he was faithful in the quiet everyday things like being there when he said he would be and telling the truth even if it was difficult and diligently preparing for his classes and work and presentations. he was faithful in seeking excellence.
he loved languages - mandarin chinese and hokkien and english and malay and japanese and was it bangladeshi that he learnt from the security guards at his condo? he loved the spoken word with its unending melodies and he loved the written word in its rich intricacies.
he was a kind and generous man who shared freely considerably consistently and quietly out of his supplies. he declined promotions in order to keep his friendships. he was contented with his lot and he rejoiced in it.
he loved his wife my mother with gentle understanding and unwavering regard. my parents' love gives me hope that it is possible to grow old and infirm and helpless and yet love. it is possible that affection is redeemed into charity without losing itself.
i have a father a girl can be so proud of. i am glad we will meet again.
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