The Awkwardness Between a Father and a Daughter

Allowing her father to be by himself to grieve for the loss of his wife, the thoughtfulness of a daughter, translated…

Don’t know how the families coped with the death of a member of the families, how do they comfort one another?

A while ago, my Facebook pages reviews of the past had a “news” of about four years ago, when my mother just passed. Back then, my mother just died, and my father was calling up everyone to tell them of the funeral arrangements, and, some of their friends only learned of my mother’s death as they came to pay their final respects. I’d heard how hard my father was trying not to cry, thinking, “I should leave, so he can cry it all out with his friends”. And so, I’d found an excuse, to take Mimi Chou out, and a few hours later as we’d returned, I saw that he looked like he’d been, crying.

That was the only comfort I can give to him. These couple of years, we’d never spoken of how we both felt, right before my mother passed away, but we could both talk to our friends about it. Like talking about our emotions with each other, we’d, become, short of words, and we can only use our different ways, to remember mom, or to adjust how there’s, one less person in the house.

Sometimes, as one of us touched this subject, there’s this, overflowing silence that took over. Once, Mimi Chou told me, “Grandpa left a mung bean pastry for you, that you should go and eat it up.” I’d told her, “But I don’t like the mung bean pastry.” Mimi Chou reported it to her grandfather, but grandpa insisted, “Your mother loved it, tell her to come and eat it up.” And, after a few times, I couldn’t help but tell him, “Dad, the one who loved the mung bean pastries is mom, I enjoyed the egg yolk pastry.”

Suddenly, silence took over, I’d started crying, don’t know if he had too, then, we’d returned to our separate rooms. The moment I’d, blurted it out, I was in regret—why did I mention mom? Just pretend that it was my favorite and eat it!

A little over six months after my mother’s passing, my father moved in with my younger brother, I took the items that he and my mom used their whole lives, moved to Hualien, the items were huge in number, that later on, my neighbors told me, “You’d caused a lot of commotions in the community”. It took me a lot of time to sort through it all, the items I’d not needed, I’d, donated it to the thrift shops, as I got to that black Phantom of the Opera mug my mother used regularly, I’d, become hesitant, I didn’t want to get rid of it, but I don’t want to get reminded of her whenever I saw the mug. After struggling long and hard, I’d, decided, to donate it, several weeks later, my father came, and at breakfast one morning, he’d inquired, “Where’s that mug your mother used.”

“Oh,”, I’d steadied myself, replied, “I’d donated it to the thrift shops, there’s too many things in the house.” He’d not said another word, but that very afternoon, he’d asked me, “Where’s that thrift shop? I want to get a mug for here.”

I’d taken him there, and, at the area where the mugs were displayed, he’d looked long and hard, as I saw a similar one that my mother had used, but it wasn’t, to check out, I must admit, that was, one of the most regrettable moment in my life. But I didn’t apologize, I don’t know how to say “I’m sorry”, fearing, that facing the matter will cause us both, to show how much we actually missed mom out. Actually, dad didn’t keep too many items of mom’s, but perhaps, some things, some details, nobody outside will ever know or understand. I thought dad used the same “don’t see it” strategies as I had, without knowing, there were, specific rules of which he’d followed.

A year later, I wrote a card to him, didn’t mention any of this, but I’d told him, that I was so in loss of my mother’s death, not realizing that they were once together, and not just my parents. He’d written back, simply stated, “I understand.”

And, on how we’d both acted, I am, my father’s daughter completely.

So, this woman and her father grieved over the loss of the mother and wife using similar methods, and, the daughter knew that her father wasn’t used to showing his emotions, and gave him time to himself, to mourn for the loss of his wife, that, was the kindness of a daughter toward her own father’s needs.