Of many things about this summer, what surprises me the most is the way my brain categorises memories. After learning that I’ve got a boyfriend, my dad seemed oddly affectionate towards me and my sister, always hugging and always reminding us that our family is a Tribe, never separated. One morning he came into the living room and said, shyly of course, why is it that we could easily exclaim love for somebody outside but never said that we loved him. Even now, back in Taiwan I think about this quite often, sometimes even guilty for finding happiness from somebody else not family. Was it the thought that we no longer depended on them as much anymore or was it because he thought it was foolish of us to waste love around?
Memories of my childhood comes in fragments, mom in front of the computer, dad driving the car, mom taking me clothes shopping, dad coming home every night checking on my video, us together eating dinner. Last summer at the airport entrance gate, we hugged goodbye, dad suddenly pulled me in and touched his lips to my forehead, it was no kiss but merely a brush of lips, a gentleman. Every men on earth was pure evil except daddy, according to him he was the role model and the last gentleman standing.