June 19, 2011

Glad for my Dad

When my father passed away twelve years ago, I began to dread Father’s Day. Over time, while I haven’t learned to embrace the holiday again, I now accept it as another chance to remember him and be thankful.

My dad wasn’t exactly into fashion. An aeronautical engineer who had taught himself computer science, he had a doctorate in physics and knew almost as much about chemistry, mathemetics and even history. (Do I sound proud?  You bet I am.) He was logical, precise and neat. But Dr. Oh wasn’t all about numbers and formulas. He enjoyed good coffee, good food and good wine. He liked opera and art. He laughed out loud when reading the Sunday comics like Blondie and Dennis The Menace.

Fleurs, watercolor.

When I was young[er], my dad nurtured my artistic interests. He would drive every Saturday morning into downtown Philly so I could take classes at the University of the Arts and later Moore College of Art & Design. As a tween, I took watercolor, charcoal drawing and fashion illustration courses. While I was in class, my dad would work in his office near Ridley Park. After he picked me up around noon, we would sometimes visit Fisher’s Pretzels at the Reading Terminal.

One Christmas a few years before his death, my dad bought Hermès scarves for me and my mom. (I picture him rushing frantically through King of Prussia Mall on December 24th, trying to find our gifts.)

Hermès, Ombrelles et Parapluies

He always had a good sense of color, design and quality, which I believe I inherited.

Thanks, Dad, for everything.

Join the conversation! 2 Comments

  1. […] for.  My good health, yes.  My mom who has put up with me for almost four decades, sure.  My late father who was a brilliant man of great character, check.  And I could easily come up with several more […]

  2. […] you never get over the death. You learn to live with it—the experience becomes part of you. In this post last year, I reflected on what my dad meant to […]


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