I don’t remember exactly the time, only the thoughts and emotions I felt.

In those long hours sometime between dusk and midnight, before my wife would go into delivery, I had a lot of time to sit there and think.

We were about to bring a little girl into this world, and I was overjoyed. It was a long journey to get to this point and we couldn’t wait.

There was another part of me, though, that held a fear and uncertainty about the future. What kind of world would we be bringing her into?

For weeks I had been processing through the anger, grief, and disillusionment over the recent spate of attacks and killings against the AAPI community. More than ever, I was fearful for my parents, fearful for my pregnant wife, fearful for my elderly uncles and aunties.

America
It is called mei guo in my mother’s tongue
It means beautiful country
What my mother and father,
And what their mothers and fathers
dreamed of
The endless promise of tomorrow
Freedom. Opportunity.
A better life.
Anything was possible.
It was the hope that came with every morning,
no matter how difficult the day
A beautiful dream for a beautiful country.

For 2020, I had prayed that I would be a fountain and not a drain. That I’d be able to be a source of life, joy, and kindness to those around me. Little did I know how that prayer would be tried and tested in the hardest of years.

I gave as best as I could until I ran empty or tired or numb. Then you gave to me…and now I understand fountains are only as useful as the water that’s being poured in.

I went back to visit the folks last night. Check in on them, grab some of mom’s good ol’ home-cooking. Lord knows we could all use some family bonding right now. But, at this moment, even family could be a source of tension.

Somewhere in the middle of our meal, there was a lull in the conversation. Pause. At this point, I just had to ask. “Dad…what do you think of the protests?”

This was hard.

Some days I feel OK, some days I don’t.

Some days I’ll get out of bed, some days I won’t.

Some days I feel trapped—inside my mind, inside this house, inside this world.

Some days I spend my time wondering if I’ve missed my prime or if it’s still to come.

Some days I’m left with too much time.

Some days I’m left with too much regret.