Yikes!  It's been a while.

I actually feel really bad about not posting more often.  The project is progressing along quite nicely.  I'm done with nearly 30 chapters.  But I've had so many thoughts running through my head for this blog that it just became entirely too overwhelming and I found myself just avoiding it.

There's actually a little guilt involved as well.  What's been wonderful is the deep understanding I'm gaining for my family, my history and my culture.  But there is one thing I just can't get out of my head.  This isn't something that's new to me.  I've wondered it before.  It's a cultural thing that I don't think I will ever understand.

Why don't Chinese couples speak to each other with any warmth?

Okay, that's a gross over-generalization, but haven't you ever wondered "Why are those Chinese people yelling at each other?"  "Why are they mad at each other" or "That Chinese couple must be fighting."  I've been asked those questions many times.  The truth is, most of the time, they're not furious with one another, they're just having a conversation.

My parents did this when I was growing up.  As we've assimilated into American society, they slowly grew out of it and now they're love for each other is very obvious.  Not that I ever doubted it, but it's much more evident in the way they talk to each other now.

Perhaps part of it is the way my father is reading his story.  I made fun of him in the beginning of this process, saying he's a great storyteller but his narrating falls a bit flat.  I agreed with him when he said he was going to present the book to me as straight forward as possible.  But the words he uses give me the same feeling.  While there's no question my great-grandmother and great-grandfather were deeply devoted to one another and their family, their choice of words and the tone makes it seem otherwise.

For example, at one point in the book, my grandmother hugs her mother and asks if she loves her father.  Simple question, right?  One every child asks their parent at some point.  In America, if a child were to ask that question, the parent would most likely answer, "Yes, I love your *insert appropriate noun here* very much."  Maybe not in those exact words, but something close.  Instead, my great-grandmother acted annoyed, brushed off the question and ordered my mother to bed.

Now, of course, there's the old adage - actions speak louder than words.  And I agree with that entirely.  What good are the words if you don't back them up?  But I still don't think there's anything wrong with assuring your children/spouse/significant other that you love them.

Like I said, there's no real answer to this question.  It's just one of those big differences between cultures.  Something I will never come to understand.  In this way, I'm happy I was raised in a country where it's okay to show your feelings for someone else, where it is, in fact, encouraged.

I love my parents, my family, my friends and I am not afraid to say it!

Here's a look at some of the people in my beautiful family:

My mother, me, my great-grandfather, my father, my uncle

My guess is this was probably 1987 or so (despite the fact that my pants say it's 1973)