Made

As we grow up, and certainly as maturity blossoms in all of us, a realization sets in that the people who raised us have left indelible impressions upon us.  Whether they are sitting beside us at the dinner table, shopping across town, reading a math book 500 miles away, or watching quietly from heaven, we know -- we can put into words-- the things they said and did that stuck with us.  Some of those things sting, like knowing you let those people down or made a decision that disappointed them.  Some of those memories tug at our emotions, the things they told us a million times over that suddenly make such sense and lead us to think of them with trust and admiration instead of typical teenage irritation and disgust.  Some of those frames from our past haunt us, making us laugh and cry at the same time because, while they form such joyful pictures in our heads, we know we can never experience them again. 



My Dad, looking more handsome than ever.  

I am past caring what others think about this photo.  I love it.

It's precious to me.  I don't get to visit often, and neither do my Little Nguyens.

As much as the people we meet on the path of life impact us, change us, direct our thinking, and touch our emotions, for me it always, always comes back to my first foundation: my parents. They were my first way of thinking. They shaped me and formed me and molded me, and as many times as I wanted to change and alter what I was becoming, I always came back to what they told me I would eventually be. Even now, in my adulthood, I often find myself thinking: "What would they do?" Next to God, the ways in which they brought me up are the first place I turn. And I can see it, too, in the way that Chi parents our children -- he always reflects on his upbringing first and foremost. That parental code is etched on our hearts. There are many things about Chi and I that are different, but essentially we are the same: we always come back to who they wanted us to be. We are more alike than we could ever be different because, a world apart, the same kind of parents raised us.

 

The First Little Nguyen and his Ong.



The son teaching the father about breadmaking...

We owe a lot to our parents.  Of course, we owe them apologies for things like not wanting to be seen with them because they didn't wear jeans and tennis shoes, or apologies for always thinking we always know better than they do.  Thankfully, they always forgave us!  But also we owe them a debt of gratitude for loving us unconditionally despite our faults.  They have modelled a valuable parenting trait for us in doing so.  When we got married, little did Chi and I know that they would continue to shape who we would become as parents.  Parenting is a difficult job.  It's the hardest job there is, I think, and there is never a day off.  Can you imagine how many days off our parents -- with 6 and 7 children, respectively -- never got?  There is a lot of happiness and joy in watching your children grow, but I admit it -- there is a lot of struggle and heartache, too.  Somehow, when our children are babies...or even before they are born, for that matter...that never occurs to us.  We aren't ever truly prepared to feel the depth and breadth of those feelings, the heartache that is all-consuming and often keeps us up at night.  As Chi and I held each of our newborn babies, we never counted on how our hearts would virtually shatter when we saw them hurt, or when we saw them made fun of, or when they experienced failure, or when they took a turn down the wrong path.  So much of parenting hurts.  Even watching them grow up hurts because you know that little boy in the fireman hat is gone or that sweet boy who learned to crawl on Grandma's kitchen floor is never coming back.  Amidst all of the overwhelming joy and pride is heart-wrenching sadness that is so hard to get past.  Given that I am a very emotional person, it doesn't surprise me that these thoughts bring tears to my eyes.  What surprises me is when I see those same thoughts consume my big, strong husband, the smartest person I know, the guy who isn't afraid of anything.  When I see tears well up in his eyes, well, then I know what I'm feeling isn't just hyper-sensitive Sarah.  In these moments, I have to come back to that foundation from which I came:  trust Him...trust in the fact that this life is a gift.  Somehow, when we trust, He kisses our hearts like skinned knees and pinky cuts, and those overwhelming feelings of sadness turn to pride and joy.  He makes the worry a little less overwhelming and reminds us gently that even after a storm of grief and worry, there is a rainbow reminding us of what is most important.



The Little Nguyens with Ong and Ba.



With Grandma B.

When I got married, I already had one great Dad.  And then, I guess as a bonus for marrying Chi (!), I was rewarded with sweet Bo, whom I regard as a father to me as well.  It's funny how God works:  He gave me two fatherly men who were nearly carbon copies of one another -- in belief, in stature, in career, in faith, in strength, in discipline, and in family.  How is that?  Does He plan these things?  Did He plan to give me an amazing mother-in-law as well, one who I relate to deeply and love like my own beloved Mom?  I was blessed beyond measure when I was born into my own loving family, and blessings were heaped upon me again when I married into another. 

I have said it before, but I'll say it again.  I owe the existence of my Little Nguyens' sweet grins to my husband.  When they smile and their eyes twinkle with happiness, I am always reminded of Chi.  Something that is so much of who he is, is inherently represented in them.  The first time I saw Chi smile, I suddenly understood so clearly the saying that "eyes are a window to the soul."  It rings true when I look at his smile, and the same is true of the Little Nguyens.  There was such joy in those eyes this morning.  Although Chi professes that he doesn't much like it when people make a fuss over him, secretly I think he might....just a little....at least by us.  He is an amazing dad.  He sees who he wants our kids to become, and from Day 1 he has taken his role seriously.  He loves our children deeply, as any father would.  Part of the reason I think he's such a great dad is due to the fact that he has incredibly high expectations.  He encourages our boys to makes goals that better their minds and bodies, and he teaches them to how to reach them.  Moreover, he shows them how to push beyond those goals when they have reached them and go further than they ever thought they could.  While they don't always get there, the victory, he teaches, is in the genuine attempt.  He tells them that while their minds are limitless, they can also limit our potential if we aren't careful.  And, when it come down to it, your name and reputation say everything about you.  In a time when most parents want to be "best friends" with their children, he realizes how dangerous that is.  It is a fine line that he balances on as Dad in our house, but somehow he always maintains.  And, although I sometimes hate to admit it, he's right more often than I am.

Anyone who really knows Chi knows that he loves to have fun!  Believe it or not, but he is much less serious that I am, and his silliness leads to great running games, surprise attacks in the yard with squirt guns and water balloons, mercilous tickling, and more hugs and smooches than most little girls get.  He is a crafty carpenter, bakes a mean French baguette, makes the best Friday-night pizza I have ever had, and makes it his goal to learn how to do anything he doesn't know how to do that doesn't involve possums or spiders.  He loves his weekend afternoon naps of  "5 minutes", takes them religiously, and has managed to indoctrinate at least one of our children in this practice.  I have the Navy to thank for his rigorous personal training, and I admit I wouldn't ever have started running if it weren't for his "hard ass" attitude!  Someone taught him how to be a man and a gentleman, and for that I am so thankful.  Because now, he's passing on those wonderful fatherly things to our Little Nguyens, helping them to navigate the frustrations of growing up like only fathers can, making sure they grow into good fathers themselves one day.  It's not an easy job, and he has two big sets of shoes to fill.  One of those sets of shoes looks down on him from Heaven each day, and I can almost hear his chuckle.  Dad loved Chi, as he loves all his sons-in-law.  But the two of them were so alike that is often scared me -- and still does.  The other father, his own Bo, he talks to often on the phone and over Skype.  When they talk, you can hear the joy in both of their voices.  My heart swells with happiness because I know that fatherhood has helped them relate on a whole new level.

  I have a special fondenss in my heart for blue bundles of joy, obviously because I have two of them and am married to another.  Baby boys are born every day as gifts from God.  They are sweet little things who will one day, hopefully, be holding their own bundles of joy.  And, from Day 1, they are being made into daddies.  It takes a good one to realize that.


Chi, One Good Daddy, and My Two Future Daddies.
Holy Cow...did I just SAY that?!

  Happy Father's Day, Chi, Bo, and Daddy!