I close my eyes as I type this. I try to reminisce about the moments I have with my dad. I try to find some emotion in the life we had together. I try really hard this time because I don’t want to feel empty again in a crowded boba shop. I remember once we both laughed at a scene from a television show that I have no memory of. I remember him taking me to the arcade and giving me $5 to play Tekken and Soulcalibur. He would wander the arcade or maybe sit down or nap. I really don’t know. I remember taking him to the mall on an unbearably hot summer day for him to cool off. I bought him a $5 coffee and some water and then wandered the mall without him. I had no desire to go to the arcade like I did as a kid. All I could do now is walk and think.
I remember that he cooks for me and drives me to school even when I was in college. He yelled at me for getting a F in Algebra. He gave me money for food. Now I give him money.
He hugged me once when I said I was depressed. He yelled at me once when I said I was depressed. I hugged him once in a medical hospital when the physical therapist told me to. He hugged my mom once after he saw her at the psychiatric hospital. He yells at my mom when she’s at home. Those are the only hugs I remember, but not the only yells I remember.
Now my dad is depressed. I scoff at his lack of understanding of who or what I am. I want to yell at him for his lack of compassion, lack of empathy, lack of philosophy and reason. But I want to hug him to ease his sadness. I want to give him $5 to play some video game so he can forget about reality and so I can wander around, think, and maybe take a nap. I want to have deep talks with him about the memories he has in his life. Hopefully they’re more than the memories I have of him.