made me really sad

today, while eating lunch at CPK with my life group, i got very distracted when i saw an asian dad sit down with what looked like his two sons (around 8 or 9 years old) at the table next to us.

after ordering their meal, the father proceeded to whip out and read his newspaper, while one of the boys played his nintendoDS, and the other just watched. zero verbal conversation. when the food came, they put away their preoccupations, but ate in silence for the entire meal. neither of them looked very happy, just a blank mundane look that matched all three of their faces. they frugally shared three lowest-cost items on the menu: a chopped salad, margherita cheese pizza, and spaghetti and marinara.

one question that kept running through my mind: where was their mom?! was she out of town on business? in asia visiting family? divorced? passed away? honestly, it really disturbed me, almost to the point where i tuned out from the rest of the chippery conversation going on at my own table. my heart hurt for them. it was visible that each of the three of them were longing for relationship, longing for love and support from one another, but it just wasn't there. they were just trying to get by, just trying to eat a meal that they weren't able to cook at home for themselves.

i think it disturbed me most because for a significant portion of my life growing up, i grew up in a similar situation. luckily, my dad was much more relational. but since i was much younger back then, i wasn't as aware of his feelings or facial expression, but i imagine it to be similar to the face i saw on the dad in cpk today: weary, tired, hopeless, in despair, with a heavy heart. almost too sad to be able to swallow the food. my dad carried the burden of raising our entire family when my mom was sick. even though he is an AMAZING chef, we ate out once a week during the time, simply because he didn't have the energy or emotion to cook for us.

i look back and i wonder how my dad did it for so long. for 5 years, while my mom went through chemo treatments, he sucked it up and drove her to all her appointments. and for 4 more years after she passed away, he raised the 3 of us alone, still managing to pick us up from school, drive us to piano, violin, cheerleading, soccer, whatever it was, and be a mom and dad at the same time. fortunately, we didn't grow apart during this time, but the 4 of us grew closer together during this time of hardship.

in about a month, it will be 10 years since my mom passed away. july has always been a difficult month for me to get through. but in honour of father's day this year, i thought today's situation was very appropriate for remembering my dad's resilient efforts, but most importantly, his unconditional and committed love for his family. i love you dad, and i admire you so much.