A name with affection

At work at the library today, there was a little Chinese kid running around in the kids’ section, his father nearby. I didn’t pay much attention as I was shelving until I heard the dad call out “Yeew, yeew.” I turned to look: it was part of my Chinese name, what my mom occasionally calls me. But I just saw this little kid waddling towards his dad, and it made me happy and sad in that moment: sad because I realized I don’t have any memories of my father calling my name in an affectionate, loving way when I was growing up. But happy because at least there was one father now who seemed to be doing that here, and that hopefully that kid would grow up and remember it.