If I Could Turn Back Time

If I could find a way—I would.

The night before my last day in Bangkok I dreamed of my Dad! Not a very interesting starter line for a post, but understand me, I've never dreamed about him, or Thailand. I've wished it, prayed for it, for him to come to me in my dreams, and nothing, until last night. He was in America playing music for a crowd of people who must have all been you! Every moment I have with him has become precious.

Being in Bangkok, as opposed to Chiang Mai, is special because I cohabitate with my Dad. What seems trivial to others means everything to me. Waking up and walking into the room with Dad drinking coffee as he says "good morning," causes an indescribable feeling.

A bittersweet fragrance of emotions surrounds me every day. I study the details of his face, hands, feet, and nails. Intently listening to the sound of his voice, I won't forget this intimate space we share. We watch TV together, although I don’t understand them, I watch to be close. Sometimes he translates for me, which is precious and delightful. I will carry the sound of his laughter in my heart forever.

Spending some time reading and studying yesterday, I discovered a common thread in my readings and videos I viewed recently...vulnerability. A hard trait to practice, depending on the level of pain you've endured in your life. It's easy to build walls to keep from being vulnerable, and yet, it's what builds authentic relationships. My friend and confidant, Jamie Norton told me,

"We all want to be loved, but few of us want to be known."

That requires breaking down concrete barriers we've erected for protection. I did just that, in a moment of humility with Dad. Letting him know the real me and the difficulty of this journey so far. I communicated my days are unique with different challenges, but I walk each step to reach my goals, no matter the cost.

Some days my writing fails me. No amount of prayer or meditation brings the words to the page. Other days it pours from me as strong as a mountain waterfall. I am learning to find my voice and how to recognize God’s voice, chasing after Him every day. Without His guidance, I have nothing to say.

It's early in the afternoon, with the familiar sounds of the city in the background, as I sit in the apartment space I've spent the last 10 days with Dad. Goodbye is looming, and it's heartbreaking. I know I'll return here, but it never stops the waves of sorrow. Bangkok is so many things to me, not the least, is the place where my life began.

A quick side story.

While hanging out with Dad’s friends, Apple (one of my favorite people), he asked about my story; I told him I was born in Hawaii, and he interrupted, saying,...

"Oh! You were just MADE IN THAILAND!" "Yes! 'Made in Thailand', born in Hawaii, and raised in North Carolina!," as I cried with laughter.

Such a priceless moment only improved by his improvised song of my being made in Thailand. I love the relationships found here with my Dad.

Let me close by sharing a few small details of my Thai family. The unconditional love lavished on me is overwhelming. Not one person has EVER questioned my identity as a Toigeebee! There is a genuine feeling and sense of belonging when I'm with them. Their desire to love me, know me and embrace me as one of the family is obvious. On my last day in Bangkok we enjoyed our second family gathering, this time at my cousin Say’s restaurant, Octopush. The 'goodbyes' are 30 to 45 minutes on average, and even then, the urge to linger is powerful.

Back in my second (no wait, third!) home, in Chiang Mai, I prepare for the final days of my trip. Early Sunday morning a week from today, I will walk those familiar steps, pile into Dad's van, struggle through traffic to the airport, grabbing as many hugs and words of love as is possible. One week left to build more memories to last a lifetime.

You see, I spent a lifetime never knowing my Thai family existed, complete with beautiful sisters (who we all look alike), a brother, a father, a clan of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Had my American family shared the truth, and lifted the veil of fear and secrecy, I'd have those Thai memories from my early years. But...