Emantable

Well, I ended my daily streak yesterday. 😦 I’ve continued writing at a late hour and last night I fell asleep trying to type. I spend a lot of hours on the computer for work, so when it comes time to writing these I lie on my stomach and type away. I know it’s a terrible posture, but I’ve gotten used to it.

The main thing I was looking forward to writing about this weekend was Otomisan–the oldest Japanese restaurant in Los Angeles. We ended up not eating here because the wait was too long and we instead went to a Korean BBQ place in Little Tokyo a few miles away. Otomisan is a small restaurant in the predominantly Latino neighborhood of Boyle Heights. It used to have a much higher Japanese population in the past, but the demographics have since changed, and now this is the only Japanese restaurant left in this neighborhood. Although, I think it may be the last remaining in this particular part of Boyle Heights. I find it hard to believe there are no other Japanese restaurants in the entire neighborhood.

While I’m on the topic of disbelief, I was surprised and skeptical that a restaurant from the 1950s could call itself the oldest Japanese restaurant in LA. After a few moments, I sadly realized that the timeline made sense given that Japanese-Americans were forced into internment camps during World War II. So any Japanese restaurant that existed before the war would have been forced to close.

I look forward to making another attempt to visit this restaurant and learn more about its history and its food.

---

There was more rain the following day, so it turned into a day where I watched more videos than I should have while staying cozy inside away from the cold. I did manage to finish three reports for the day ended, so my Sunday wasn’t completely wasted on entertainment.

I said yesterday, I would start writing about the day before so that I wouldn’t be writing late at night, but here I am again writing very late into the night. I’ve always loved the quiet and tranquility of nights, and old habits are hard to change. I mean to write a little bit about last week’s concert, and about a work event last night. So perhaps I’ll do a longer post this weekend since I’ll be a lot less busy.

Not much to report on today, other than I am very exhausted after a busy week. I didn’t have much time for myself, but I am making an effort to practice the piano more, and to also read more. I love books, and I’ve given up on reading only one book at a time. I’ve found that sometimes I get stuck reading through a book slowly when there are other books lined up that I finish much more quickly. Anyway, we’ll see.

I find it ironic, that last night I was writing about wanting to be in a cloister to find my peace, and today I was at a work event with hundreds of people and…I kinda enjoyed it.

I’ll post more about the event tomorrow. I going to start writing about the my day on the following day, because it’s been getting a little too tiring to be posting these late at night.

There is so much I want to do, but find myself pressed for time. I sometime feel like I would accomplish everything I wanted to if I occupied every single minute of my time towards something productive. Yet, I’m a daydreamer and love letting my time wander from time to time. My daydreaming sometimes gets in the way of work, but it’s also the source of my greatest ideas and sometimes clever solutions to problems. I procrastinate and sometimes easily distracted, but I’m also very good at what I do and people are pleased with my work.

This year, I need to really embark on a journey to eliminate as many unecessary distractions from my life and keep my eye on the prize. I sometimes crave the life of monks who cloister themselves away from the goings-on of the world and spend their days reading and meditating.

I’m reminded of the last local trip we took with my dad. We took the train to Mission San Juan Capistrano. We explored the grounds a litte, but eventually we settled on a bench looking out into the large courtyard. We all commented on how there was an unexplicable peace just sitting there in silent contemplation. Perhaps, to be more focused I need to counterintuitively take a step back and slow down.

I started looking through pictures and went ended up spending a while looking through photos and videos of my dad this past year. I still feel as if I can just give him a call and go visit him and I’ll be able to sit there and talk to him. Even though, I know he’s gone, it’s like my mind isn’t able to make sense of a world without him.

Went with Mom to see Juan Diego Flórez s at LA Opera. I wasn’t too happy with the concert at first, but he redeemed himself after the intermission with some Italian opera and with some Mexican songs that drew a lot of cheers and ended up steeling the show.

I’d like to write some more, but it’s way past my bedtime now.

It used to be that the only birthday in January was mine, but as the family has grown there are 4 of us with January birthdays. So today–as in other years–we combined them into one celebration. Our birthday celebration this year also coincided with the eve of the Lunar New Year, and since our family now includes members from Taiwan and Korea, it was only fitting that we celebrate Chinese New Year as well.

What would our family ancestors of centuries ago have said if they would have seen Mexican, Spanish, Aztec, Italian, Korean, and Chinese descendants sitting at a table as a family in a foreign country that was yet to exist?

It’s far too late into the night, but the silence and tranquility proved irresistible for indulging in some reveries of stories my dad would tell me. I treasure this stories and tried remembering as many as I could and jotted down some prompts about each one, so that later I can use that prompt to write in detail about what I remember.

I’m afraid of forgetting…

Lo conocimos como Rodolfo, Rudy, Popo, Tata, Deri, y para mí…Papi. Aunque de chico a veces me confundía la gente que me decía, “a mira, hay viene tu abuelito”. Fue una bendición tener a un padre 60 años mayor que yo, porque la experiencia y sabiduría de un padre de esa edad no tiene comparación. El temía que por su avanzada edad no iba a poder verme crecer por mucho tiempo, pero Dios lo bendijo con una larga vida. Una larga vida que le permitió verme convertido en todo un Meza…calvo, canoso, y con lentes. 

Vivir casi un siglo le permitió presenciar 11 diferentes décadas en un mundo frecuentemente cambiando. Nació en un mundo en donde los trenes se impulsaban con vapor y murió en tiempos donde la humanidad logra volar un helicóptero robótico en el planeta marte. Durante sus 96 años y medio, fue testigo de muchas celebraciones de vidas nuevas, sacramentos, y nuevas etapas de la vida y también fue testigo de muchas tristezas de seres queridos que se fueron antes que él.

Pero en medio de todos estos cambios y etapas, siempre existió un constante en su vida…su Fé. Desde que tengo uso de razón, mi Papi siempre para todo lo que hacía se encomendaba a Dios y a la Virgen María. Al despertar, al comer, al salir de su hogar, antes de acostarse, al comenzar un nuevo mes…siempre, siempre…tenía una oración para cada cosa. Y no solo eso. Su hábito de leer lo dedicaba casi exclusivamente a la Biblia, libros de teología, y las vidas de los santos. Hasta su afición de tallar la madera la dedicaba a crear esculturas de Jesús, La Virgen, y Santos. Su rincón de él era La Casita de atrás, donde en silencio y rodeado por el jardín podía escuchar su música clásica mientras leía o tallaba la madera. Por cierto, allí en La Casita él puso muchos cuadros religiosos…cada uno de ellos representado uno de los misterios del Rosario. Rezaba el Rosario frente a los cuadros que correspondían los misterios de ese día. Cosa que solía hacer diariamente de memoria.

De pronto no entendí porque se nos fue justo antes de la Navidad. Pero luego comprehendí que en esta Navidad nació un nuevo ángel y esta Navidad le tocó a mi papi celebrarla junto a sus padres, hermanos, e hijos que ya lo esperaban allá. Un día volveremos a celebrar las Navidades junto a él y sera para ya no separarnos jamas. Pero mientras llegue ese día, extrañaremos profundamente a este hombre ejemplar…a este hombre de Fé.