No Worries

Can’t set our minds at ease, no matter what, because we cared too much about each other!  Translated…

My son has, absolutely NO faith, that his scatterbrained mother can take care of his young by herself, and I can’t feel secure, that he’s riding out late at night, making the deliveries, it’s, a looped around cycle of worrying, between parents and children.

The sudden onset of the outbreak of MERS-CoV, it’d, impacted the industries across the world, being on the front lines in the tourism industries, you can’t imagine it.  And, even though, we’re, going into, the post-outbreak times, the tourist industries tried to make it, by, proposing the trips within the country, but my daughter-in-law is responsible for the tour groups abroad, and, it’s going to take a while, until that start back up again.  In this very hard time, those who worked in her office took the pay cuts, some got laid off, everybody was on high alert, some quickly, transferred to alternative industries of work, to take the baseline minimum monthly wages to make ends meet.  And at this time, my young granddaughter came, and, other than the basic living needs, there’s, this extra expense, and so, my son had to, start making the deliveries after his regular work hours.

Canceling the nannies, and I’d become, the temp nanny, and I, naturally, supported my son’s methods of saving the money.  Actually, I’d, longed to have a grandchild a very long time, and, as I was gloating on it, my son handed me the Holy Bible of childcare that the nurses made from the hospital for the new parents, reiterated, “When you make the milk, first the water in the bottle, then the formula, make sure that the formula is melted completely, to the left and right, don’t shake the bottle up and down then, place it under the sink to get it cooled off, it can’t be too hot.” “Pour the unfinished amount out, don’t save it for the next feeding time.”  “Now the diapers have the signals of if it’s wet, when the signal turned from yellow to blue, time to change.” “Newborns shouldn’t sleep on their tummy, it would cause sudden infant death.”  “oh, and don’t feed her any water!”

I nodded, like a good student, listening to the words of the school teacher, thought: this first-time grandma, is an excellent master back when, it’s just, I hadn’t, be in the realms a long time, I’d just, lost, all of my childrearing methods.

illustration from UDN.com

And, even though he’s away at work, he was, ill at ease, my LINE kept ringing nonstop.  “Mom, nothing’s going on, I just want to check in.”  “Did you put her down to a nap yet?”  “She cries a lot these few days, can you manage it?”, and, to stop him from flash-messaging, I’d sent him the photos of my young granddaughter, even though it was over forty years since I took care of a baby, but I still got it, I can, so totally, handle, a baby.

And, I’d, finally set my son’s mind to ease, but he’d, gotten me worried, I’d told him as he was getting out, “If you bump into a gambler, a drunk, or a drug dealer, if something feels like it’s, going south, RUN like the wind!” my son laughed at me, “it don’t matter who’s calling the deliveries, so long as they pay up.”  He’d not come home late in the night, and I’d not dared, sat in the living room and wait up, and, as I heard the key turn the lock outside, my unsettled heart calmed, and suddenly, by the following second, I was, able to, drift off into dreams.

Recalling how forty years back, I’d worked night and day, to help pay up the debts accumulated by my in-law’s family, my son were given to my ill mother-in-law and my chain-smoking father-in-law, I’d often snuck back home during work, to check out my eldest with two snots rolling down from his nostrils, getting held too tight, by my mother-in-law, whose bones had been malformed from arthritis; and my youngest son was often burned by accident by my father-in-law who had a cigarette in his mouth, dozed off to sleep, and yet, as I saw how sorry my in-laws looked, I couldn’t blame them.  And, no matter how awful, how insecure I’d felt, I still needed to believe, that these grandparents who may not be able to handle them, have the best intentions in mind, and will do their best, to care for my young sons.

Let go.  Set your heart at ease.  I’d, warned myself: the outbreaks shall pass soon, and everything will become normal, I just need to take care of my granddaughter well, so my son won’t have any worries, working, we both, need to, have that ease of mind here.

And so, this showed, just how, intertwined the parents and children are, from before, you worried about your own young, and now, he worries about his own young, and you too, and this, is just how parents and children are, we all worry too much!

An Accidental Father

A conversation with one’s own young, on the duties, obligations, responsibilities of parents, from a legal angle here, translated…

“Mommy, what are you reading?”, my younger child came toward my desk, saw that blue-covered, yellowed pages, diary in my hand.

“This was your grandfather’s diary.”  I’d held back my tears, put it up in silence.

“When I was young, grandpa always told me, I’ll take you to Carrefour, RT Mart, bought me all those treats!”, my daughter got nostalgic.

this???  photo from online

Yeah!  Mommy’s busy working, grandpa and grandma came to mommy’s rescue every time, and I’d needed them to come watch you and your older brother often.

“I loved going to the toy store with papa!”, my older son told, “I saw a limited edition Gundam that’s very expensive, papa didn’t have that much money, but I’d told papa that by tomorrow, it’ll be, gone!  And on that very night, papa went and bought it!”  my son has the potential as a scam artist, and I’m sure, that my father was, more than glad to get, cheated too.

“I don’t think I remember my inside grandpa and grandma at all!”, my younger daughter stated.

“what inside grandpa and grandma?  Your paternal grandparents, my parents!”, her father laughed and straightened her out.

Because they got too old, and, God called them up earlier to be fairies, you were still, too young.

or this…photo from online

So as mommy read through papa’s diary, she got sad.  Especially how today is Father’s Day, I really hope that I can have that meal with my father, to watch T.V. together, to have this, ordinary sort of a bliss again.

My younger daughter hesitated a bit, ran to get a cup of tea, and, served it with great respect to her father.

And her father flipped through the papers, and let out a cool sort of “hmmmmmmmm!”, and I saw that smile, curling up his lips, he was now, gloating!

“there’s only one dad, you must, cherish him!”, my son is now, sucking up too, with a fan, fanning to cool his dad down, maybe, he’d not done well on an exam, and needed to put out his father’s fire before he’d shown the papers for him to sign.

There’s, that mix and match of emotions that’s between parents and children, sometimes, what happened was, more dramatic that the soap, more imaginative than those novels.

Remembered how we’d all gone to see that Japanese film, “My Accidental Father”?  the gynecology nurse envied someone else’s happiness, switched the two newborn infants up.  Six years later, the truth came out, how were these two families supposed to, cope with, this huge accident in their lives?

The two fathers, one was an elite excellent architect; the other, an electrician, who’s, easy going in nature.  Which one would best fit the children to be raised in?

“What if, this actually happened?”, my younger daughter became worried.

The way the movie worked out, it’s, gentle and understanding.  But in reality, the parent-child relationships, were based, off of the laws.  There are the adopted children and the blood-related children in the facets of the law.

“Children should follow the filial piety duties toward their parents.  As Civil Law 1084 stated.”  Dad recited it aloud.

“Second, parents should protect and educate the underage minors”, mommy added.

You want to match memories?  You’d forgotten to hold my hands first time we went out on a date, as we crossed that intersection; on our second date, you’d dozed off, started snoring; and, by the third date………………(deleted millions of characters here!)

Dad who was on his tea started choking on it, started coughing hard, and, escaped into the bathrooms.

“Mommy, there’s a sixteen-year-old daughter who’d sued her father, because he wouldn’t buy her a cell phone”, my older son thumbed through the online news.

“there are the fathers who’d sued their young for parental support, but the judge said the children didn’t need to pay it!”, my younger daughter discovered something as well.

Ahh, the stories mom heard and saw in court, last longer than the Arabian Nights!

There was a middle aged man who got in court and started crying on the stand, it’d made mommy want to lose it too.

“Mommy don’t cry”, my older son handed a tissue to me, “I thought only daddy can get you worked up, can’t imagine someone else had too!”, came my husband’s coughing from the bathroom again!

“what had happened?”, my children both got curious.

That middle aged man’s father left the family when he was a young child, it was his mother who’d raised him all on her own, him and his two other siblings, with only enough money for a rental stay, they kept switching in and out of their residences, forgot to go to the land offices to change their addresses.  The three siblings took out the student loans, and worked part-time, get themselves through school, and finally, this middle aged man had his own family, started raising his own young, finally, he was able to give his mother a good life.

But, the middle aged man’s father suddenly returned, Social Services notified this man to go and claim his own father’s dead body.

“What?”, my daughter covered up her ears, couldn’t dare hear the rest of the story.

His father who’d only shown up as a registered name on his national identification card, finished his final passage of life in a nursing home.  Before this, the Social Services sent multiple notices to his registered address, to let them know that they needed to pay for the owed fees of having his father placed, but they’d, already moved out, and through the searches, the Social Services finally found the three brothers and sister.  Based off of the law, there’s the obligation for care, so the nursing home demanded that they pay for the money for their father’s care.

“But this dad had never been responsible at all toward his own young!”, my older son became confused.

During the time when their father went missing, the family didn’t know to report him missing, while their mother never filed for divorce either, let alone the children never knew they could file a petition to “relieve themselves of caretaking duties toward their father”.

“If the fathers didn’t care for their children when they were young, then he can’t ask them to take care of him when he’s old, is that what this means?”, my son inquired.

“Hmmm, it’s called ‘Without just cause not providing for one’s own children’, Civil Law 1118 section 1.”  Dad finally showed up, replied, “every unfortunate family has a different bad story.”  From before, the former generations said raising the children so they don’t need to worry about their old age, and now it’s, taking of the elderly years, watching out for the young.

“So, do we save the allowance you give us and pay you back when you’re older?”, my daughter asked.

Nope!  Child.  It’s the parents’ responsibilities, AND obligations to raise their young, same for how the children treat their own parents.  This is not a sales or a trade-off, it’s not quid-pro-quo, tit-for-tat, nor trading the younger years, for that permanent meal ticket in old age.

But, we must admit, that in this world, there are, the unfitting parents, also, the bad children too.  If this middle aged man’s father was found of not providing for his children when they were younger in evidence, the law must agree too, at this time, forcing the children to act kind, wouldn’t be just, or right.

“But this sort of cases are post-date.  Meaning, that you must file a formal lawsuit with the courts, and after you’d won the case, then, you will be alleviated from paying for the care.”, dad got serious, answering the inquiries now.

So, the debts accumulated by this middle aged man before he died, for his care, the country believed that it’s paying for him temporarily, that in the end, this middle-aged man will pay for.

“But, what if you don’t have children?”, my younger daughter voiced her worries, she’d not planned to get married, or have any kids.

It’s, the million dollar question of elderly caretaking, and national social security, how the policies should be, set up all right!

Should the only reason for what constitutes as parents and children based only off of blood?  And, the social security, is it an act of kindness, or a responsibilities for all of us, citizens to carry?

“Mom, stop worrying, you’ll get more wrinkles!”, my older son reminded me kindly.

It’d hit dad suddenly, he’d suggested, “Today’s Father’s Day, let’s go offer incense to both your grandfathers, and tell them we’re all very happy together.”

And then?

“Let’s have a gourmet meal, to thank me, as a responsible dad, of course!!!”, dad said, with that, affirmative tone of voice.

And so, this, is a discussion that’s, sparked up by the kids, and the parents are more than willing, to help the children get more educated, with their separate areas of expertise, and through this conversation shared with their young, both the parents and the children benefitted.

Traumatized, Between a Parent & a Child

The adults’ careless words that impacted a child into the adulthood years, this showed the extent of your words, and their effects in your children’s lives, translated…

When I was five, I’d always, slept, with upside down on my parents’, bed, they couldn’t understand why I’d needed to sleep with them, and, they couldn’t, get me to stop climbing in next to them in the middle of the nights, but, because I’d, adjusted my sleeping postures soon enough, they’d, allowed me to sleep with them, and they’d, forgotten this, tiny interlude of my, childhood years.

But I still remember something that upset me during this period of time. 

Late one night, I suddenly woke, heard my parents in conversation, I’d not moved an inch, I’d not wanted to listen in on their conversations, just wanted to, fall back to sleep again, but, a sentence that’s stayed with me came into my ear canals, ‘if my daughter was so-and-so that would be wonderful!”

The person my parents were referring to was my older female cousin, very well-behaved, did excellent academically too, it’s only natural, that the adults, loved her so, but, am I, really, that awful?  I’d started, to cry in the darkness, until my parents finished their conversations, fell asleep, I’d, still, stayed, wide awake, shocked, at this “secret” I’d heard.

“So, mom and dad don’t love me”, this thought started, rooting itself down inside of my young mind, and after this long, even though, the vines that entangled me in were, already, cut off almost, completely, but, I couldn’t, uproot this thought one bit.

The adults may think, that children can’t understand, or that they forget easily, and sometimes, their, careless words, blurted out, had caused the traumas in your young’s mind forever.

And this is precisely W-H-Y, you FUCKING (don’t pardon me here!!!) adults need to WATCH what you say in front of your kids, because even IF you think they’re not listening, their eyes are still, watching G-O-D, with their ears, tuned IN to your words, so, DO take this into consideration, the next time you want to blurt something out, even IF you don’t mean it so seriously, your young will, take it to heart, ‘cuz that’s, what we, children, ALL do!!!

My Daughter’s Response, on Parent-Child Interactions

Allowing your own young to experience, so s/he knows, that MOMMY is, RIGHT!!!  Translated…

My daughter woke up late this morn, I’d placed her breakfast into a box, for her to bring to school.  At this time, she’d told me she’d not wanted to eat it at school.  I’d hollered, “Why?”, she’d, minced her lips, refused to tell me another word, I’d thought for a bit, and asked, “do you want to take the time before classes to finish your assignments?”, she’d nodded, “it’s too time consuming to have to eat breakfast at school, it takes away the time from me doing my homework.”

I had to admit, I’d felt, a bit, emotional as she’d told me this.  I thought it’s, defeating the whole purpose of things, thinking of finishing her assignments on time, not caring about her health.  Besides, “homework’, is supposed to be work, taken home to complete, and yet, she’d been, rushing through the assignments in the mornings as she arrived at school, to the point of, giving up breakfast, this is, so totally, not, understandable.

As I was about to go into lecture at her, suddenly, I thought of myself.  In the elementary years, I’d gotten too busy with the various kinds of contests and competitions; in middle school, the pressures of academic made me buried in books; entered into high school, I’d, insisted I could, handle both my academia and my extracurricular activities; as I started n college, I’d, burned off my youth like crazy—but, during those years, my mother never said anything.  Surely, she’d, nagged, it’s just, she couldn’t, do a thing, as her daughter is, very much an, independent thinker, and, finally, allowed me to, be.

Many years later, in the mornings, I stood before my daughter, and, suddenly understood, my own mother’s, nagging back then.  Toward the young, mothers always showed their care and concerns, there were the, worries, always wanting to, offer the best answers for her life.  But, because I’d been a kid myself, I knew, that a lot of the lessons in life, you must learn, personally, for you, to come to realize, what is, the correct answer, and so, I’d come to understand, that the best thing for me to do right now, is, just zip it up.

Finally, as I saw her off into the school, I’d stated, “mom believe you are, able to decide correctly for yourself, breakfast, or not breakfast!”

I can even, give, the correct answer, and then, justify my claims of why my answer is correct, and yet, no matter how perfect I’d, argued my case, it won’t, do a thing for my daughter, because it’s not the answer she’d found by herself.  The only thing I can do, is to give her room, to discover, to hit, for her to, persuade herself, at the same time, having the faith, that she is, able to, persuade herself.

Turns out, what’s harder in caring for our young, is letting them go, to allow them, to make their own, choices in life.

In the evenings as she came back home, she took out the packed breakfast box.  I took a look, nothing’s inside.  She stuck out her tongue and told me, “I was so hungry, and so, I couldn’t help, but eat it.”

Maybe, these lessons of our young, rather than, drying up our own tongue, why not, allow their, rumbling stomachs, to teach them what’s correct.

And so, this, is how a child learns, that her mommy’s, right (and of course, us mommies, are ALWAYS and FOREVER right!), but for our young to understand that we ARE right, sometimes, we need to, stop worrying about them, to just, let go, and let them touch the FIRE, so they get burned, and that hurt register inside their brains, OUCH!  It’s hot, and I shouldn’t touch, like this mother did, for her own young, to LEARN, that HER mother, is R-I-G-H-T!!!

Meeting My Daughter Who Ran Away, a Poem

On accepting death, finally, translated…

She is My Daughter

But She, Ran Away

Perhaps, it’s the Wind, the Night Skies

The Stars, the Clouds, the Sunsets Tempting Her on

The River Flowed, the Grasses Grew

I Don’t Know How to, Call Her Back

She was My Daughter of the Past

Born, into the Night, Forgotten, by Sunrise

She was, Never, Returned to My Side

Only Left a Letter, at that High Tower of the Ancient Times

Under the Mulberry Tree, with One Solitary Leaf Fallen Beneath it

Before, the Hooves of, a Fatigued, Steed

Maybe Time had, Never, Left

But, I’d Not Seen Her at Chang-An, Nor Taipei

The Galaxies on the Posters, in the, Nighttime Skies

My Dreams, Premeditated, an Everlasting Dance

My Daughter Who’d, Left, Did She, Venture from the Life Before, to the Next Life Already

What is She Doing Now

As the Rain Falls, the Pond Pretending to be Asleep

That White-Feathered Bird with Its Wings, Damp, Flew Across the Skies

Those Pieces of Driftwood Stood, on the Distant Mountains

Walking Down the, Unknown Paths, Did She, Hear My Calls Out to Her

From Afar

And so, this, is on death, the narrator had lost his child, and, perhaps, she’d died, just a few days after birth, but, no matter how brief the time the man had with her, he’d, already, loved her very much, and, this poem, is his process of, letting her go.

Seeing You Off

The final passage, remembering the woman whom you’d come to know, as your, mother-in-law, from your father-in-law’s second marriage, translated…

Sitting silent, in the back of the church, on the wooden bench, stared at the white coffin, paved with flowers in the shrine, hearing the pastor slowly, told of your, eighty-two years of colorful life; as the pastor described you as being straightforward, generous, it’d, made me cry, and I’d, lifted up my head and smiled, started recalling the thirteen years of friendships we’d, come to share in life.

It was a snowy day in April in Norway, my husband who’d, planned to be single for the res of his life, drove me in his car, and, came to your door, my father-in-law, and his second wife, you, immediately led us in, and, in a panic, started, preparing the snacks, the coffees to serve to me, an unwelcomed guest.  Back then I wasn’t, fluent in Norwegian, I’d spoken in fluent German with my father-in-law, and, it’d, made you, who lived in the U.S. for over a decade object, that you had difficulties understanding us, and, we’d, realized that we had, excluded you, and immediately, we’d, both started switching to talking in English then.

On Christmas Eve that first year of our marriage, you’d, burst the hopes of your three daughters, sons-in-law, and nine grandchildren’s dreams of family union, you’d come to our home, and, baked for us, the traditional Norwegian pork ribs, meat balls, and sausages, and prepared seven types of pastries.  And, as lucky as I in the first time, I’d, scooped up, the only almond, hidden inside the rice pudding, and received, that special award for piggy almond candy.  Underneath the Christmas tree with the Norwegian flag, were the gifts, stacked up, you, my father-in-law, my husband and I, the four of us, sat around the tree, and started, tearing open the presents, the excitement, the joys, it’d, filled up the house.

The summer that my mother, second aunt, and nephew visited Norway, you’d not just, invited them, you’d also, found your youngest who’s my age, along with your young granddaughter, who’s around the same age as my nephew as company, you’d, set up a wooden board in your yard, with the balloons, and started, shooting the darts.  And even though, it’d rained that day, we’d, still, had a ton of fun; to this very day, my mother still talked of the cherries, the raspberries, and currants you grew in your own yard.

On your seventy-fifth, because your body was, ailing, you’d, delayed your birthday celebration in May, but you’d, not told us flat out, only asked, if we’re available to show up in June.  And, as my husband and I arrived, I’d found, that it was, a family birthday celebration your daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had set up for you; we’d, not brought anything, and we were, embarrassed, but you’d laughed and told, that it was because you didn’t want any presents, that was why, you’d, not told us it was to celebrate your birthday.

illustration from UDN.com

2017 was, especially cruel to you.  First, your best friend who lived in the U.S. died in the spring at the age of over ninety, several months later, it was, my father-in-law, the second love of your life, passed away, in the autumn.  On the evening my father-in-law passed, you, me, and my husband, the three of us, stayed close by his side, until he’d, swallowed his, last breath.  You’d, dragged your, deteriorated health, your, slow steps home; the following day, we took you to the funeral home, to set up my father-in-law’s final affairs, you’d spoken of how you’d, not slept through the night, that you’d, paced around in the living room; even as your kids and grandkids were there, to accompany you, it still, didn’t, take away from your losing your husband.

Within two years after my father-in-law’s funeral, I sat here, in this, same church, heard the same pastor, hosting your funeral.  This pastor was the one who’d, conducted the wedding ceremony of you and my father-in-law thirty years back, he’d retired since, but, two years ago, he’d, made an exception for my father-in-law, spoken on his funeral, and this time, for you too.  You marrying my father-in-law, had once cast a huge shadow for my husband’s not introducing me to his own mother, but, for the eighteen years, the three of you had, died, and all the displeases of the past are now, gone, with the wind.  I’d heard of the news of your death as I’d returned from Egypt, I’d, come, to see you off, I’m so grateful for your kindness toward me, even more grateful, that you were, a “stand-in mother-in-law” to me, giving my families and I, such, wonderful, memories.

And so, this, is on how strong the connections of strangers who became, families are, and this still just showed, how if you’re kind to your daughters or sons-in-law, they will, reciprocate, and love you like you were, their own, parents too.  This is quite rare, to see a stepmother-in-law and a daughter-in-law get along so very well together.

The Air, My Friend

The column by Jimi Liao, translated by me…

The child to the sloth, or, the sloth, to the child…

Let’s take it slow now…………

No matter how quickly the world changes………

Let’s just, take it slow……………

No matter, how worked up others are around us………

We will, continue to, take it slow together………

One day…

Someone will, finally, get us………

Understanding, that slower is faster……

We’re in no rush……………

Slowly, slowly, slower, slower………………

And this, would be how hard you’re all, PUSHING your children, to catch up to your tempos or paces, and by doing that, you’d, deprived your young, of taking their times, to grow UP slow, at their own paces, and, at the same time, you’d, SLAUGHTERED your young children like P-I-G-S, depriving them, of a happy, AND carefree childhood!

She Was Mine, a Child, Lost in Time…

She was mine, a child, lost in time, and time has, its, death-grip around her throat, slowly, suffocating her, choking her, into that slow death.

She was mine, a child, lost in time, the one who’d, never had the chance of being “formed”, and yet, I still, loved (in the past), love (in the present tense!) her so very much, simply because, she was, mine, and there need not be, any other reasons.

She was mine, a child, lost in time, and, she’d, drowned slowly, in the river of time, and, there was, nothing I could do, but to, kneel by the riverbeds, and cried all my tears, and my tears, in turn, formed another, grander river, then the river of time, my child had been, drowned to death in.

She was mine, a child, lost in time, the one who’d, never made it, the one who’d been dead, way before her time! And, there was still, NOTHING I could’ve done, or can do about this death that I’d been carrying, since 2008………

She was mine, a child, lost in time, and, in lost time’s embrace, I know, she’ll, grow up safe and sound, and besides, it’s better, that my daughter stays DEAD, because this world is so full of FUCKING shit, and I surely as HELL wouldn’t want what had happened to me, to happen to her too!

She was mine, a child, lost in time, and, time shall, keep her safe and sound, untouched, and, she wouldn’t lose her innocence as I did, when I was, a very young child myself………

Using the Soaps with the Idols to Teach the Children, on Parent-Child Relations

The parents need to think hard, on WHY it is, that the kids wouldn’t DARE tell them something that’s important that’s happened with them, what this mother learned, from the soap operas, translated…

A short while ago, my daughter and I got into a soap with the idols, with a scene where the female main character accidentally lost the bracelet that was given to her by her fiancée’s grandmother, although she’d found one that looked like it online, but it’d cost $200,000. And, she was pressed for the time to get it, and she saw an ad posted by loan sharks, and called in for the amount to buy the bracelet. In order to pay up the debts, she’d started part-timing like crazy after her regular job, and, other than stressing herself out, she’d started playing that game of spies with her families too.

As I’d watched, I’d frowned, asked my daughter, “Do you think she’d handled it well?” “She needed to take responsibilities for her own losing that bracelet!” “Or perhaps, she could go to her families to discuss the matter.” “She’s not a mama’s girl, she’s already working, and, if she’d told her families, her families will probably, grill her for being careless and stupid!” “Family will always be your pillar of support, and even if her family members scolded her, it’s from the perspectives of care and concerns! Being truthful with the family, that, is showing trust to one another, and, after you’d lied once, you’d needed to, make up even more lies to cover them all up, how tiring would that be, can you imagine?”

On that day, I saw a note on the entrance at our house by my daughter, she’d come clean, that she’d lost the cell phone I gave to her two days ago at cram school. She was flustered and scared, and didn’t dare to tell me, but after she’d seen the conversations of the woman in the soap, she’d, decided to, admit to her own mistakes, and reported her cell phone missing to the police already, and stopped the services.

As my daughter came home, and mentioned what happened to me, she’d started crying, and, she must’ve been feeling so bad these past couple of days. I think, perhaps, there’s, that fragile heart that’s, underneath the seemingly tough exteriors, that are, in need of the families’ love and support.

And, from this, it’d, reminded me, that it is truly difficult, balancing between the disciplining and loving our own young. The kind of education I’d received from my own parents are, “the more harshly we’d treated you, it’d showed how much we cared for you”, and, I’d been, quite strict with my children, and, had I know about this as it’d just happened, naturally, I would’ve, blown up, and not only that, I’d, probably, nagged my daughter about it incessantly too, it’s a wonder, that she’d not dared tell me what had happened, right after it’d, happened. Thankfully, my daughter listened to what I’d, told her, and, that soap opera, became, the role model for us both accidentally.

And so, this still showed, how there’s a lesson to learn everywhere, so long as, you’re willing to, keep your minds open, and take the lessons that the world is, teaching to you.

Watching You Leave, the Thoughts of a Mother

Translated…

On Sunday evening, my daughter with her huge backpack, is headed to her grandparents’ house, I’d sent her off by the door, and, nagged on how she’d not put her shoes on right, she’d mumbled back, “I’ll put it on properly in the elevator!”, I’d insisted that she was to, put her shoes on properly before she leaves, she’d, bent down, redid her laces with that unwillingness, and, I’d had, a few extra seconds, to stare at her.

Since a decade ago, my spouse’s name was stricken off my national identification card, I’d lost the days of accompanying her by the day, and only on the weekends, did we get time together to share. Every Friday evening, I’d, rushed off work, road across the city, to a kindergarten, to pick her up and, my daughter curled underneath the lamplight of the kindergarten, with her accompanying bunny, and, her eyes and smiles, turned into the stars in the skies the moment she saw me. Several years passed by, it’s now, that young woman who’d taken the MRT, the bus, to my place.

As the elevator headed downstairs slowly, I’d calculated the timing just right, went to the lanai to look, the red-topped bus slowly came close, and stopped, right underneath the bus stop; my daughter was sitting in it, her huge white backpack on her legs, with her eyes, staring up ahead, lips slightly curled upward. The autumn sun was eye catching, and, being able to travel on her own makes her excited.

Very long ago, I too, watched the bus as it sped off into the distance, imagined my own sunny and bright futures too, filled with a ton of dreams, embracing the impossibilities of life. back then, I’d never imagined, that in an unknown corner, there it was, my mother, with her tears, staring at the direction I left in.

And now, I’d become, an adolescent’s mother too, and, the once-a-week that we’d met, was what was left for me to take with in this richness of her youthfulness, but, became an aging life’s extravagance. The social media, the pop music, the trending novels, there is, no boundaries, in the world of a teenage girl, and all I could do, was smile by her side and accompany her, but I’d still, cherished the time we spent together.

not my photo…

I know, that one day, she will eventually own her own universe, write her own stories, and that I can’t, keep her all to myself. That mother was only a caretaker when she was younger, but not the one who’d owned her for this life, when she has the ability, to spread her wings and fly, or resting, on that tree on her own, she wouldn’t allow me to groom her, to smooth her feathers anymore, just as back then I’d left my own home too, although I’d bumped and fell, I’d never turned back toward my mother, and ask her to give me a hand.

And still, not butting into her life doesn’t mean that she’s not occupying my mind. After I’d lived alone for a bit, I read the words my mother wrote, “You will always be my child.”, no matter how bad life got, how awful living is, the mother will always recognize her own young; no matter how far you fly, the mother’s gazes will always be like that string connecting to the kite, glued, to the child’s body, hung there, not pulling the child down, close knit, but never broken off.

Right now, the bus my daughter rode is probably at the MRT station now. She’d, scanned her pass, and standing inside the trains, her feet, tapping to the music, reading through her book, an hour later, she will, arrive at her destination, happy, and safe and sound.

The thoughts of a mother, she’d watched her child come and go, from her place back to her husband’s home, and, she knew, that she needed to, let her daughter go, and the child is growing into a beautiful woman, and, she felt sad, because of how her daughter will eventually, spread her wings and fly, but that’s a part of what parents must face, because children WILL grow up, whether or NOT we want them to!!!