A Letter to Angkong

一柱香

那是我

與您

唯一聯繫的方式

在回鄉之際

在離鄉之前

阿爸一句

阿爹， Benna 回來了

好像一下子把您請出來

好像一下子您摸摸我的頭說

好孫！ 好孫！

而離家前的一句

阿公保祐

我好像帶著護身符

像您下南洋一樣

一樣勇敢

一樣往前走

Dear Angkong,

You passed away in 1958, three years before I was born. I never get to hear your voice, see you walk or hear you talk. All I have was your picture in the altar. It is up to me now to imagine how you were. If there were video recorders at your time, it would have been handy, isn't it?

All I remember is, whenever I return to Manila, dad would light up four incense. I would hold it in my hands and kneel down. Dad would say, "A-tia, Benna to lai lo!" In English, "Dad, Ben is home". I would then bow four times. We would do the same when I was about to leave, whether returning to Taiwan or to America.

Now that I am writing this book about our family, how I wish that I was born a few years earlier. I wish we can be like other grandpas and grandsons where I can ask you questions about your adventure, where we can go get some ice cream and have a few laughter, where you can teach me how to ride a bike. Or maybe that is not how Chinese express their love. Knowing dad, he would bring us to eat or give us gifts whenever we return to Manila. Maybe you would do the same if I were on your arms.

As I read about your generation and the adventures of overseas Chinese, I come to realize why dad was so thrifty. I now realize that thriftiness is the virtue which carry each and every overseas Chinese to succeed. Saving is how many overseas Chinese were able to start from a little store and build a business empire.

I have many more things to learn in this life. Writing this book will be a challenging journey but at the same time, a chance for me to grow. I truly believe that knowing where I came from and who I am will make my life better.

Until next time,
Benna