My heart started beating faster and faster. I could even hear my heart beat out loud. I could feel the beads of sweat coming down my forehead and under my arms. Should I do it? Or just skip it? I didn’t want to be embarrassed. I wanted to lean over and just give a big hug and a soft kiss. But did I dare?

It had been a wonderful evening so far. The sun was slowly setting in the background. We had just finished dinner at a nice restaurant. Pleasant music was playing in the background. We were at a hotel on top of a Burbank hill overlooking the vast San Fernando Valley. We had spent a couple of hours talking and sharing about our hopes and dreams as well as fears and disappointments. We had never felt so close to each other. We both felt understood and accepted by each other.

Yet I was nervous. I didn’t want to risk spoiling a perfect evening. But, then, I gathered up all the courage inside of me and reached over and gave him a long hug and a big kiss on the cheek.

Never in my twenty years of life did I think my relationship with my dad would become this close and that we would even have a friendship! And never would I have believed that we would ever hug each other, or I would give him a kiss.

But things change!

Growing Up in a “Model Chinese-American” Family

Born and raised in the San Fernando Valley in the Los Angeles area, I was the fourth of five children born to immigrant Toishan Chinese parents. To the outside world, we were the “model Chinese-American” family. As kids we were courteous and well-behaved, respectful to our parents as well as to others. We were hard working. We were at the very top of our classes academically. I performed and won awards at music competitions and drama festivals. Our family was admired by all. We made our parents proud. Of course, they would never show it, though. Like in many typical Chinese-American families, I didn’t recall my parents ever telling me that they loved me or were proud of me when I was growing up. There was none of the positive reinforcement or affirmation that we see encouraged by popular psychologists in society today. But without verbalizing it, we knew that we loved each other.

Similarly, there was never any public affection between mom and dad either. Dad was the stereotypical non-communicative father. He was stoic. He didn’t show many positive or negative emotions. Mom was more expressive, but not overly so. Dad never complained. He hardly raised his voice. He rarely became angry. So I loved him, but hardly communicated with him beyond the basics.

Seasons of Change

As I entered my first year at UCLA, my yearning for a deeper relationship with my parents grew. I had always dreamed of having Brady Bunch type relationships with my own mom and dad. I dreamed that we could give each other hugs and tell each other that we loved each other. But that kind of thing never happened in our family, nor in the other Chinese families that we knew.

I wanted so much to have a deeper relationship with my mom and dad—for us to be friends. My parents were good and decent people, but I realized that unless they received the free gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ, we would never see them again after they passed away. Each of the five of us children had all believed in Jesus. We had our wrongs paid for by Jesus’ death that allows us to be forgiven of our sins, so that after we die, we have the privilege of being with God instead of being eternally separated from Him. However, neither my mom nor dad had received this gift. This made me sad. I wondered what I could do to change things. I wanted to have a more complete love for my parents and a deeper relationship with them. And I also wanted them to enjoy the free gift of God that we had.

During my freshman year at UCLA, my eldest sister, May, repeatedly encouraged me to “honor and obey my parents so things would go well for me.” Additionally, Dr. James Dobson of Focus on the Family had a strong influence on me. I would regularly listen to his radio broadcasts or audiocassette tapes. He had a concept of spending time individually with his son and his daughter to open up meaningful communication. I wondered if I too could experience the same type of bonding if I “dated” my mom and dad separately.

Baby Steps to Success

I started to consider the idea of asking my mom and dad out on “dates.” It was an interesting but scary thought. I started calling them while I was away at college to chat with them. I didn’t want anything from them. I just wanted to see how things were going in their lives. It was awkward at fi rst. They couldn’t understand why I was calling. But it got easier. There were fewer awkward silences. Next, on the weekends when I came home from UCLA, I started accompanying them to Chinatown and helping them with their shopping. In the past, if I had to go, my attitude wasn’t the best. Now, my attitude changed to recognize this was valuable time with my parents. I began to think how I could help make their time more enjoyable and easier for them.

Risks versus Reward

School ended, and I moved back home. I began to get excited and scared at the same time at the thought of asking my mom on a date and then asking my dad on a date. What happens if they laugh at me? What happens if they refuse and say we can just talk at home if there is anything to talk about? In fact, I had never seen them have any time alone with each other, much less go out of their way to date each other. What happens if my brother and sisters get wind of this? They would tease me incessantly, no doubt, I thought.

It was a Tuesday night; I had just finished watching my California Angels lose another baseball game. Mom had just finished doing the dishes. My heart was thumping out of my chest. I needed to do it now. I blurted out, Mom, can I take you out to dinner?

Mom: We just had dinner. (She looks confused.)

Andrew: No, I mean can I take you out to dinner on Thursday or Sunday?

Mom: What for? Mother’s day was a few months ago.

Andrew: I just want to spend some time with you. We can just talk.

Mom: What for? Let’s check with Dad.

Andrew: No. I just want time alone with you. Just to talk—I want to get to know you better. (I’m now all sweaty from nervousness.)

Mom: (after a long pause) Okay. Where?

Andrew: Wherever you like. (My heart begins to calm down.)

So, the following Sunday, I took her out to Four Coins restaurant in the San Fernando Valley. We ordered our food. Then, mom asks, “What’s wrong? What did you want to talk about? How come you didn’t want Dad to come?” I said, “Mom, I just want to get to know you, to hear about your childhood and learn about things that make you happy. I want to know the things that you worry about, things that you hope for—things like that. I just want to spend time with you, okay?”

We spent the rest of the evening talking about what life was like in China for her and how she was one of the few girls to get an education before WWII. She told me that she didn’t want to marry before she fi nished her education, and her dad agreed with her. Other people in the village were urging Grandpa to marry her off, but he said, “What’s the hurry?”

After dinner, I suggested we go for a drive, so we went up to a scenic point above the San Fernando Valley. We had a great time. She shared with me things about her past that I had no idea had happened. I began to appreciate and understand her in a deeper way.

Date with Dad

Two weeks later, much to my surprise, my dad agreed to go out alone with me to dinner. My dad even let me pay.

After a series of lunches and dinners with mom and with dad separately, I started taking my mom to other events, like the Huntington Library. Time with my dad included taking him to a UCLA football game. I don’t think he had ever attended a sports event before, although he watched them on TV. Yet, our favorite thing to do was sharing a meal together and then spending time talking in a quiet corner of a fancy hotel.

Investment Returns

Over time, both my mom and dad began to reveal some of their heartaches, their joys, their fears, their hopes for us, their painful disappointments, and experiences. This helped me to see my mom and dad in a new light. I began to seek their input and counsel on things. I wasn’t just tolerating their unsolicited advice.

Before I had gotten to know my dad, I had always thought my dad was far too conservative. I thought he didn’t take enough risks in life. He was quiet, and people didn’t understand him. People ridiculed him for not making more of the opportunities that came his way. I had agreed with their perspectives. Now I understood him much better. Being alone with my dad allowed him to share and confide in me and me in him, which would not have occurred had another person been there, even if the other person were my mom or one of my siblings.

Over time, my dad and I grew in our vulnerability with each other. We laughed. We shared stories. We talked about the future and the past. He confided that he knew people whispered and talked behind his back about him, but he didn’t care because he was doing what he knew was best for the family. My Date of a Lifetime He shared about his struggles serving in the US Army during WWII. He was the only Asian in the squad. You can imagine the discrimination and hazing he received as a scrawny Chinese 17-year-old in a squad of big Caucasian men. In spite of that, he was proud to be an American and extremely patriotic. He confided in me that, when the time came, I was to make sure that his casket was covered with an American fl ag and he was given a soldier’s burial.

Over the next couple of years, my dad shared intimately with me. Once he told me that he knew that I felt he favored my older brother, and he wanted me to know that wasn’t true. He also disclosed that his proudest moment as a father was walking my sister, May, up the aisle during her wedding because he had never known his own father. He and grandpa were separated when he was three years old and my dad never saw him again. He said he would regret it if he had never had the opportunity of giving one of his children in marriage. By this time, my dad had received a cancer diagnosis that would claim his life, so when he told me this, I had tears in my eyes, and I told him how sad I was to think that he may never be able to meet my wife. Tears started coming down his face too.

Then it happened. I told him I loved him. He told me he loved me too! He said it! He said, “I love you.” Always previously when I told him I loved him, he would nod back with a contented smile, as if to say, “I love you too,” but he never verbalized it. This time, he said it!

Upon Reflection

As a result of one-on-one times with my mom and dad, our relationship transformed from a functional, emotionally-detached, parent-son relationship to an emotionally vulnerable, fully-engaged friendship. Never could I have dreamed this could be possible. Communication with my dad had been virtually non-existent before. But each time I took a risk or dared to be embarrassed, I focused on the long-term potential benefit. It took time and effort, and progress was made one step at a time, one risk at a time. I wouldn’t trade these experiences for all the money in the world. Eventually both mom and dad came to receive the free gift of Jesus as their Savior, and I received the gift of a deep, vulnerable, loving relationship with both my mom and dad.

(Andrew was the former President & CEO of Issachar, a ministry focused on creating breakthroughs in Muslim Central Asia. Currently, he is Vice-President, Senior Trust & Estate Specialist for Merrill Lynch Trust Company. He enjoys helping families and non-profit organizations effectively steward their resources to fulfill God’s mission for their families and helping organizations fulfill their mandate more effectively through charitable and trust planning. He lives with his wife and daughter in Kirkland, WA. The author can be reached at Andrew_Low@ml.com)