Summer

August 21, 2024

Dear Leland and Everett,

It’s been awhile since my last letter. Not because things haven’t happened or been happening. Perhaps the opposite: I’ve had more ideas than I knew how to capture, and got a bit overwhelmed. I had one letter that felt significant and important; for the first time ever I edited for several days. But I could never bring myself to publish it: it just wasn’t ready.

I’m feeling a little cluttered mentally these days, reminiscent of how I felt before I started writing these letter (though to a lesser degree of severity). I feel as if ideas have been percolating and building, wanting and needing to be expressed. I’m not as clear those ideas want to be expressed through writing (as opposed to other mediums of creativity), but I sense some of them do. We shall see what comes.

Enough throat clearing.

We started a new school year late last week. You are now 4th and 1st graders. I’m astonished how time flies, and yet somehow simultaneously amazed I still get 9 and 12 more years with you before you graduate from high school and presumably move away from home. You are both wonderful boys, and I hope you know how much I love and cherish you. I’m pretty sure you do: you both complain every time I tell you I love you, with Everett specifically protesting “Dad, we already know!”. I presume this means I’m doing something right as a father.

This summer was pretty great. The first week we travelled down to SoCal to visit your Uncle Jack; we made our first trip to San Diego, where we went to the zoo, the beach, and Sea World. A month later we travelled up to Seattle to see your grandparents, aunt and uncle, and cousins; as always, you were enamored spending time and playing games with your cousins. Scattered throughout were camps, including a camp at your school, a sports camp, your first forays into gymnastics, some coding for Everett, and a ‘spy academy’ for Leland.

At the tail end of the summer, we took a family vacation to Las Vegas. Vegas isn’t anyone’s idea of a family destination, but Leland requested it, and your Mom and I are learning to honor Leland’s requests when we can. I still remember how my favorite 3 meals from our trip to Japan came when Leland (and in one instance, Everett) insisted on attending a specific spot, selected as we walked by. Leland, when you really want something, you ask for it in a certain way. In general I try to listen to and honor those requests. Vegas was one of those: you were the one who wanted to go on a family vacation, and convinced your Mom to take the time off of work. You were the one who proposed Las Vegas as the destination. And you both (but especially Leland) helped me plan the whole trip.

This was our first family vacation since we left Singapore. After 5+ years of living in Singapore, your Mom and I were ready to reinvest in our relationships back home. Over the five years we’ve been home, we’ve used our vacations to visit or travel with loved ones. But after five years, it seemed appropriate to take a trip as a family.

Interestingly, trip preparation surfaced some interesting *stuff* between your Mom and me. Your Mom acknowledges that she has negative associations with family vacations due to her dad having a bad attitude and a bad temper. My perception has long been that your mom avoided taking even weekend vacations as a family, to the point where it became a source of frustration and anger for me.

In the lead up to our vacation, I perceived (real or imagined I’m not entirely clear) your mom making efforts to avoid or even sabotage this vacation. In the day or so before the vacation your Mom and I both got triggered, precipitating one of the uglier fights we’ve ever had. Your Mom laid out a recurring but long-buried issue: she doesn’t feel like she can depend on me. In response I laid out my issue: my perception that she’s been avoiding taking a vacation with us. Your mom, to her credit, calmly laid out the evidence contradicting my perception that she’s been avoiding vacationing with us. And I asked her to consider the possibility the reverse was true: that there is plenty of evidence available that I am in fact reliable. We both acknowledged the other’s points, and calmed down.

On the vacation, Everett and Mom got into a pretty big fight. I don’t even remember what started it. But Mom got mad at Everett, and when Mom gets mad, I describe it as a nuclear chain reaction: it just builds and builds, with no apparent ability to shut it down. Everett got mad at Mom for being mad at you (that’s not how you framed it, but that’s what you meant; you have really helped me appreciate how people rarely express their anger toward the thing that really bothers them). Everett’s anger expresses differently from Mom’s: you have a bigger flash of anger at the beginning. But like your Mom, Everett doesn’t really know how to deescalate, other than to go get some space: to your great credit as a 6-year-old, you know when you need to retreat to your room and calm down; you’ll even shout at intruders “I need my space!”. Unfortunately it’s hard to get space to calm down on vacation in Las Vegas.

[As an aside: Leland has a remarkably steady demeanor, rarely expressing anger. Given the big emotional range in the rest of the family, I’m stupefied by Leland’s steady demeanor. As for me, I flash anger rapidly and seemingly out of nowhere, then just as rapidly calm down.]

When we got back to the room I intervened, holding Everett in my lap and calmly talking to you. I explained that you have a temper, and that I think you get it from Ah Gong, your maternal grandfather. I explained that your temper likely reminds your Mom of her dad, which brings back painful memories. I pointed out that your Mom probably has the same temper as both you and Ah Gong, but wasn’t allowed to express her anger as a child lest her dad explode. And so she struggles to manager her temper now, not knowing how to deal with those experiences, but especially not knowing how to process her own child expressing the anger she was routinely forced to swallow at the same age.

Your mom, to her great credit, sat quietly listening. She neither agreed nor disagreed, but calmed down while I spoke. I won’t assume that I was completely accurate, but sense I was close enough to the truth that I helped deescalate the situation for both of you.

After I finished talking and you and your Mom calmed down, I asked Everett to give Mom a hug. Everett walked over to your Mom sitting on the bed. You crawled into her lap, leaning backward against her chest. I pointed out that this wasn’t a hug, and your Mom gently shook her head, giving me a look that said “we got this”. After a few minutes of what seemed like the final stages of deescalation and recalibration, Everett turned around and gave Mom a big, loving hug. It lasted a few seconds: not nearly as long as I would have wanted had I been involved, but apparently long enough for the two of you. And then Everett sat up and said something silly, which set Everett and Mom engaging in playful banter. I realized in that moment how Everett and Mom share a silly side, and the playful banter is partly how you connect with each other.

Overall we had a wonderful, memorable trip. Everyone had fun, everyone was able to be present and enjoy the time. We saw the Jabbawokeez and a mind blowing magic show (your introverted Mom even got called up to the stage as a participant!). We went to a weirdo kids’ exhibit called OmegaMart. We treated you two to ginormous milkshakes (Leland’s had two full-size brownies and was rimmed with chocolate chips held on by chocolate sauce; Everett’s had a rice crispy treat, a pop tart, laffy taffy, and was lined with Fruity Pebbles held on by a vanilla frosting); you were so ecstatic when the shakes arrived…and then you proceeded to eat somewhere between a quarter and a third of them before getting full. We had the fanciest meal of your lives at a Japanese restaurant everyone loved. Leland ate lots and lots and lots of pizza. We had gelato daily or close to it. And we spent copious time in the hotel pool before Leland recognized with maturity and self awareness that belies your years: “I’m bored with the pool”.

Not everything was perfect. The first day especially was insanely hot. Everett got a little too cold in the pool in the mornings, and wanted to be in the hot tub while Leland wanted to be in the pool (it amazes me how Leland runs hot and Everett runs cold). At the frozen bar we visited (with tables, chairs, decorations, and even the glasses made of ice), Leland was over the moon while Everett was frigid. Everything seemed a little too expensive. But overall the trip was incredible, and one of my favorite vacations ever.

My key takeaway from the vacation is that sometimes you have to be willing to *go there* in order to experience the good stuff. I’m convinced that if we hadn’t had the two fights (between your Mom and I, and between Everett and Mom), we wouldn’t have enjoyed the rest of the trip nearly as much as we did. The emotions would have remained under the surface, distracting us from presence and enjoying each other and the experiences around us. Because we let our anger out and were willing to experience it, we were able to clear our frustrations and fully experience the time with each other in a new and exciting place.

As wonderful as the trip was, your Mom and I were ready to come home. I take that as an excellent sign: I’ve always noticed how my attitude on return from vacation portends the overall health and balance in my life. If I really don’t want to go home and back to my daily life, something is deeply wrong and it’s time to make substantial life changes. If I look forward to going home after a wonderful vacation, it implies I’m pretty happy with my day-to-day life; so it was on this trip.

And now we’re back to school. You are enjoying reconnecting with old friends. Your Mom and I are focused on getting back into our routines. We’re trying to figure out what extracurriculars to sign you up for while also looking to catch up on the self-care we’ve let slip during the summer while indulging and spending extra time with you two.

We had a full summer, and I’m satisfied in the belief we experienced it as fully and intentionally as we could. And now, as the seasons start to change, we move into a new mode. Personally I’m looking forward to taking on a few new projects: some small and known, some perhaps bigger and unknown (we shall see).

Whatever happens next, I’m grateful for the summer, for the experiences we shared together, and the opportunity to memorialize and relive it in writing this letter.

Oh, and thank you Leland for asking us to take a family vacation, and for recommending Las Vegas. Once again I’m glad we honored your intuitions: our summer would not have been the same without that wonderful family experience.

I love you both.

Love,

Dad