kindness and generosity and laughter, oh my!
photo of my parents at my brother's wedding. july 2013.
i'm taking a break from writing about boys and am dedicating this blog to a man. the man. it's my dad's birthday month, so why not?
it's no secret that i'm the black sheep of my family. i was the boy-crazy middle daughter, who has broken my father's heart more than once. i am not proud of this. i don't think it's cool... i've made many mistakes in my life and breaking my dad's heart will always be on the very top of that list.
growing up, my biggest fear was disappointing my parents. they had given up everything they knew and loved to give their children a better life halfway across the globe. i prided myself on getting good grades and not getting into trouble. that changed when i started really liking boys... man, boys really are trouble. i'll never forget my dad telling us how people in our hometown would tease him about having three daughters as he walked around with us. that's what you get for all the trouble you caused. all the hearts you broke. three daughters. we were karma personified.
here's the thing. making mistakes is a part of life. no matter how many people tell you something is not a good idea, you will feel compelled to find out for yourself. and you should. you cannot live your life afraid of making mistakes based on other people's experiences. you have to make your own choices. live your own life... i know i have. living my life authentically has led me to wonderful experiences and excruciating heartache. the numerous times i've admitted to making bad choices to my dad, he's always looked passed my shame, embarrassment and heartbreak and said nothing. not a justifiable i told you so or a blaming that's what you get. he just looks at me and understands; if he's disappointed in me, he doesn't show it.
there is no kindness in the world like the kindness in my father's eyes when my decisions haven't turned out the way i thought, intended or hoped it would. he looks at me. sees me. loves me. he says everything without saying a word. i know, without a doubt, that i there is nothing i can do in this life that would take his kindness away from me and that fact alone makes me braver, bolder, better.
my dad is the kind of man who would give you the shirt off his back; he is literally generous to a fault, often giving more than he has. one of my more vivid memories growing up is my dad buying all the neighborhood kids ice cream when my sisters and i wanted some; the ice cream man loved him. the kids loved him. everyone loved him. loves him... and why wouldn't they? he tells the best stories, cooks the best filipino dishes you'll ever taste and treats everyone he meets like his best friend. my dad is generous with his time, kindness and attention; he raised us to be compassionate because not everyone is as lucky as we are. not everyone has the same opportunities.
generosity can be tricky though. when is it enough? is there such thing as too much? i think so. there's a fine line between being generous and giving too much of yourself. i've crossed this line and have struggled to find the right balance for me. i'm not one to keep score but i believe in the idea of giving and taking and visa versa. when i do something for someone, i expect a thank you. it doesn't have to be a big deal. it shouldn't be a big deal but you should acknowledge that someone opened the door for you, treated you to coffee, sent you to college. though it often does, generosity does not have to involve money; the most generous gifts i've received in my life haven't been bought.
laughter is one of those treasures. my dad is hilarious. he has stories for days; his enthusiasm is infectious, especially when he attempts to share them in english. his laughter fills any room with warmth and joy; i challenge anybody not to laugh with my dad when he's in his zone. friends i grew up with remember my dad's tall tale stories and his laughter. when i feel overwhelmed or have a problem to work through, my dad tells me to laugh it off. problems? what problems? laugh at it. it can't hurt you.
that's the thing. sometimes it does hurt me and no matter what i do, i end up crying instead. there's no stopping the tears when you're vulnerable and feel utterly alone. the more you try to reign it in, the more it comes. it just happened to me today. i literally sobbed through the last third of my yoga practice. twenty minutes of non-stop tears. it took me by surprise and i was a little embarrassed by it. thankfully, i was in a room full of people who understand that being vulnerable is not something to shy away from but celebrated. out in the lobby, i joked and laughed about the experience knowing that i'm cared for and supported by the people around me.
i will always laugh because, no matter what happens, my dad will remind me to do so. he'll tell me one of his many stories with a grin he can hardly hide, and i'll laugh. i'll laugh because my dad is awesome and just talking to him makes me happy; i'll laugh because i like the way i feel when i'm laughing. i laugh often and loudly. my dad will be celebrating his birthday on sunday; i'm sure we'll be laughing over the phone then. how lucky am i to have been raised by a man who values kindness, generosity and laughter most in life? very lucky. i know. i feel abundant, loved and vibrant because i know what's important.
thanks, dad. i love you.
*originally published on blogspot. saturday, august 19th 2013
http://livingandlovingandlaughingohmy.blogspot.com/2013/08/kindness-and-generosity-and-laughter-oh.html
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