Though dad was considered the better looking between him and my mom, he always said that others’ saying about his look was a joke and my mom actually had the most beautiful face, which I agreed at certain point. Mom, when she was young, had unusually big, round eyes that was uncommon in Asian women, very fine skin, a figure with curves and a clear, singing voice that now even would mislead people to think they are having a phone conversation with a young woman. One of my cousins, the firstborn of dad’s pal-turned-into-brother-in-law, concluded that dad had a facial feature of a woman, at which I countered, “Not true. My dad is just simply handsome. That’s all.” I once asked mom what she thought about dad, especially his look. She only grinned and said, “He passed.” Simple expression and simple words revealed all. I liked the easy, comfortable bond between them.
