Emantable

There are days like today when I just don’t know what to write. I sometimes wonder if I could have done things differently? Could I have done more? I had some nice moments today, but then I feel guilty for having them.

I’d like to sleep and then wake up to find that it was all just a bad dream.

Today is the Epiphany, and it concludes Christmas. It celebrates the coming of the three wise men to the newborn Jesus. In our family we have a tradition of eating a rosca where a few baby Jesus are hidden and baked in the bread. Everyone takes a slice, and we see who got one of the babies. It’s a well-known tradition. The mood was a little different this year, but it is essential to hold on to our traditions because they tie us to our past and are part of who we are.

I routinely watch videos and read up on astronomy, so rereading the story of the three wise men today made me wonder what they saw in the sky that guided them to that manger. Was it a shooting star? A comet? A supernova?

I wonder…

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.

1 John 3:16

This particular passage called out to me today. I interpret it as also referring beyond the life of our physical bodies. I think that “lives” here also refers to who we are and what we have going on. I think it calls us to not put ourselves first and instead offer ourselves wholly to helping others–regardless of what else we may have going. We just show our love for others by setting aside our priorities to tend to theirs.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were warmer than average, but since then, there has been some form of precipitation every day, and it’s been cold. Now they’re talking about even heavier rain due to an atmospheric river and bomb cyclone. They were talking about another dry winter a few months ago, but it’s not looking that way.

I’ve always loved the rain even though it seems more somber given the circumstances. But I guess it is fitting and appropriate and gives me the space to reflect, read, and pray.

Below are a couple of time-lapse videos of the clouds that I took from my office window.

I had previously mentioned my growing interest in getting reacquainted with my Faith in recent years, and I’ve been even more inclined to do so after my father’s passing. He had a profound Faith that he incorporated into all aspects of his life and was always mindful of being in the presence of Christ at all times. He prayed as soon as he woke up, prayed throughout the day, and prayed just before bed. He prayed the Rosary almost daily. He’d do the sign of the cross every time he left the house, every time he got in his car, and for every other activity where he wanted God’s protection and guidance. Even his hobbies revolved around religion: he read almost exclusively on topics regarding Catholicism, the lives of Saints, and the writing and teachings of important figures of the Church; his wood carving was statues of Saints, Christ, or the Virgin Mary. He loved carpentry because the was his father’s occupation, and that was Jesus’ and Joseph’s occupation.

I find my father’s Faith incredibly inspiring and comforting in this time of grief. I prayed the Rosary daily and read the daily scriptures during lent last year, and I’ve felt the urge to do so again–I started on January 1st. Perhaps it may be more accurate to describe it as a calling.

For the first time in my life, I don’t feel ashamed to say that I want to be closer to Christ.

I’ve only ever been to the Rose Parade in person a couple of times. My dad always said he had the best seat in the house, sitting at home and having his coffee and tamales where he was comfortable and warm. In our family, we always make tamales for New Year’s Eve instead of for Christmas. This year, the Rose Parade was on January 2nd since they have a tradition of never having the parade on a Sunday so as not to disturb Sunday masses along the route. Today, I went to be with my mom because I wanted to remember my dad and I know she’d probably lamenting the empty seat this year.

I was making plans with her on things we can do in the coming months so that she can have something to look forward to and keep our minds occupied. The three main things we talked about are:

• An international orchid show in March that has been cancelled the past 3 years due to the pandemic
• The annual ritual of pruning the rose bushes
• Finishing a book we had started with my dad (we each had a copy).

It’s impossible to not think of my dad and feel his absence in anything we do. So the objective is not to distract from his absence but to honor his memory by continuing to lead productive and mindful lives that he can be proud of.

January 1, 2023

Over the past nine days, I’ve spent more time playing the piano, reading, and writing. Solitary activities that allow me to reflect on memories, unanswered questions, the future, and ultimately my grief. My father passed away peacefully the night before Christmas Eve. I’ve expressed at length the emotions I’m going through in other writing that for the moment I’ll keep for myself. He made it to 96 and half, but I would have wished to see his “eleventy-first” birthday (111) like Bilbo Baggins. I wasn’t until he was in his 90s that I realized how incredibly special it is to be in the presence of someone who has lived nearly a century. He was alive in 11 different decades. From the Roaring 20s to the 2020s. Lived through the Great Depression, World War II, the Cold War. Saw trains evolve from Steam Engines to Diesel to Electric. His first car had to be manually cranked to start it and lately rode in a car that can pretty much drive itself. Air travel was on propeller planes when he was born and he lived to see the landing on the moon, voyagers launched and continue to travel billions of miles from earth, and even a helicopter take first flight on Mars.

35,243 is the number of days my father was alive. What an amazing life he lived, and how I will miss him dearly. I know we will see each other again when my day comes, and I hope that when I stand before him once more, he will be proud of the life I’ve lived.

I’ll be posting daily once more as a sort of journal of my quest to find my way, heal, and make my dad proud. He was an excellent father and although he’s no longer with me in person, his teachings and memories will forever remain with me.

I miss you Dad, and I will always love you!

I wish I’d just come back from an adventure! The truth is I’ve kept myself a little busy with work and other obligations…as well as some mismanagement of my time. There’s always room for improvement. For the first time, today, I genuinely felt like we’ve come out of the pandemic (I know it’s still out there). I went to a concert at my beloved Walt Disney Concert Hall, and masks were finally optional. Disney Hall and LA Opera may have been the last two places on Earth requiring masking while indoors. I am truly thankful for the protection masks have afforded me these past two and a half years, but I was ready to move on. It felt wonderful to finally be able to be inside Disney Hall without a mask. The last time I was at an indoor performance sans mask was in early 2020. Shortly after that concert…well, the whole world knows the rest. It was a wonderful experience, not just because of the mask but because of today’s program. I’ll leave that for another post.