Ode to My Father

With Father's Day coming up, I hope everyone takes the opportunity to appreciate the good fathers who do what they can to support their families.  Appreciate them for filling their role in society.

My father, George Wong, died in 2010.  I've always been quite appreciative of his life.  The long hours in the restaurants growing up to support his family; teaching values of hard work and commitment are things that I hold dear every day of my life.  But I have to say he led quite the interesting life.

My dad was born in 1936 In Canton, China in the throes of the Japanese invasion prior to World War II.  The first years of my father’s life were simply one word: survival.  He grew up on a sugarcane-farming village.  His house had a weak bamboo roof that leaked consistently during rainstorms, where the humility left him with arthritic legs that would affect him the rest of his life.  His mother passed away from stomach cancer when he was a young boy.  

The Japanese invasion only made his life even more difficult.  To hide from the occupying forces, my dad and most of his family hid in a large sod hole (a la Saddam Hussein) for long periods of time.  I've seen the hole personally; it didn't look too comfortable of a living space.   However, one story about the Japanese invasion regarding my father is unforgettable.  The Japanese military found my great grandmother out in the open while my father was in hiding.  They asked my great grandmother where my father and his family were.  She refused to answer, so the Japanese killed her on the spot.  You can only imagine how my father felt about Japanese folks for the rest of his life.

My father was able to escape the poor conditions of China and come to America in 1946 on the USS Americana.  He was able to come based on his family connections in LA.  His first job in America was working in his uncle's restaurant, the Golden Inn. 

His time growing up was about labor, honor and commitment.  He never graduated high school.  He earned a GED, served 4 years in the Air Force and worked much of the rest of his life in the food business (restaurants and grocery stores) while finding a wife and supporting a family.  His success in business and in life is the epitome of the American Dream in my myopic opinion.

His commitment to work and family are unpatrolled in my myopic opinion.  Despite multiple health problems for the last third of his life, it didn’t stop him from working and fulfilling his commitment.  I found it interesting that the last restaurant he opened was also called the Golden Inn, which is still open today.

To say that’s proud to be my father’s son would be an understatement.  I am humbled that I knew him most of my life.  While I’m sorry to know that he wasn’t fully content at the end of his life on earth, I trust that it was in the Almighty’s will the he be taken care of in the Eternal Kingdom at that time.   Perhaps if the Almighty sees it be so, I’ll one day lie by my father on earth as well as stand with him in the Eternal Kingdom.

So I’ll just suggest that you say “Thanks” to your fathers if you have an opportunity, they are special folks indeed.