i grew up in a very warm, loving family,
always hugging and kissing and grabbing each others boobs.
oh, i forgot to mention weird. i grew up in a very weird family.
table 8 at the wedding reception, once known as the kids table.
i could see my dad’s heart melt whenever he saw my uncle (his brother) with his granddaughter isabella.
i know he wants grandkids,
and as much as i like the idea of getting married and spitting out ankle biters,
i just haven’t found the right guy yet, and i’m not going to settle just to settle down.
i want it to be the kind of love a yeh and a mah had.
grandma passed away when i was six,
but grandpa lived for another fifteen years.
he never loved another woman, and was dedicated to his family.
when i was little,
dad used to leave on long business trips,
and grandpa, frail and lanky, would take the greyhound bus all the way from los angeles to san jose
to help mom take care of me and vinh.
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now back in sacramento for the remainder of the week.
mom and i have been scrapbooking pictures for the newlyweds.