hwan.com

In media people are portrayed as alert and cognizant right up to the moment they pass, able to give a final message to a loved one. Not so with my father, and I feel his death is more typical of the experience — a disinterest in watching or reading anything, increasingly jumbled speech, a loss of any appetite or thirst, just long periods of sleep. Finally a day or more of near-constant sleep, his heart beating slower and slower, until we turned away for a moment and he was gone. Though really he had been dying in varying degrees for weeks, his bodily performance a far cry from even a couple months before. It’s been over a month since the funeral  but the events leading up to it are still fresh in my mind, a history where my dad still lives, still has advice for me, still has smiles for his friends and family. My grief comes and goes, gradually trending to a melancholy, a deep sigh in my day. In truth I have been grieving these past few years as signs of my father’s end would appear...

Hello, my name is Hwan Hong, and I’m Song-ho’s son. I want to thank everyone who came to say goodbye to my father. I know that he would have been very happy to see your faces and pleased to know that there are so many who care about him. I also want to thank my aunt, my sister, my mom, and my wife for helping me write this eulogy. We came to Canada all the way from South Korea 50 years ago, in 1974, just months after my parents were married. Since then, I have come to think of my dad as someone who made time for others, someone who was comfortable working with his hands, and someone who tackled obstacles straight on. My dad valued his friendships a lot and took being a good friend seriously. He would go the extra mile to help a friend; whether it was a golf lesson, a gardening tip, or just cracking a tough Sudoku puzzle, he would find the time. I remember seeing his face light up with that big smile of his whenever he took a call from someone he knew. He loved his friends, and being th...

Back in mid-May my dad was admitted into his local hospital's emergency ward with very low blood pressure, a low sodium level, and a build-up of fluid in his abdomen. We were all pretty concerned, especially my mom, who wanted someone with him around the clock. He was able to get it treated and was released in relatively good spirits a week later; I set myself up at their house to help out. Dad wasted no time to restart his recovery regimen, pushing his way through via spurts of exercise and rest.  We had some home care help, which he very grudgingly accepted. And despite his protests I went ahead and installed some grip bars in the bathrooms and shower. On May 29th, less than a week after his hospital release, we ended up calling for an ambulance. That day my dad had little appetite, complaining of nausea and a sticky, dry mouth, self-medicating himself on a chain of Pepto Bismo's, culminating in his throwing up a dark, oozing mass and in obvious distress. They discovered a b...

I turned fifty last month. We had a small party with old faces, lots of laughs, and, at least for me, a reminder of the life I had before the pandemic, before having a kid, before my colon surgery . That is to say, a good time, and I hope to have many more like it. I do feel older, in practical, daily ways. For one thing my eyes have gotten much worse over the past year, so bad that I find myself looking over my glasses to look at my phone. My skin is just ravaged by this dry winter air, well beyond anything I'd ever experienced. A lifetime of neglect and sun-exposure has finally caught up to me. While I'm not exactly getting heavy I have noticed a softness building up around my torso. So over the past few months I've taken to doing modified burpees as my daily exercise and have been pretty happy with the results. I do them in small bursts, HIIT-style, and that seems about the pace I can afford, both on a time and energy level. I do try to play video games but I definitely ...

My dad has three to six months left to live. My sister and I got the news over the weekend, preceded by a discouraging call from my mom saying she had some "news" about my dad. It turns out that the brachytherapy  he'd started last year (as the laser ablation treatments were proving less and less effective) had greatly damaged his liver and that the cancer was now spreading rapidly. I could immediately tell, as we all sat at the kitchen table, that my parents had some serious things to say. I sensed a slight jump in my heartrate but didn't find tears until later that night, my eyes closed and hearing nothing but death's door hovering closer and closer, now more tangible than ever. My dad was very calm about delivering his sentence -- to him, these past 27 years with liver cancer were all a bonus on top of the life he'd already had: growing up in a Japanese-occupied Korea, escaping the violence of the Korean War by travelling south by train and leaving behind f...

I mostly  enjoyed The Last of Us' first season though there were lots of changes that irked me, such as the portrayal of the self-sustaining commune and the isolated couple. I know it's late but maybe a quick rundown of recently consumed media is called for? House of the Dragon (Season 1): Pretty good. Much more palatable than Game of Thrones, feels a lot less sensational. The Banshees of Inisherin (2022): I enjoyed it, sure. Seems I'm still squeamish, even now. Better Call Saul: Excellent, top tier stuff. The Lalo stuff was a bit overwrought but seeing Jimmy and Kim struggle to make it really hit hard. Invincible (Season 1): I really liked it but I wish they'd used different actors -- having recognizable voices is distracting. The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (Season 1): Awful, just terrible. Feels like a kids show written by an AI -- most of the parts are there but overall doesn't make sense, like drowning in a feverish dream. The dialog is super awkward....

So yeah, I continue to float and bob along with the tides of 2023. The initial shocks and surprises of owning and maintaining a house have mostly dimmed themselves into the background, a hum that periodically bumps into shape, sometimes scary, sometimes less so. I am hopeful for a more relaxed December. Sora is growing so fast, it’s really true what they say. I do miss her being a little peanut but I’m routinely amazed by her development. And as she gets bigger I find watching over her a lot less draining, a lot more interactive. I’ve started watching a lot of chess and thinking about chess. I’m still quite terrible, laughably terrible. I am curious to know if I can get Sora into it. I played and loved Lies of P, definitely my favourite game this year. Diablo 4 was disappointing and Starfield was just so tedious and dead. I am currently really into Sekiro, a game I’d always wanted to try. I do wonder how many more years I can play these flicky-reaction games. Speaking of years, my eyes...

So yes, the move happened, and like all moves was a haze of mind-numbing packing, desperate rushing, meals on the run. We hired help to pack and move, which really, is the only option, but the experience remained a heavy energy drain. MJ and Sora stayed at the apartment while I got the cats accustomed to their new home. I'd anticipated that the larger space would ease their stress, and it has measurably, but not as as completely as I'd hoped -- they remain aloof at best to each other. How's Whitby, you ask? While my bitter disappointment of moving out of Toronto has lost the worst of its sting, the wound is reopened whenever I go outside, whether to walk the missing sidewalks, or ride the infrequent buses, or drive the inscrutably clogged roads. We're located on the edge of the downtown, such as it is, which simply highlights the slapdash zoning and lack of any kind of urban planning. The library is really nice though . We are mostly settled: The boxes are gone, the fur...

Back in September we took a family trip to Peterborough -- a sort of holiday for Sora and I and a regular work day for MJ. I guess I must be getting old because I found the 2+ hour drive draining, a real slog. The Prius is a pretty comfortable ride but my body complains from sitting that way for so long. Arriving in Peterborough, my first time, felt both familiar and strange. I could see how the freshly resurfaced downtown attempted to hide some dusty history, bringing to mind the downtowns of Kitchener and Guelph, which I guess makes sense as this is another university town: The same 60s low-rise downtown, pockmarked with signs of poverty, the same pre-war homes, many chopped into multi-unit rentals, the same bafflingly congested roads that compete with inadequate public transit. Our hotel was located just outside the downtown and served well enough. Sora found the experience exhilarating, excited by the new bed, a new room with just mama and papa. We ordered some Greek takeout, very...

It may have been an inevitability but the truth of experiencing it was no less upsetting — our family caught COVID back in April, a punishing trial affecting each of us differently. For me it ramped from a mild cough to a day of chills and aches, unable to function outside of the barest of essentials; a week later it had exited my system, a brief but fearsome storm. During my downtime, confined to my bed, I managed to catch up on Game of Thrones, the ending for which I had never seen, and had managed to avoid spoiling. How it came to mind I don’t recall for I had all but forgotten it after Sora’s birth/the pandemic’s rise; certainly I found it engaging enough to finish, even after all this time. I still find its extreme physical and sexual violence difficult to sit through. And speaking of difficult to sit through, how has Ontario decided to re-elect Doug Ford. How. True, the alternatives were not particularly palatable — Del Duca? And Horwath? What a woeful state of affairs! It seems ...

I absolutely hate how the world is shaping up, just a frog boiling slowly in greed, misinformation, and lack of critical thought. I don't think I've said it here but as a former member, the skeptic movement has been an abysmal failure, handcuffed by the notion that one can think and live purely on logic like some alien creature, free of "human" feeling. How absolutely frustrating it is to have the right answers but not willing to use one's voice. I frankly pity and loathe them. I wrote the above back in February, when the "Freedom Convoy" was honking its way into everyone's ears, eating up media time and darling to anti-mandate-minded small business owners. And now it's March and Putin has decided to start a land war with Ukraine, threatening nukes and all, hundreds already dead, fascists looking to see how to fill in the power gaps. For once America's wolf was real, though it seems not of the mind to really do anything about it outside of sa...