Love Isn't Something You Teach

Dedicated to: Mom and Dad

Ok, so before anyone goes ahead and assumes this is a mushy, gushy entry, it's not. It'll definitely make your insides get all warm and fuzzy though :) 

...Somehow that image makes me think of little smerfs...ANYWAYS, I digress.

A few events this weekend inspired me to write this post. I think it is important to let you guys know something I discovered in terms of the love shared by the kid(s) and his or her parents. It's not something you teach, but something that dates back to the cave man period when everyone was pretty much in loincloths, dirt, and grime. Even with it's long history, parental love isn't something read in a book, but a unique phenomenon that occurs when a man or woman becomes a parent. A secret switch or power, if you will, is awakened, called love. 

We know that love comes in many forms, but I think one of the most unique kinds of love is the love our parents have for us. It's pure, honest, raw, and even annoying at times. I'm going to talk about this love in the perspective of my own parents through the events I mentioned before.

This coming Tuesday, I'll be participating in an undergraduate research symposium that is basically an event that allows students to show and present their research projects for the possibility of earning a monetary reward. My presentation is in the form of a poster, which I printed out last Friday. Now, I didn't have to bring it home, but I decided to because I wanted to show my parents what it looked like since they will not be able to attend the symposium. When I told my parents I had brought home the project, they were quite happy because they had been upset in not having the time to come and see my project at the event.  I proceeded to tell them about my project, pointing out the important and more interesting portions.

My parents never had the opportunity to attend college in the US or their home country for that matter, which makes it difficult for them to understand English at times. I could tell that they were trying really hard to understand what I was telling them, and even though they did not understand everything, they showed a great deal of interest and even asked me questions about the project.  The fact that they were truly interested in what I was saying, but didn't understand everything and asked questions anyways, really touched me. All these years, they've supported me in my goals and have recently been more open in terms of my career possibilities, especially the ones in regards to working with the State Department and other careers of that nature. This growth of understanding has been more than a gift to me, it's giving me a better chance to be somebody in the world, which is priceless. This morning, before I left for campus, I realized I didn't have a proper container to hold my poster and protect it from the elements. My dad quickly went out to the garage and came back in with some pieces of cardboard.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm going to make you a container to hold your poster." (he takes out the yard stick and measures away)

In less than thirty minutes, my dad made me a 36" long, rectangular container to put my poster in. 

"Dad, you didn't have to do this, thanks Dad."

"Of course, no problem." (he gives me a hug and walks away like making the container was nothing)

As I'm sitting in the car getting ready to leave, I can't help but think about how lucky I am. My mom stands by the car and smiles with a wave, while I pull out of the garage. She doesn't leave the garage doorway until I've driven out of sight.

All this time, my parents have never acted unfairly toward me or my brother. Never once have they acted stereotypically Asian and said I couldn't hang out with my friends because I needed to "do homework." And even when I've failed at something, never once had they said "I told you so" making me feel more humiliated. Helping me fix my mistakes has been enough to humble and teach me the importance of humiliation. I think me and my brother both owe a great deal to my parents. But, I think I'm beating my brother at the moment on the whole "I owe you guys thing."  My parents probably don't think me or my brother owe them, but taking care of them in the future is the least I can do, and if I ever decide to have my own kids, I can only hope to be half as amazing as my parents.   

Thanks Mom, Dad.