HCK
Hack. The phonetic name he chose in deference to the imbeciles at Immigration who had no hope of understanding or correctly pronouncing his given name. (He was and always has been the quintessential snob.)
“By Asian standards you are rude –understandable because you don’t know any better. –HCK, 20 April 2011”
Elegant. Charming. Original. Eccentric. Genius. Fierce. Proud. Stubborn. Loyal. Mystic. Recluse. Gourmet.
He didn’t refer to us as his children, but his descendants, my six brothers, two sisters, and I. We are his descendants, and we collectively have six sons and four daughters, who in turn have three sons and two daughters. We are his tribe, we are his clan. In this he died a very wealthy man.
I’m starting to recognize my interesting and difficult personality is in many ways shaped by his. I often wished that we could have had a better relationship, any relationship for that matter, but as well I can see that the very things that prohibited any sense of closeness are the things that contribute to the strength of who I am today.
From him I learned an appreciation for the finer things in life; the best cup of tea, daffodils, garden fresh food, bone china, crystal, good leather, hard bound books. Despite our poverty, he was impeccably dressed and always elegant, with a timeless sense of style.
From him I learned the joy of culinary adventures with exotic and intense explosions of flavor like kimchee, curry, and wasabi.
I hope the last moments were without fear or terror. I hope he went peacefully.
I hope my brothers and sisters are mourning him gently, that their farewells are peaceful and without regret. I hope the same for his brothers and sisters.
I’ve missed him most of my life, and now he’s gone forever.
My dad.
7 March 1926 – 19 May 2011
RIP
