Homecoming

Chapter 5: Family Ties

Kathy notified me that I needed to visit my dad today, and that's how I ended up sitting beside him. She told me that my dad could go home today. It was around seven in the morning, and the sunlight crept through the windows. It has been almost a week and a half that my dad was at the hospital. Today marked the second time I've visited him. I wasn't sure if he knew that I was back home. I wasn't even sure if he wanted me here.

Growing up, I have always admired my dad. He wasn't the best person, but I know he tried his hardest to be the best father. I saw him change after my mom passed. He buried himself in his work. My older brother, Zen, noticed this as well. But among us, he was the most understanding, had a better relationship with my dad, and probably the best son in our dad's eyes.

When I was thirteen, my dad's sisters flew to LA for the first time. It was the first time I've met any relatives from my dad's side of the family. I met my two aunts and their husbands, who have seven kids altogether. They were a huge family, the very conservative kind. The type of family who goes to church every Sunday and always had to say something about somebody. They often flooded my Facebook profile with bible quotes. They despised me for having a different lifestyle. Yes, that was what they called it: a lifestyle.

My mom mentioned once that my dad has a brother, but they had lost touch. I tried asking my aunts about it, but they dismissed the conversation. They said that my uncle was gay, and it wasn't ideal for the family to have such a member —like how a bad apple could ruin a bunch of other good apples. When he was sixteen, my uncle decided to pack his bags and leave home for good. They haven't heard from him since.

I knew this before my parents knew about me being gay. To say the least, it scared me and resulted in many years hiding the real me from my family. It was like breathing underwater until my lungs started to burn. I could only hold my breath for so long, and lift my head and breathe again. When I finally had the strength to take myself beyond the surface of the water, it caused me to drift apart from the people I loved. I thought that choosing to breathe would hurt less. But now, I preferred the uncertainties of being underwater.

Whatever happened to my uncle was still a mystery up to this day, but it would have been nice to have someone to look up to. It would have been great for someone to help me navigate my life as a gay man. Maybe if I had him around, life would have sucked less.

Things were different for my brother. Zen lived the life my dad had paved for him. Being the eldest, Zen had to deal with the pressures of being perfect, but it wasn't as if he had difficulty with it. He was like the poster child for the flawless Asian kid who always succeeded in life—the child prodigy.

My dad stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes. He squinted as he adjusted to the light. I sat across from him, acting calm but ready to leave the moment he said so. I wondered how my dad managed to be still intimidating despite being bedridden, his body controlled by cancer. My dad had owlish eyes, surprised to see me there, but remained speechless.

My dad has gray hair now, thinning on his forehead. He used to have hair like mine, an array of browns and blacks that lightened in shade under the sun. He had skin with a bright shade of tan, littered with freckles and spots. I had the same, but now tattooed somewhere he couldn't see. I didn't tell him about my tattoos, much more so anything about me that changed in the last five years. He didn't ask, so I refused to bring up the fact that I went through a slutty phase. And before that, were things that would, in no doubt, make him disown me even more.

It used to be a cycle of addiction. I did it to get away with another thing that I got addicted to. But I didn't do it anymore since the boredom bothered me. I also got extensive nagging from Brad, and he almost talked my ear off once.