Jun Dishes

verb/diSH/ : food or sex or gossip or fiction in real life


It’s nine years, today, that my father passed away and that’s a lot of years. You can do so much in nine years yet it can fly by somehow, even with a gaping hole where your father used to be. Time flies so fast yet weighs so much when certain days of the year pop up…like today.

I’m a different person from the outside looking in, now, than I was nine years ago. Nine years ago on this day I was in a relationship with one boyfriend “M”, while still in love with an ex-boyfriend “B”. When I got the call that morning from the intensive care unit that my father had passed, it was B that I reached out to first and instinctively. A few days later at my father’s funeral, both B and M were present. So was Jee, another ex-boyfriend, whom I didn’t love anymore but so thankful for on that day. I remember, when I got up to speak at the wake, seeing B and M and Jee in one room and how odd it was.

Today on Skype my mother and I laughed as she retold how church people had remarked about how “interesting” it was that I had “so many men” at my father’s funeral “all at once” and other bullshit. Momz sighed and admitted how she’d let those people get under her skin. She then told me that B and Jee were there because my father had loved them, and they had fallen in love with my dad in return so why wouldn’t they have been there to say their goodbyes…

The thing is…my mother and I have this conversation every year since my dad passed away. Literally, almost verbatim, we end up exchanging the same lines but meaning them more than we did the year before. Nine years have passed like this. Now, my mother and I add to that conversation just how much my father would love Davy. I know Davy would love my dad.

It’s tricky spending a day like this “not” thinking about the death of my dad, knowing full well that it’s impossible but that the key is to spending the day living my everyday. Nine years worth of everyday life have passed, some days fuller than others, and today my life is full of Davy and Noah. Literally, today, my dad got to watch from above as Noah checked out a local pre-school for his enrollment in September of next year.

SchoolPicNoah’s become more confident and comfortable in his shoes and stance, and it shows. We’re anxiously awaiting the day he starts taking steps all on his own…

More than on other days, today I tried imagining I was looking at Noah through my father’s eyes. It’s not even possible really, because I just started crying immediately at just the thought. What I would give to spend a day with my dad, any day…

Always dishing,


P.S. If you’re wondering whatever happened to M…he cheated on me a month later but gave me a diamond necklace which I debated accepting but did.

Posted under: Reality Dishes


  • Kelly banes on June 14, 2013 at 10:09 pm said:


    My heart is with you today Jun. It’s been 26 years ago that I lost my dad. He did get to walk me down the aisle but did not get to meet my sons. He died when I was 7 months pregnant with his first grand son. My kids are a lot like him. As I’m sure Noah has some of your dads quailties. I’m also sure he’s looking down on you and your family with love and great proudness of the person,wife and mother that you are today. :)

    • Jun Song on June 14, 2013 at 10:46 pm said:


      Kelly, thanks for sharing that. I learn more about you as time goes by and I’m happy it goes both ways. Noah very much reminds me of my dad sometimes, especially when he wakes up from a nap hahah. Isn’t that random? :)

  • I lost my dad 4 years ago this past April. You can’t really grasp what it’s like to lose a parent, until it actually happens. And when it happens too soon…it’s almost incomprehensible. When I read your posts about your own father, I feel less alone in my (still, always) grief. After the first few months, the world assumes you’re doing ok again. But everything from the moment you lose them, is different. Not always terrible-awful, but always different. Like something’s missing all the time. Wishing you peace today, and every day, as your dad smiles down on your precious family. And p.s. that pic of Noah is too much. His little cargo khakis…I just can’t! <3

    • Jun Song on June 14, 2013 at 10:44 pm said:


      “You can’t really grasp what it’s like to lose a parent, until it actually happens.”

      Yes, it’s true. Thanks for sharing Jess. I know exactly what you mean about things just being different :)

      Noah’s rocking the cargo khaki look huh?

  • Your dad would have been such a blessing to Davy. Sigh. Oh, and kudos on the diamond necklace. That’s my girl!

    • Jun Song on June 14, 2013 at 10:41 pm said:


      The necklace was clearly a peace offering so I took it, instead of hurting him :)

      My dad would be just a blessing to so many people! But he’s done more in his too-short life than a lot of people would do in their too-long lives :)

  • My thoughts are with you today Jun! I know the pain of losing a Dad, especially one that you were so close to…it will be 19 years for me in December. It’s hard to believe I was just 18 years old at the time and now, more of my life has passed without him than I had with him. I LOVE what Jess said above. People assume that everything goes on and is OK…but it’s never the same…life will forever be different. Big Hugs to you and always remember that your Dad is looking down and smiling at the person you have become…I’m sure he’s proud of you as wife…mother…and friend that you are. Noah is lucky to have you as his Mom, and I’m sure that you will tell him all about his Grandpa when he’s old enough and help him understand that his Grandpa would be proud of him too!!

    • Jun Song on June 14, 2013 at 10:48 pm said:


      Wow. Yes. 19 years. What a way to look at it….and how wonderful that your life has gone on in so many ways since your loss :)

      Thank you for the hugs…and the support, always :)

  • Josh Spadaro on June 14, 2013 at 11:03 pm said:


    I’m sending you a big hug! I’m sure your father is proudly watching from above the awesome son, husband, and life that you have today. I hope the love from Davy, Noah, mom and all of us provide some comfort to you.

  • Anonymous on June 15, 2013 at 12:20 am said:


    My number is 13. Thank you for sharing your story. My babies are 10 and 8. I always wish he could have been here to see them. But, they still know all about him through my memories. Father’s Day isn’t so sad anymore. My husband makes it fun again! I hope you guys enjoy yours!

  • It’s funny how long time feels had passed since the death of a loved one. I lost my dad 2 years ago and it feels like a lifetime. Just the thought of what he’s missed out on will start tears! My 14 month old won’t know his grandpa either, but I feel Dad’s presence with us more now then ever & take comfort knowing he’s still watching out for us. I’m fortunate enough that I also have a 21 yr old daughter who can share grandpa memories with my son. I’m so thankful that I had those year to see Dad as a grandfather.

    (and yes, you read that right – my kids are 20 yrs apart

  • What a beautiful bond you had with your father – otherwise you wouldn’t miss him like you do. Missing my dad like crazy too as Father’s Day approaches. We had good men in our lives growing up and now as our husbands. Thanks to all the loving dads out there!

  • My sadness is quite different from those of you who had loving relationships with fathers. I hardly knew him and rarely saw mine. So I grieve at times for what I never had. He’s been gone a long time, but I can hardly grieve for a virtual stranger.

    My love and sincere wishes for peace go out to you Dear Jun.

  • MarluvsBB on June 15, 2013 at 3:45 am said:


    I felt the sting of your tears imagining looking at Noah through your Dad’s eyes. I know it’s late in the day, but I’m still sending you a warm gentle hug.

  • I appreciate you writing about your Dad. I know there are so many others who have lost a parent as well. It was one year June 3rd that I lost my Mom. She was 64, I was 33. She was sick, on Dialysis, but I still didn’t see it coming that day at home. I’m not sure how I’m doing. I don’t think about it that much. Like I’m just “surviving” or learning how to live without her still. And as ridiculous as it may sound, I was really thankful that I had Big Brother that summer. That just touched me so much when you said you imagined looking at Noah through your father’s eyes. I think about that if and when I have children. Thank you for your blogs and sharing. Love you Jun.

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