[I don't normally post personal updates on Twitter, but I want to honor my father's memory after burying his ashes yesterday.]

A thread.

About two months ago, my father passed away after years of fighting COPD. He was 86 years old. My heart aches because I miss him,

but I'm glad that he is now free and is following Buddha to a happy place. He is survived by his wife of 54 years, three children, and four grandchildren.

Chiu-lang Charles Chi 紀秋郎 was a professor of comparative literature. He loved English, Japanese, and Chinese literature

and is known for his research on literary criticism. A student of the late professor Liang Shi-Chiu 梁實秋, my father served as Department Chair and Dean of several colleges in Taiwan with distinction, and compiled several Chinese-English dictionaries that are still in print.

I've embarked on a journey to read his beloved James Joyce, and actually understand it.

As a father, he was gentle, calm, and supportive. He loved music, and encouraged me to tinker with anything I was interested in.

I'm still listening to the enormous classical music 500-700 vinyl record collection he left behind. His love led to both of my siblings getting PhDs in music. I can still feel his gentle embrace and knowing supportive smile.

Behind my mother's back, he gave me a joystick out of his pocket money when I was ten, knowing I loved tinkering on the Apple II.

Being a critic, it is perhaps a surprise that he is a man of few words, but he always chose his words wisely.

Summarized, the wisdoms in his lessons are to recognize the beauty in the world, critically think about and value that beauty, while recognizing the enormous contributions of those around you in that beauty.

Godspeed, Dad. You will always be in my heart.