Showing the love, with the sweets, the memories the son carried now, of his own, father who worked hard, gave everything he had, to the family, translated…
The issues of whether or not Moringa Caramels are made from milk, after the press publicized the matter, it’d been, proven that the caramels, do contain milk, but, this incident reminded me of my father, if he were still living, he would be, ninety-two this year.
My father lost his own father at the age of three, in that era, it was, hard for a woman to go out to work, so, my single parent grandmother had it very hard, raising up her own three young, so she could only, give her youngest daughter, to a distant relative to raise up. As for my grandmother, and her other two sons—my older uncle and my dad, because my grandfather’s sister was kind enough, provided them with a small shack without a bathroom for the three of them to live under, until my grandmother passed, she still felt, too grateful, of how her youngest sister-in-law had given her a home.
In the New Years, my dad and his half eldest sister would buy two sets of brand new uniform for their youngest brother, and so, my dad felt nothing BUT respect toward his eldest half sister who’s thirty years senior. When I was little, I’d remembered how he would, always invite my aunt to come home to our house on the second of the New Years, and on the day, he’d always, waken up very early, rushed to the marketplaces, to buy a serving of fresh pork brains, and carefully, picked out the blood vessels off with a toothpick, then, cleared off the rest of the minor blood vessels, put a layer of ginger, and green onion, to reduce the smell, then, steamed the pork brain on low fire, then, served it, to my aunt. I’d once, tasted the soup from this dish, it tasted, so fresh. Thinking back, I could, still see my father, taking so much care and concern, cleaning out the pork brains as he’d, prepared it.
After he graduated elementary school, my dad started working as a child laborer in the glass factory, the heated up environment he’d, adapted to, which made him able to withstand the heat during the summers, with only just an electric fan. He’d often sold the records at a record store too, and knew a ton of Taiwanese tunes, until his elderly years, he’d, still hummed those tunes he’d picked up working in the record shops when he was younger……….
At about twenty-five, my father switched to working for a sales department, that sold off the makeup from the Japanese based company. Out of curiosity, I’d googled it online, and found, that this old brand is still, being sold, it’s all made-in-Taiwan! My father’s boss kept loving how hardworking and smart he was, taught him everything about exporting the goods, and encouraged him to strike out on his own.
Several years later, my father started working as a middleman in sales, came to Taipei’s back stations, to buy the wholesales goods. If the weather’s nice, he would bring along two huge bags worth of sample, taken the trains to the countryside’s smaller shops, to sell. At around two, three o’clock in the afternoon, he’d hauled those goodies back home again, and as he’d entered into the house, before he could take a breath, and sit himself down, my older brother and I rushed over to him, started searching his pant pockets, hoping we’d, find that box of, yellow-and-white packaged Moringa caramels.
And normally, the box of caramels had already been, opened up, with an extra coat of clear wrapping outside, with one, to two pieces missing from the whole box, my older brother and I, quickly opened up the box, and counted up how many were left, then, divided among ourselves, so none of us gets less than the other. Back then, we’d had NO idea how hard my father was working, with his bags of samples, underneath the heated sun, walking door-to-door, to sell the items, I suppose, he couldn’t, find an extra hand, to wipe off his sweat.
My father’s been gone for over twenty years now, and now, I really wanted to know the role this pack of Moringa caramel, was it because he couldn’t have time for lunch, that his glucose might be too low? Or maybe, he just, wanted to, ease his own boredom, transferring on the trains? Or, did he want to see my older brother and I, fight over it when he’d, brought it home?
From what I know of my father, perhaps, all three of these reasons are, valid!
And so, this, is how much this father loved his own young, he’d, given them everything he had, even though, it’s, very little, but, you can, feel the love between the father, and, the father grew up hard, and, he still, provided everything that his children needed, given them ALL he could, no matter how little he had, and that, is a good, fitting, father!