(grand) father figure

Both of my grandfathers had died by the time I was born.

The closest I came to a grandfather figure was great Uncle Mai.

He rode the bicycle, wore a beret and smoked a pipe.

And you could always count on Uncle Mai to show up early on New Year’s day.

I remember him because of the movie Cinema Paradiso.

And I grew up very similar to what the movie was depicting: same faces, same setting.

There was a social rhythm, a seasonal dance you can always count on.

You can count on a village-like routine, despite the then heated up war overshadowing everything.

Uncle Mai was from a generation which saw the intersect of world powers: British, French, Japanese, American and Chinese. Somehow, all converged on that little strip of land south of China Sea, to carve out domination and influence.

Geo-politically, it looked like the first of a pre-Cold War South East Asian domino (if you push the chip from the Pacific Ocean inward).

Uncle Mai kept up those  extended family ties, on his bike.

Now I do have trains, planes, and automobiles. And I am being called Great Uncle by some.

Yet I could only be counted on to show up occasionally on Turkey day, or Barbecue Fourth.

And I wouldn’t call myself a (grand) fatherly figure. It’s hard to measure up to that title. I have not been under that much French influence : the pipe, the beret and the bike (Just read somewhere that in Shanghai, E-bikes are now in).

And the past is supposed to be buried along with its divisive points of view (orthodox vs contrarian on the war).

All I remember was the occasion, the grace with which my mother extended to a fatherly figure she had lost.

Those interactions were the imprints of my early years, when people took the time to visit, to reminisce and to feed into the ever-ending cycles of social grace and connection. Uncle Mai , the memory keeper, did pay forward without knowing it.

I read about E bike, and I remember him. Maybe someday, my grand nieces and nephews will think of me when reading E books.

Wonder what their early imprints about me are. That I keep myself fit, that I am a constant learner? A searcher?

Whatever the impressions may be, they should know that I am in the family tree. And that some people are not into patriarchal role, or are exceptional. The evolution process doesn’t afford for a generation or two to pop up a superhero or genius in each family.

Just ordinary folks,  in their daily struggle, trying to maintain the dignity, respect and hopefully, familial ties.

My uncle Mai still is the closest to a grandfather figure that I will ever have. You see, he was the longest survivor of his generation, when the French was still roaming the streets in colonial white, and the Japs were trying to take over their influence. Mai by the way, is translated as “tomorrow”, the future. And I can’t wait to find a beret, a pipe and a bike.

But don’t count on me to show on New Year’s Day, year after year. I can barely work on being a father figure myself.