Perry Family 2014

My Okinawan Mother-in-Law

After nit-picking my wife for more details I was able to jot down a rough outline about a few of 

the things regarding my mother-in-law. I posted it on HubPages with a link here to read it.

Survived the Battle of Okinawa, survived WW2 Japanese military occupation, 
helped to rebuild Okinawa, 1st born child taken from her, dialysis, 
meeting her granddaughter from her missing daughter 
minutes before she passed away.

From Okinawa With Love

Time flies when you’re having fun. Over two weeks while Mika was visiting her family in Okinawa it has been like a summer camp here. While our two boys were still out of school for the holidays we all slept late, played video games all day long while eating fast foods, microwave foods and assorted junk foods as potato chips, candies and ice cream. Then Mika called saying she was boarding the plane to come home. Party’s over.

To be more honest, we did clean up the house and took care of a few errands such as getting the boys a haircut. Which by the way their hair grows means that I have a couple of months before they need another one. The boys were looking fun for their mother coming home. I rented a car to pick her up at Dulles Airport due to the fact that I didn’t want to use my car.

The way the boys kept asking everyday on when Mommy was coming home, I decided to take them out of school for the day so they could be at the airport with me when she came home. We had a really great time. They played with the Nintendo DS games while I listened to Classic Rock. We drank and ate junk foods while the boys from time to time counted down the miles we had to drive by monitoring the mile markers by the roadway.

Getting to Washington DC was easier this time. Still lots of traffic but this time it was moving at a decent speed. The roadways are amazing. While the roads were jam packed with cars and trucks, the toll roads were nice and empty. And seeing that Washington DC area is technically in the South, nobody really paid any attention to the speed limit signs.  

Once at the airport, the boys had a field day. Free Wi-Fi so they could use their DS’s and a front row seat to watch their mother come out of customs.  That is until an army of other people waiting for their love ones started to stand along the walkway. It looked like a Hollywood premiere with movie stars walking the red carpet as fans loved them on. In this case it was more magical.

When Mika came out of customs I got the boys attention and we quickly met up with her. Our youngest boy didn't waste time in wanting to hug his mother.  Didn't matter she was holding two carry-ons while pulling her suitcase. But I grabbed the suitcase while she held onto her son. Everyone around us just watched them hug as he kept saying ‘I missed you mommy’. Over and over he kept saying this. Finally we had to leave and so our five hour trip began.

One of the biggest things I learned while driving south of 95 highway through Richmond, Virginia was to stay in the far left lane. I came upon an on-ramp where two lanes of traffic was merging into one lane as they exited onto 95 highway and then took the very next exit off of 95 highway along with other cars on 95 highway wanting to exit off that same ramp. Richmond, Virginia is a NASCAR training ground for learning how to avoid accidents and crazy drivers who do not know how to use turn signals when charging over two lanes of traffic.

Two bathroom breaks, a traffic jam and a food stop later and we were finally home again. Mika opened her suitcase and produced lots of candies for the boys and me to eat. The next day we picked up the packages Mika mailed to us more of her personnel belonging from Okinawa plus more Okinawan foods and Go-Buster toys.  I got a t-shirt plus lots of pictures and video’s. But most importantly was that I got my wife back.

My Mother-In-Law's Funeral

My sister-in-law sent us pictures from the funeral of my mother-in-law. 

Death In The Family

Kazuko Fukuhara 

Saturday night was a long night for us. My wife’s mother Kazuko, who lives in Okinawa, has been going to the hospital for Dialysis treatment. Recently the Doctor found blood in her stool and urine. In order to fix that problem she would have to stop her dialysis treatment. The Doctor was doing his best but with her age and health, it was only a matter of time.

She slept a lot. Her hearing was starting to go. Family, Doctor and Nurses had to talk real loud so she could hear them. She would barely eat anything. My sister-in-law Sonoko and a few other relatives were constantly by her side.

On Saturday night, our time, she woke up very suddenly. She wanted to talk to my wife Mika and so Sonoko called us from her cell phone. With both phones on speaker mode we were giving words of encouragements to her. Due to Kazuko’s hearing problem my two boys were yelling “I Love You” into the phone. The entire room at the hospital was filled with the sound of two boys cheering up their grandmother.

She was very weak but she acknowledged that she heard us. We said goodbye to Sonoko thinking that Kazuko would rest for the rest of the day. We were wrong. Two minutes later Sonoko called again. Seconds after Sonoko got off the phone with us, Kazuko smiled and passed away on August 18, 2012 11:31 AM Japan Time.  (August 17, 2012 10:31 PM Eastern Standard Time) She was 81 years old.

She lived through the Battle of Okinawa during World War Two. As all forms of records and identification were destroyed in the war, she was mistakenly giving a different date of birth as many forms were quickly being filled out after the war. She remembers Okinawa being transformed from a barren wasteland, due to the war, to having huge metropolitan cities all over the island. 

My Kingdom Of Heaven

I survived another family vacation again. But this time I claimed a partial victory in showing my kids where I spent my youth at but a failure in showing myself on how old I have become. Either way, speaking as a father, I was still the pack mule while everyone else was having fun. And I wouldn’t change one moment of it.

This vacation I took the family to a place where my grandparents use to live at, a place where my older brother graduated high school and life was perfect, Surf City located on Topsail Island in North Carolina. A lot has changed over the years but the people there are still the nicest I have ever met. For the best of my memory goes, my life before school and every summer vacation until the mid-1970’s was spent living on this island.

Back in those days, it was a place where many military people lived. Those stationed at Camp Lajeune would make this island their home that even today there are as many Marine flags as there are American flags waving from the homes on this island. Constant helicopters and airplanes fly over the area so close at times that we could see the pilot was waving at my two boys who were waving at the aircraft.

Early 1970.

I was playing in the sand area at my grandparents’ home and getting a little bored. I went inside and ask permission to go to the beach and play by the water. She said OK and off I walked a block away, crossing two sets of roads and over a sand dune to where I played for a few hours making sand castles and frog holes (that when you cover your foot in sand, pat it down and remove your foot to produce a make shift cave). A man came up to me to informed me that my grandmother wanted me to go home now to which I did.

With tourist and locals on the island there was no fear of one’s life being in danger. With so much military presents and everyone knowing everyone there was a strong since of a family bond. If I did something wrong, my family would know about it before I even got home. Back then, I as everyone my age will tell you, manners was everything. There was no back talking; always a yes sir or no sir, yes ma’am or no ma’am. No one locked their car doors. Windows were kept rolled down. Houses were never really locked up at night as the doors stayed opened during the day.

Today.

If all that happened today, there would be outrage of mass proportions. I would be placed in a foster home and my grandmother would be in jail. We both would be tested for drug use as I would be cursing at anything that moved. Cars would be stolen as houses would have been robbed of everything. But not here on Topsail Island. The people here are still nice and understanding as ever.

The island doesn’t have all the bells and whistles other major beaches have. It has all the shops for your beach needs. No major waves for surfing just the beach, ocean and sea shells. It has fishing piers for fishing with sea food restaurants galore accompanied by a few fast food places like Hardees, McDonalds, Domino’s Pizza and subways. There is a Food Lion on the mainland and an IGA store that has been on the island since the dawn of time.

My grandmother worked at a diner located on the right just before you crossed the swinging bridge to go onto the island. There was a jukebox by the door and a TV hanging on the wall. It had a long counter top bar with plenty of tables for the many customers that came here to eat. I always had a plate full of french fries and a large glass of sweet tea that today my two boys have inherited that from me.

My grandfather (papa as I called him) worked at the Ideal Cement plant. It’s now under a different name. A few times he took me there to do some fishing but I was always amazed at the size of the vehicles he would drive. The tires alone were huge. I clearly remember climbing inside one of these tires that was on the ground, sitting up inside of it as my head never touched the top part of the tire. I wanted to take it home with me but he gave me a ride inside the vehicles instead.

Ladders were used just to reach the door to get inside the vehicle or the at least to another ladder that was welded onto the vehicle. He would at times take me for a ride in these vehicles. Scary at first but I really loved it later on. Binoculars were in every vehicle and I could clearly see the huge holes in the ground that my papa had mined out. And some of these holes were filled with water as a make shift fish farm as many employees came here on a Sunday afternoon to do a bit of fishing.

My brother, 12 years older than me, was to me a bit bossy back then. But then again, he was a teenager. He would come home from school, do his homework then disappear for hours at a time, mainly fishing on the Surf City pier. On the weekends he would do night time fishing on the pier. There was a small building at the end of the pier as people would take turns getting a few minutes of sleep during the night.

I use to go with my grandmother early in the morning to carry my brother something to eat as we carried home the fish he had caught during the night. One time the pier collapsed after a hurricane came through. I still remember the diner was still open for business as people took turns looking out the door to the pier to see the ocean just below them. But very quickly the pier was rebuilt and life returned to normal again.

My brother would have to baby sit me at times which meant many trips to a part of the island near the military base. There was a concrete platform as many teenagers would climb onto it to get a better look at the base. Bon fires were lit as alcohol was greatly consumed. For me it was Dr. Pepper. My brother drinks it and so do I. That’s what little brothers are supposed to do.

My job back then was to watch TV and play in the sand by the house or on the beach. My favorite TV shows were Beat the Clock, Search, Ironside, The Six Million Dollar Man and S.W.A.T to name a few. This was my kingdom of heaven. This is what I wanted to show my kids by connecting them to my life on a deeper level.

 I just forgot to take away their Nintendo DS’s in order to create that bonding experience with them.

My Generation

My generation is the greatest of them all. That’s what every person has been saying about their own generation for as long as time itself. Recently when I went on a school field trip with my youngest son I was able to really see the difference between both our generations. The luxury’s he takes for granted now was unknown technology when I was his age. I once suggested to my two boys that they should live one day with the technology I use to have. They fled to their mother almost in tears saying I was torturing them. Eventually she stopped laughing.

A long time ago before Wal-Mart and Target invaded America there was a small department chain called Maxway. It was clothing, arcade center, toys, electronics, food, auto and more; a mini version of what Wal-Mart is today. My mother was the assistant manager at one of these stores in Zebulon, North Carolina. And I was spoiled by nearly all the new technologies that were coming out during the 70’s and 80’s.

I got to play all the new arcade games for free when my mother closed up the store at nights. She would open the panel door so I could keep playing. When they did night time inventory, she would let me stay overnight in the store so I could play all the arcade games. I held all the top ten spots on all the machines. When the Atari game system came out she would bring it home at nights so I could play it then take it back to work with her the next day.

They used to rent out the VCR player when it first came out, as well as the movies to watch; a precursor to Blockbuster Videos. You had to pay a $100 deposit that was given back to you when you returned the VCR unit but not for me. The best part was that a lot of the movies that were coming out on VHS tapes during this time were B rated movies with lots of nudity and violence. And I got to watch every one of those movies for years without having to pay.

But time moves on as the place now sits empty. The store was split into two different shops as one is a Dollar General Store and the other one still sits empty right next to a Piggly Wiggly store. But at one time, this place was the busiest store for miles with the latest tech toys and games. I bought the very first water proof Walkman cassette player. I got first pick of all the new Transformers, GI Joe and Voltron toys before they went to the shelf. I had the best childhood ever.

Now my kids have a gaming system that does things that was considered science fiction when I was there age. My wife’s MP3 player is smaller than my thumb. My computer talks to my TV and cell phone more than I do. My satellite receiver can copy over 100 hours of programs with a trigabit of extra storage space of over hundreds of channels for me to choose from. Cellphones working like mini computers that can turn cars on or off as it orders pizza for you. So many different forms of technology to make everyone live a more joy-filled life.

I know my son loves being a kid, taking for granted things that weren’t even invented when I was his age. He feels like he’s in heaven but I still feel like I had the greatest childhood. Because with all the technologies that I grew up with, the biggest joy I had was getting out of the house and exploring the woods behind my house on foot or on my bike. Something I feel many kids nowadays lacks.

Vacation (with kids)

One of the great joys parents have while on vacation is the long trips, whether it’s by plane or car, they share with their children. Especially with the constant updates on the arrival and departure times; “Are we there yet?” or “Can we go home now?” But recently during the family vacation I did not have the luxury of these “helpful” updates from my two boys. Mainly due to a recent invention that keeps them as quiet as a mouse, the Nintendo DS system. Once I purchased this item for them, they stop being so helpful in making sure the next vacation never happens again.

Each with their Nintendo DS as both are constantly plugged into the cigarette lighter so they stay fully charged, they stayed glued to those little screen games during the long hours of car travel time. It is so quiet now that my wife and I can actually have a conversation about what we want to talk about. Not that I don’t care about Sponge Bob.

As the vacation was coming to an end, we got a hotel for the final night so we could be well refreshed and home by the afternoon the next day. But which hotel to choose from out of the many that was all planted together along the road. They all looked like a puppy at the pet store; “Pick me” “No pick me”. I chose one based on the rumblings of my stomach and parked the car at the hotel next door to a Wendy’s, which also happened to be the only fast food place anywhere nearby.

It is the Marriott Residence Inn that made my kids and wife wished we took our vacation there instead. We got the two bedroom with kitchenette suite. Each bedroom had its own bathroom and TV set. As soon as we got settled in, the boys automatically picked out the room they wanted and crashed on the bed with the TV set on Cartoon Network and their heads buried into their Nintendo DS’s. Not a peep out of them for hours.

It was heaven. My wife disappeared into our own bathroom for a nice long soak in the tub, boys in their room playing games and I’m in the living room watching TV while stretched out on the couch. Dinner time we simply walked over to Wendy’s, had a great dinner. Picked up some grocery items the hotel sells in the lobby and back in our hotel room a short time later. The next day as we were packing up and leaving, both boys and my wife want to come back to this place for our next vacation, which we most defiantly will.

This vacation cost a pretty penny but finding such a wonderful place to where we can still be in a hotel room and still keep some sort of privacy was a blessing. Also the Nintendo’s did help out greatly. If only the hotel which gave us free internet access didn’t keep cutting off on us all the time.

Proof The World Is Coming To An End

But yet it’s my fault

Friday morning as I am about 25 miles (40 kilometers) from home at work, my wife calls me. Crying and on the verge of losing her sanity as she described to me of a great crisis threating her. There was a water leak under the kitchen sink. And so I took the time to calm her down as I realize that my day was going to be a long one.

Under the sink, the floor area was wet as the sound of rushing water could be heard. As she endeavored to place the phone under the sink for me to hear it, I could only hear her getting more frustrated by the second. She had already taken everything out from underneath the sink and was looking all around for the leak.

I asked her repeatedly if there was a valve of any kind under the sink. At this point I must say that I myself don’t know what’s under the sink. The only time I look under there is when I have to get a trash bag. So as she is looking at the pipe work for a shut-off valve I began to learn more ways to curse in Japanese. And so I took her word that there was no shut-off valve there but that it must be under the house.

And since she is not the type of person to go crawling under there, she did made arrangements for the plumbers to come out as quick as they could to fix it. I went back to work with constant updates of how many towels she had to use so far with most of the back wall becoming very soggy and falling apart. Not to mention a blanket or two to keep the water pouring all over the floor. Never have I’ve been so scared to answer my cell phone.

But I got through the day and by the time I reached home after 6 PM, the plumbers were already there fixing the problem. A small pin-hole leak. After they left I looked at the water damage as well as the repair work. And what I say next would have led me on an odyssey of curse words, name calling and utter frustration. 

Directly under the kitchen sink was the water cut-off valve. I did quickly point this out to her. And after a demonstration that moving the lever would have prevented so much water damage underneath the sink area.

She quickly tried to change the subject. Going so far as to say that the level was hard to operate. I could see her point. The level only moves in one direction to turn the water off and the other way to turn it back on. Finally she played the female card. Stating that I should have left work and came home to take care of this family crisis. The house that she has raises our two boys is falling apart because I had something better else to do. 

So I played the man card. I just said “Whatever” and walk away.

Merry Christmas

Anniversary Lunch (from Heaven)

'Golden Sakura' located in Wake Forest, North Carolina

The day was like magic. We got both boys off to their first day of school without a problem leaving a couple to celebrate their 16^th wedding anniversary. So what did we do first? We took off the trash and got everything ready for Hurricane Irene’s visit. By lunchtime I took my wife to a Japanese restaurant, Golden Sakura, located in Wake Forest, North Carolina. 

They just opened for lunch as we were seated at the table where they would be cooking our Hibachi style lunch. No one else was coming in at this time had allowed us to be treated to a private lunch as our meal was prepared by a Teppanyaki chef. He treated us to a private show of his acrobatic skills with the cooking utensils. He juggled them all around him; flipping them high into the air as he majestically catches them with the other utensil. He had eggs dancing in midair before splitting in half as the complete contents fell onto the grill with the shell still hanging onto the spatula.

The most entertaining part was as the food was cooking; he took half an onion and arranged it into a volcano shape. Pouring cooking oils inside and lighting it gave us a wonderful show of a flame shooting out of this creation. Looking like the booster rocket of the space shuttle at liftoff as we felt the heat being emitted from it. The smell of the food being cooked was filling the room as my wife and I were the only ones present watching this Master Chef orchestrated all the different foods throughout the table.

As our expensive plates were filled with this wonderful decoration we then proceeded to feast. A wonderful meal it was as my wife and I enjoyed a wonderful conversation that so many parents lack due to the lack of time and privacy. This was our first conversation in a long time with no interruptions from our kids.  We actually had an adult conversation and it felt great. By the time we finished the meal we felt like the whole world had been lifted from us. All the burdens, stresses and built up tensions were gone.

We journeyed to a few other places before heading home to await our kids return from school. All the time we felt twenty years younger and more alive. That day was like a gift from heaven. A private meal, wonderful entertainment and an actual conversation not related to some kind of toy or video game. We plan to visit this place again in the future as 

Wedding Anniversary

Once again we made it through another year of ups and downs to celebrate another wedding anniversary. Our first wedding was in Seoul Korea on this date during an approaching Typhoon. To legalize the wedding for American laws we held another wedding ceremony one year later in Reno, Nevada.

Seoul, Korea 1995 

Reno, Nevada 1996

Home Cooking

My son wanted to see if he could cook. Everything went great even though he forgot to add water to his microwavable macaroni and cheese.

Angry Birds

We are addicted to playing the Angry Birds game. So much so that my two sons play against each other on who get the highest score the quickest. Once they found out about the $70 stuffed animals of these things I drew the line on getting them. But once we saw the display of these things at Wal Mart I was outvoted on buying these things. My wife thinks these are the most adorable think right next to those little RODY's she collects from Japan.

Son of SPAM

My son is an Okinawan.

His mother is an Okinawan. His father, that’s me, is an American with my lineage going back to Scottish, Irish and Portuguese descent. But with our oldest son, he has clearly shown his connection to his Okinawan (Ryukyu) heritage.

A little back story. After WW2 there was no food for the Okinawans to eat mainly because the entire islands had been destroyed by Americans and Japanese forces. All food supplies coming into Okinawa were from the American side. Being wartime, the Okinawans were eating the same foods that the American military were eating. And the meat was Spam. And now more SPAM is sold more in Okinawa than probable anywhere else in the world. It’s the main food dish after pork and fish.

And my son has taken to eating Spam like it was a gift from God himself. Just tell him that he’ll be eating Spam for dinner, his eyes get all big as a huge smile covers his face as he squeals in excitement. He even love eating Okinawan noodles rather than the Japanese style noodle. Luckily the only Japanese store in the Raleigh, North Carolina area is operated by an Okinawan family that makes sure that many Okinawan foods are sold there.

He also loves practicing Karate on his little brother which is a martial art that was developed in Okinawa. If he’s not drop kicking his brother or trying to break boards they are both sword fighting with their replica swords.  He loves talking about going to Okinawa to enjoy the beaches and seeing his much older female cousins. In time after saving up for the trip, as with winning the lottery, we may be able to afford to take the whole family to Okinawa for a family reunion. Until then we keep sending and receiving care packages from home.

Until then we’ll keep buying Spam in large bulk quantity.

My Dad

My father gave me the most important advice that I still use today. And he doesn’t even realize it nor the opportunity to see how I turned out in life. Throughout my life he was the most influential person in my life. And I didn't even know it.

Many years before I was born my parents had a very difficult marriage. My father worked with the Department of Transportation building road systems up and down North Carolina along the Interstate 95 Highway connecting many towns and cities to each other. He would drink a lot and vent his frustrations upon my mother and my brother who is 12 years older than me and eventually my sister who is 7 years older than me. Eventually my brother moved in with our grandparents, on our mother’s side, who lived at Surf City, North Carolina.

Our grandfather worked at a local rock quarry and grandmother worked at a diner just before you cross the bridge onto Topsail Island. When he graduated high school my grandfather finally retired and they all moved to be closer to their family. By then my sister moved in with them to keep from being verbally abused by our father. A few years later I was born and my father looked like he was mellowing out a bit. That is until I was four years old.

I don’t remember what was being said or fully understand the situation at the time but my life after that night 

became different. I was in my parents’ bedroom as they argued and exchanged words back and forth. Many loud and explicit words all the while as my dad were packing a suitcase. They dropped me off at my grandmother’s, on my father side, while they drove away. I looked forward to stay with my grandmother for I had my own chair next to a window where I could watch cars drive by or see the deer walk around the fields.

But that night as they dropped me off there was a huge thunderstorm coming in and as I watched them drive away I could see lots of lightning and heavy rain from the window. My grandmother told me that my dad was moving away and wasn’t coming home again. Later on I learned that he was having an affair and once my mother found out about it pretty much killed the marriage. My mother was carrying him to live with her as she stayed a few days to sort things out for herself.

For many years after that I seldom saw him unless he visited my grandmother. I do remember riding on a motorcycle as we drove through a few fields and on the open road. No helmets at all. But primarily I would hear my mother refer to him as in a very frank and demeaning way. As a child growing up I would honestly take it as fact and viewed him the same way. I did spend a few weekends from time to time with him and his new wife but we never really did anything together.

We watched TV without talking to each other. And if we did go somewhere I was treated as luggage. To paint a better picture of this, his wife, the other woman, had a pug dog that she worship the ground he walked on. The dog ate before I did, he was given toys and spoiled rotten and when we drove around or did anything that resembled a family outing, I had to ride in the back of the enclosed pickup truck that smelled like animal vomit and diesel fuel. All because that dog might hurt himself back there. All the while I was holding back my vomit.

The last time I was with his was a weekend I was more than anxious to be with him. We were going fishing out on a boat. I counted the days until that Saturday morning when he and one of his fishing buddies picked me up and we headed for a lake near Middlesex, North Carolina. We got all the gear out and onto the boat and then all of what love I had for him died moments later. He handed me a fishing pole, bait and a couple of dollars for breakfast when the convenient store opened up. Then they went out onto the lake and out of view.

An elementary school kid playing around a bridge by the road as other fishermen were going by inquiring as to why I was all by myself. Only to receive the same warning as to stay clear of the road as they themselves journeyed out unto the lake. The store opened up as I survived on junk food and soda until evening time when they returned from fishing. They caught plenty of fish and in short time I was home in a most grumpy and foul mood. I never saw him again for years after that day.

The years leading up to that fishing trip with my brother and sister, we would visit him every Christmas Eve as we gave him presents and he’ll open them  and set them aside. To the best of my memory I never received any form of gifts from him except for some pocket money for me to feed myself. As much as my mother and grandparents pushed me, it became clear that I was never going to see that man again. And it stayed true for many years until one Sunday afternoon I was with my brother and sister as we went to the hospital in Wilson, North Carolina as I was told by my brother, to visit a friend of his.  

Once inside the hospital my brother told me the real reason we were there. Our dad was there for surgery on both of his knees. Reluctantly I went with him. In the hospital room the TV was on a basketball game and I didn’t even look at my dad the whole time while many family and friends came in to visit. I just focused on the game on TV and zoned out all the other events going on in the room. And I hate basketball.

When it came time to leave, my brother and sister said their goodbyes as they left the room. I went up to him, noticing the condition he was in and without a thought in my head or for that matter any emotions connecting me to this man, I proceeded to do something I have never done before. Even to this day I still don’t know what came over me and chalked it up to an out of body experience or possession if you will. But looking at him in the hospital bed I leaned over to him and gave him a huge hug.

As my brother and sister were in the hallway waiting we began to leave when my sister forgot her purse and went to retrieve it. Minutes later she came back crying. My brother thought dad had said something to her. She said that when she went back to his room dad was crying his eyes out. And he told her what I had done and it became clear at that moment that this was perhaps the first time we actual hugged each other. It was also the first time I saw my brother in shock but all the while I wanted to simply go home.

Time moves on and eventually dad gets a divorce and another wife. And I find myself living in California and other parts of the world. Eventually my mother who has mellowed a bit towards my dad informed me that he is dying. He had cancer that was eating away at his body and was given a few more months to live. Eventually I called him and we talked for a while. Nothing serious just regular chit chats with once again as we said our goodbyes over the phone I told him that I loved him. After I hung up the phone I just sat puzzled for a long time trying to figure out why I said that and  chalked it up to a slip of the tongue.  A few weeks later he died.

I felt nothing. My supervisor was going to give me time to go to the funeral but I turned him down. I didn’t cry or get emotional in any way. My friends though that I was grieving in private but in reality I just forgot everything about him and went on with my life with no regrets or feelings towards him. That is until I got married that eventually put my whole life on a collision course back with my dad.

Like in the irony of life or whatever you want to call it, I have the same name as my dad. But I never used that name. Instead I only went by my middle name Doug until my wife forced me to go by my first name. We met through a close personal friend and very quickly we found ourselves getting married in Korea in August 1995 just as a typhoon was getting ready to hit the country. Eventually she went back to Japan and I to America where we proceeded with the immigration paper work. Another adventure in of itself.

Until she could move legally to America we corresponded frequently through letters and occasional phone calls. She always addressed me by my first name as did her entire family. I was being slowly programed by a rather large Okinawan family in getting used to being called by that name. And as we started our family life together she would always call me by that name. And one day as we were together it hit me as to what was happening to me. I was living my life by using my dad as a model.

To be more exact, what my dad did to my mother and his kids I did the opposite. I chose to live my life in being nothing like his. I refused to drink alcohol. I kept manners and helped out whenever I could. I even enjoyed giving gifts to friends and donating money and time to strangers. Becoming nothing like my dad in the way he raised me or my brother and sister. As I became a dad myself, I forced myself to really provide for my family. To take care of their needs and provided a home to where my kids would be proud to call me dad.

And one day as me and my youngest son are walking around Wal Mart looking for the rest of the family, my son casually and openly say that I was a great dad. Needless to say a lot of emotions started bubbling to the surface. I tell my wife what he said and they all agree that I’m doing a good job as a husband and dad. I accomplished this on-the-job task by the way I saw my dad raise us. How he treated us and provided nothing like a father should for his family made me want to be nothing like him.

Many years later I find myself looking towards my dad as being the best teacher in my life. He taught me to be nothing like him. To not make the same mistakes he made. Creating regrets and to die lonely and far removed for your true family. What would my life have been like if I lived a life similar to his? Would I be drunk all the time or have been to bed with lots of women catching who knows what diseases going around today.

I looked to my dad as an example of what not to do throughout my whole life as someone I wanted to be nothing like or have anything to do with a type of person like him. As I am married with kids I see that I did learn a lot from my dad.  Who showed me what small mistakes look like when they grow too large. How casual sex can destroy so many people.

Even the woman my dad had an affair with whom he later married left him for someone else. And the next woman he married letted him waste away as he was slowly dying just so she could get his insurance money. My dad was a living example of what not to do. He educated me by example and it only costed him a family. I know there were a lot of things he wanted to sayto me the last time we talked. The cancer had made him very weak and he couldn’t say it but as I look at my own kids I can envision everything he wanted to say.

He died before I got married as he never got a chance to see her or his grandchildren. I doubt he made it to heaven. Hopefully somewhere other than hell but wherever he may be, I hope he know that I now love him.

Melvin Perry

My Son is a Republican

The other day my son wanted to go to Wal Mart to buy a DS game using money he had saved up. After picking out his game we went to pay for it. He was surprised by the amount of taxes added to the price of the game. As I was explaining the purpose of taxes to my son, the cashier added a little bit more to the conversation that almost ended us being kicked out of the store.

I was trying to keep it simple for an 11 year old by simply saying the taxes we pay go towards paying service men, police, firemen as well as fixing the roads. The cashier added into our conversation the importance of the welfare system. This caused my son to get an angry feeling about him. As the cashier explained more about people who get paid money every month from the government which led my curious son to ask questions? 

This is part of their conversation

Son: Don’t they have a job?

Cashier: No.

Son: Don’t they want to work?

Cashier: Why work when they get paid not to.

Son: So my taxes pay people not to work

Cashier: Well, yeh.

Son: That’s stupid. It’s my money. I want to help firemen. My cousin is a fireman.

Cashier: Well you just don’t understand how things work in life.

Son: They need to fix it.

Cashier: It can’t be done.

Son: Stupid waste of my money.

Cashier: Well if you don’t like it then that’s tough.

Son: I’m going to spend my money where it’s not wasted.

Cashier: I think you need to be quiet and leave now.

Me: You did put your two cents into our conversation so…

Cashier: Do I need to call the manager to have you thrown out of this store?

Me: Good luck with that.

She called the manager up front like we were criminals. We already had our receipt as the manager wanted to know what was going on. I played it cool and allowed my son to talk. He basically said the cashier wanted my tax money to pay welfare people instead of my cousin who is with the fire department. I told the manager the cashier kept talking about supporting the welfare system. The situation didn’t get too out of hand because an unexpected event took place.

One of my cousins was already in the store doing a fire inspection of the building, saw us and as we said our hellos, the manager looked like he wanted to hide under a rock. He apologized for the cashier who looked like she wanted to bit nails as my cousin, son and I left the store. I told him everything that had happened and we all had a good laugh except my son who was still upset that the taxes he paid on his game was going to pay people not to work. And again we all had a good laugh.  I still see the cashier working there as does my son who reminds me many times that he wants the government to stop wasting his money.

Beach trip

 Spent another few days at Atlantic Beach, North Carolina.

Filling the Pool

My son filling the pool in a most creative way.