My grandfather passed away in China last night and it has been a while in coming. He was surrounded by most of his family.
我个人心情还算比较平静，只是有一点遗憾没有多认识爷爷奶奶。
可是，老爸，你还好吗？我该说些什么来安慰你呀？只要希望你知道依旧还有我们。
For the most part, I'm carrying on as usual.
Rest in peace, 爷爷。
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
what comes with growing older
This morning, I had to tell my dad that his dad was dying.
My grandpa's been sick for a while - in fact, my dad just returned from China where he was visiting his parents and brothers - but now my grandpa's on his deathbed (I don't know if he's passed yet), and my cousin Skyped me to let me know. He asked that I let my dad know so he could call home. So I called my dad at work.
I was never close with my paternal grandparents, a product of having grown up in a different country and visiting far too infrequently. I feel bad that I never knew them better - but mostly I am upset because my dad is clearly upset (and I have rarely seen him upset this way), because it's his father, because it means one day I'll be in that position and it's terrifying.
My mom lost her father when I was 9, but I don't think I was old enough then to really understand.
My grandpa's been sick for a while - in fact, my dad just returned from China where he was visiting his parents and brothers - but now my grandpa's on his deathbed (I don't know if he's passed yet), and my cousin Skyped me to let me know. He asked that I let my dad know so he could call home. So I called my dad at work.
I was never close with my paternal grandparents, a product of having grown up in a different country and visiting far too infrequently. I feel bad that I never knew them better - but mostly I am upset because my dad is clearly upset (and I have rarely seen him upset this way), because it's his father, because it means one day I'll be in that position and it's terrifying.
My mom lost her father when I was 9, but I don't think I was old enough then to really understand.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
on getting older but not old enough
Nothing particularly significant today, but my mood is really terrible regardless. I am feeling particularly surly and uncharitable with nothing specific to pin it on - perhaps it's the cumulation of small things.
I think I'm old at times. Especially lately, with people graduating undergrad and making all these posts about how it's the end of an era, how they'll never again have these easy times with friends, drunken jokes, late nights, a certain kind of freedom from any real-world responsibilities, and so on. It's familiar, the kind of thing college graduates have been saying for probably centuries (or at least decades, if we're allowing for the evolution of popular undergrad experiences to what it is today). Yet these posts make me feel my age, because these are people I consider my equals, close to me in age, but I forget that they are younger. Most of the time it doesn't matter, until posts like these make me realize I left undergrad three years ago. Not this year or last year, but three years ago. It's not such a huge amount of time but it drives home, nonetheless, that a certain sect of my friends are all younger than me - some of them significantly younger than me. Why am I not as close with the friends who are older? It's probably because I'm still incredibly immature inside. Not to say that anyone younger in years is automatically more immature, but that I still feel incredibly young, inexperienced, irresponsible, and immature remains true.
My parents are getting old. Not just older, but old. The meds they have to take, their health worries... The way they are surprised by their own ages each year, the way they are tired, the way my mom hates it a little bit - all of it makes me ashamed that I can't be more grown-up, more adult, more capable of taking care of myself and taking care of them.
People both older and younger tell me I'm still young. What am I supposed to say? In some ways, it's not true. Twenty-four this year is not that young. In some ways, it is. There's still a lot of my life left (presumably). I still have so far to go.
*
I just got back from a walk with my mom; we had a good discussion (read: heated argument that resolved into a good discussion) about Asians in America, first generation of immigrants versus their Westernized (but still Asian-influenced) children, political representation, minority status, speaking out, working hard, changing the world... I used to be afraid I would be like my parents when I grew up. Then I was afraid I wouldn't be, that I wouldn't be Asian enough. Now, I think I am more at peace with the fact that I will be different in some ways (ways that I am grateful for), many ways, perhaps - but that doesn't mean I will ever forget where my roots are.
My Asian-American identity is one I am wrestling with better than my age. We fight a lot of battles with ourselves, don't we?
My parents are getting old. Not just older, but old. The meds they have to take, their health worries... The way they are surprised by their own ages each year, the way they are tired, the way my mom hates it a little bit - all of it makes me ashamed that I can't be more grown-up, more adult, more capable of taking care of myself and taking care of them.
People both older and younger tell me I'm still young. What am I supposed to say? In some ways, it's not true. Twenty-four this year is not that young. In some ways, it is. There's still a lot of my life left (presumably). I still have so far to go.
I just got back from a walk with my mom; we had a good discussion (read: heated argument that resolved into a good discussion) about Asians in America, first generation of immigrants versus their Westernized (but still Asian-influenced) children, political representation, minority status, speaking out, working hard, changing the world... I used to be afraid I would be like my parents when I grew up. Then I was afraid I wouldn't be, that I wouldn't be Asian enough. Now, I think I am more at peace with the fact that I will be different in some ways (ways that I am grateful for), many ways, perhaps - but that doesn't mean I will ever forget where my roots are.
My Asian-American identity is one I am wrestling with better than my age. We fight a lot of battles with ourselves, don't we?
Monday, January 3, 2011
on mothers and their motherly concern
I love my mom but I have a complicated relationship with her (as we all do with our own moms, I feel like). Without plumbing too deeply into our history (which half of you know anyway), allow me to complain that she is driving me up a wall in a very shallow, very Standard Mom way tonight.
I'm more or less done packing for Singapore (aside from things like my computer, which you may have guessed) and am readying myself to be up at 4:30 tomorrow to head to the airport to spend the next 24 hours of my life on a motherfucking plane (hopefully without the motherfucking snakes) or in airport terminals. My mom, in momly fashion, is paranoid about everything. She is positive that I will somehow die before I reach Singapore, or maybe once I get there, because my feet will be cold on the plane, or I will be unable to sleep on the plane, or I will be unable to pay for a trolley to haul my luggage through customs.
"When you go through customs, can you wheel along both your bags?" (This because she thinks I have the strength of a wounded gazelle - or less, probably, since often wounded gazelles can still manage to run a bit. She thinks I have the strength of gently deflating balloon. Fwwoosh, said Mei.) "Maybe you should get a trolley. Oh, airports have trolleys! Make sure to get a trolley," she tells me. Then she remembers how airports try to leech every cent they can out of you. "Oh, wait, what if you need Singapore money to get a trolley? You're only carrying USD. If you have to, convert some money at the airport and then pay for the trolley."
Oh, Mother, I never thought of that!
"Do you know if you have to pay for a trolley in Singapore? Should you convert some money before you go?"
One, how on earth would I know, and two, it's too late.
Seriously, thank you for your concern but your stress is stressing me out. I don't mean to sound unappreciative of her concern because, yeah, it would suck if my mom was like, "Daughter? Going halfway around the world for four months? Doesn't ring a bell. Have fun walking to the airport tomorrow morning!" But honestly, mothers.
You know how they are.
I promise I will not die of dehydration on the plane. I promise I will not take out my money and put it in plain sight on my body and beg for someone to steal it from me. I promise I will not mortally offend J's mom's ancestors back fifteen generations. I promise I will call (via Skype, anyway). I promise I will write (via email). I promise to not die or get beaten by canes.
Love,
your not-completely-incompetent daughter Mei
I'm more or less done packing for Singapore (aside from things like my computer, which you may have guessed) and am readying myself to be up at 4:30 tomorrow to head to the airport to spend the next 24 hours of my life on a motherfucking plane (hopefully without the motherfucking snakes) or in airport terminals. My mom, in momly fashion, is paranoid about everything. She is positive that I will somehow die before I reach Singapore, or maybe once I get there, because my feet will be cold on the plane, or I will be unable to sleep on the plane, or I will be unable to pay for a trolley to haul my luggage through customs.
"When you go through customs, can you wheel along both your bags?" (This because she thinks I have the strength of a wounded gazelle - or less, probably, since often wounded gazelles can still manage to run a bit. She thinks I have the strength of gently deflating balloon. Fwwoosh, said Mei.) "Maybe you should get a trolley. Oh, airports have trolleys! Make sure to get a trolley," she tells me. Then she remembers how airports try to leech every cent they can out of you. "Oh, wait, what if you need Singapore money to get a trolley? You're only carrying USD. If you have to, convert some money at the airport and then pay for the trolley."
Oh, Mother, I never thought of that!
"Do you know if you have to pay for a trolley in Singapore? Should you convert some money before you go?"
One, how on earth would I know, and two, it's too late.
Seriously, thank you for your concern but your stress is stressing me out. I don't mean to sound unappreciative of her concern because, yeah, it would suck if my mom was like, "Daughter? Going halfway around the world for four months? Doesn't ring a bell. Have fun walking to the airport tomorrow morning!" But honestly, mothers.
You know how they are.
I promise I will not die of dehydration on the plane. I promise I will not take out my money and put it in plain sight on my body and beg for someone to steal it from me. I promise I will not mortally offend J's mom's ancestors back fifteen generations. I promise I will call (via Skype, anyway). I promise I will write (via email). I promise to not die or get beaten by canes.
Love,
your not-completely-incompetent daughter Mei
Sunday, August 15, 2010
coasting on these august waves
So the reason I've been so AWOL since coming back to NC is that the day after I get home, on Friday, a ton of my mom's old college roommates and classmates have come into town for a 30 year reunion type thing. She and J's dad know the same people, so it's an assortment of random Chinese people come from all over the US (Cali, Philly, STL, Toronto even...) to congregate here for the weekend to catch up and then head out to the beach for three days. So that's been busy and loud and full of Chinese! I've helped entertain some (actually exercising Chinese skills, omg, they are so rusty) and have otherwise hid out some too.
We then headed out to the beach for a week: Emerald Isle, NC. There was a house and it was full of people and the beach was lovely, the water was warm, and much food and relaxation (and mahjong) was had by all. I am now home and ridiculously tan and whining about skin cancer to all who will put up with me. It was a ton of fun though. FB contains all my pictures.
In some other updates -- my brother's voice has dropped! What is this growing up business, really? Still, J's little brother John (now seven, attending second grade, utterly adorable) remains my surrogate little brother. He's a total sweetheart and he makes me ridiculously happy. I sort of wish I'd been older and better able to appreciate my own brother's cuteness at that age; when he was 7, however, I was 16 and surly about him in the way of all teenage girls, I suppose. Now it's his turn to be the sullen teenager...
Also, I finally got around to reading and finishing The White Road by Lynn Flewelling and I enjoyed it much more than Shadows Return. But mostly it makes me crave the first two books of the series but I suppose I am glad that the series is continuing. I am also excited for Lorna Freeman's The Flames of Reckoning, though that will be ages before it's complete, much less out for public consumption. :(
In movie news, I watched RockNRolla, a ridiculous Guy Ritchie movie about London gangsters with British accents, heists and intrigue and action, and Tom fucking Hardy. His part was minor but I sort of rolled over in glee every single time he was on screen. He was fantastic as Handsome Bob. I wanted to hug him a lot when I didn't want to lick him, I DON'T KNOW, MY HORMONES ARE OUT OF WHACK WHEN IT COMES TO TOM HARDY. God. I want a sequel to this movie. (Or "This Means War". Right the fuck now.) On a more serious note, while Tom Hardy didn't have a huge role in the movie, I think he did a very good job acting and getting into his character. I will get on his and JGL's other movies soonish!
I was going to watch Velvet Goldmine today but instead watched EPL: Liverpool v. Arsenal. Cole got redcarded during his debut, ahh, I hope he is all right physically; Stevie played and looked absolutely fit; Nando was subbed in late in the second half and everyone sang his song (which delights me because fuck yeah TORRES TORRES); Agger might have gotten a concussion; and poor Reina scored an own goal in the 90th or so minute to equalize after a long Liverpool lead. ;__;. But I have faith in my team! And, yes, I suppose I've acceded to the fact that they are my team now. I will work on being a proper fan.
Ugh, I don't want to think about the RL I must face in a week, heading back to STL to pack and move and prep for the fall semester. This semester will be wretched busy with classes and work and Note editing and MPRE-studying (fucking ethics, how do they work) and form-filling (to hash out visas and applications and things I will need for my spring exchange to Singapore!!!).
But for now, I am content in these last vestiges of summer break.
We then headed out to the beach for a week: Emerald Isle, NC. There was a house and it was full of people and the beach was lovely, the water was warm, and much food and relaxation (and mahjong) was had by all. I am now home and ridiculously tan and whining about skin cancer to all who will put up with me. It was a ton of fun though. FB contains all my pictures.
In some other updates -- my brother's voice has dropped! What is this growing up business, really? Still, J's little brother John (now seven, attending second grade, utterly adorable) remains my surrogate little brother. He's a total sweetheart and he makes me ridiculously happy. I sort of wish I'd been older and better able to appreciate my own brother's cuteness at that age; when he was 7, however, I was 16 and surly about him in the way of all teenage girls, I suppose. Now it's his turn to be the sullen teenager...
Also, I finally got around to reading and finishing The White Road by Lynn Flewelling and I enjoyed it much more than Shadows Return. But mostly it makes me crave the first two books of the series but I suppose I am glad that the series is continuing. I am also excited for Lorna Freeman's The Flames of Reckoning, though that will be ages before it's complete, much less out for public consumption. :(
In movie news, I watched RockNRolla, a ridiculous Guy Ritchie movie about London gangsters with British accents, heists and intrigue and action, and Tom fucking Hardy. His part was minor but I sort of rolled over in glee every single time he was on screen. He was fantastic as Handsome Bob. I wanted to hug him a lot when I didn't want to lick him, I DON'T KNOW, MY HORMONES ARE OUT OF WHACK WHEN IT COMES TO TOM HARDY. God. I want a sequel to this movie. (Or "This Means War". Right the fuck now.) On a more serious note, while Tom Hardy didn't have a huge role in the movie, I think he did a very good job acting and getting into his character. I will get on his and JGL's other movies soonish!
I was going to watch Velvet Goldmine today but instead watched EPL: Liverpool v. Arsenal. Cole got redcarded during his debut, ahh, I hope he is all right physically; Stevie played and looked absolutely fit; Nando was subbed in late in the second half and everyone sang his song (which delights me because fuck yeah TORRES TORRES); Agger might have gotten a concussion; and poor Reina scored an own goal in the 90th or so minute to equalize after a long Liverpool lead. ;__;. But I have faith in my team! And, yes, I suppose I've acceded to the fact that they are my team now. I will work on being a proper fan.
Ugh, I don't want to think about the RL I must face in a week, heading back to STL to pack and move and prep for the fall semester. This semester will be wretched busy with classes and work and Note editing and MPRE-studying (fucking ethics, how do they work) and form-filling (to hash out visas and applications and things I will need for my spring exchange to Singapore!!!).
But for now, I am content in these last vestiges of summer break.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
where do your draw your lines in the sand?
Query: What constitutes being a good friend? Supporting them no matter what happens, because friendships mean you always know whose back you've got - or calling a friend out on their stupidity and potentially hurtful behavior, whether hurtful to them or to others?
I'd like to think it's the latter, as long as that calling out is still done with love and support. Sometimes that ends up in having to walk away from the friendship though, after repeated failed attempts, and that's kind of a terrifying thought. How far do you push? How many second or third chances do you give? How do you decide when enough is enough?
On the flip side, there are so many people who seem to opt for the first choice because there is less confrontation involved. Is that really the healthiest manifestation of friendship? Some people seem to think so, and take that blind leap of faith to support and defend a friend without examining the situation in further detail. Is that what friendship means, that you're not supposed to be objective or impartial? You should be biased towards your loved ones. But to what extent? Surely not to the point where you're encouraging harmful behavior.
There is so much gray area and undefined lines in our world of relationships.
The real bitch of the irony is this: I can be objective when it comes to my friends, but hell if I can apply the same standards to family. Family is something I am stupidly blind and defensive over and even if I can acknowledge their faults, no one else is allowed the same privilege of criticism.
In other news, I am discovering (belatedly) the music of McFly, am slowly making my way through my books, and am thinking about which movies deserve to be rewatched. Ocean's 11 is always fair game!
I'd like to think it's the latter, as long as that calling out is still done with love and support. Sometimes that ends up in having to walk away from the friendship though, after repeated failed attempts, and that's kind of a terrifying thought. How far do you push? How many second or third chances do you give? How do you decide when enough is enough?
On the flip side, there are so many people who seem to opt for the first choice because there is less confrontation involved. Is that really the healthiest manifestation of friendship? Some people seem to think so, and take that blind leap of faith to support and defend a friend without examining the situation in further detail. Is that what friendship means, that you're not supposed to be objective or impartial? You should be biased towards your loved ones. But to what extent? Surely not to the point where you're encouraging harmful behavior.
There is so much gray area and undefined lines in our world of relationships.
The real bitch of the irony is this: I can be objective when it comes to my friends, but hell if I can apply the same standards to family. Family is something I am stupidly blind and defensive over and even if I can acknowledge their faults, no one else is allowed the same privilege of criticism.
In other news, I am discovering (belatedly) the music of McFly, am slowly making my way through my books, and am thinking about which movies deserve to be rewatched. Ocean's 11 is always fair game!
Sunday, May 9, 2010
this world we leave behind us
Happy Mother's Day! I'm flying home to NC today so I will be able to greet my mom personally.
This morning, I packed up my winter clothes to take back to Raleigh and leave there; I'll be home at least a week before driving back. There are tentative plans to hang out with A and J (maybe V too?). I'd like to go to the beach while I'm at home, appreciate it while it's close, because Missouri is out in the middle of nowhere. Not sure yet if I'll be going with friends or family - my mom's going to be busy this week, but we'll see about the weekend.
Theres a lot to do after I get back to MO, too, but there's not too much I can do about that right now. My aunt invited me to visit New York sometime this summer, which would be nice. If I can get a part-time job and make some money, I would like to do that - meet up with S too and let her drag me over to NJ for an amazing Korean food experience. Best I can do considering my lack of ability to go to Asia this summer. I also dream of the day I can meet up with M again... :(
As for now, I'm crazy into a weird mix of music right now: old non-single SJ songs, Adam Lambert, and Steve Carlson and Jason Mann featuring Jensen. Damn, Jensen.
I really have nothing else to say. I should finish packing up my electronics, I guess, then eat some food before heading off to the airport.
This morning, I packed up my winter clothes to take back to Raleigh and leave there; I'll be home at least a week before driving back. There are tentative plans to hang out with A and J (maybe V too?). I'd like to go to the beach while I'm at home, appreciate it while it's close, because Missouri is out in the middle of nowhere. Not sure yet if I'll be going with friends or family - my mom's going to be busy this week, but we'll see about the weekend.
Theres a lot to do after I get back to MO, too, but there's not too much I can do about that right now. My aunt invited me to visit New York sometime this summer, which would be nice. If I can get a part-time job and make some money, I would like to do that - meet up with S too and let her drag me over to NJ for an amazing Korean food experience. Best I can do considering my lack of ability to go to Asia this summer. I also dream of the day I can meet up with M again... :(
As for now, I'm crazy into a weird mix of music right now: old non-single SJ songs, Adam Lambert, and Steve Carlson and Jason Mann featuring Jensen. Damn, Jensen.
I really have nothing else to say. I should finish packing up my electronics, I guess, then eat some food before heading off to the airport.
Friday, November 13, 2009
还记得那场音乐会的烟火♪
This has been a particularly spacey week for me. I have been more mentally and emotionally disengaged from life than I've been in a while, I think. I take forever responding to IMs and text messages because I forget I was talking to people, and I am just not all there in any of my classes anymore - even the ones I find interesting, like Censorship or Korean. It might just be this week, or it might be the timing of the semester.
I need to update my outlines for CWCC and Copyright and start figuring out what's going with Transnational. I need to start printing things and mailing things and applying for summer internships.
I really wish my hair would grow out quicker. I've decided I'm tired of short hair and I should just stick with long hair from now on - I'm pretty girly. I might as well own up to it now. It's at that awkward length right now that is both ugly and irritating.
I have actually been napping a lot this week, either a product or a cause of all my spaciness. I'm not quite sure, but it's been a little strange. Not bad, necessarily, just unusual.
I am excited that the regular season for college basketball is finally off the ground, though! I'm also impressed with how high UNC is ranked preseason despite most of our championship team leaving for the NBA. Here's hoping we do well, still.
I love sending and receiving snail mail. Nothing can quite replace letters, and that is why I will always like cute stationery and cute pens. It brings a smile to people's faces, I think, to get little surprises in the mail. I am definitely sending out Christmas cards again this year.
I also love my family and it's been nice to be reminded of that recently.
Hey, I think, no matter what, it's going to be all right. :)
There are these memories you'll never be able to take from me. These gorgeous, golden memories that define a lifetime of everyday epiphanies.
I need to update my outlines for CWCC and Copyright and start figuring out what's going with Transnational. I need to start printing things and mailing things and applying for summer internships.
I really wish my hair would grow out quicker. I've decided I'm tired of short hair and I should just stick with long hair from now on - I'm pretty girly. I might as well own up to it now. It's at that awkward length right now that is both ugly and irritating.
I have actually been napping a lot this week, either a product or a cause of all my spaciness. I'm not quite sure, but it's been a little strange. Not bad, necessarily, just unusual.
I am excited that the regular season for college basketball is finally off the ground, though! I'm also impressed with how high UNC is ranked preseason despite most of our championship team leaving for the NBA. Here's hoping we do well, still.
I love sending and receiving snail mail. Nothing can quite replace letters, and that is why I will always like cute stationery and cute pens. It brings a smile to people's faces, I think, to get little surprises in the mail. I am definitely sending out Christmas cards again this year.
I also love my family and it's been nice to be reminded of that recently.
Hey, I think, no matter what, it's going to be all right. :)
You're smiling like you've never forgotten how, wide and beautiful. There's joy in your laughter and in the way your arm slides around me, comfortable, like it's always belonged there. I can't take my eyes off you. I can't help following your every move, feeling like there's only the two of us in this big, big world.
There are these memories you'll never be able to take from me. These gorgeous, golden memories that define a lifetime of everyday epiphanies.
Monday, December 22, 2008
getting to know me
Everyone who knows me well should know the two things that define and shape me as a person, that guide me through my life:
(1) My culture and heritage. I'm Chinese, and it matters. I'm proud of that. No matter how much I love and admire the U.S., no matter how interested I am in Korean or Japanese culture, my family and my roots are in China. It will always--taste like, sound like, feel like--be home.
(2) My family. I want to make my parents proud, and to take care of them when they're older. I always wish I could do more. They've raised me to believe I can always work harder, do better, be more. It can be discouraging at times, but I want to be the best daughter and sister that I can be.
I'd like to think people who know me know this about me; that they acknowledge it, recognize it, appreciate it. I'd like to think they respect me for it.
This is who I am. These are two unchangeable parts of who I am, integral and eternal.
(1) My culture and heritage. I'm Chinese, and it matters. I'm proud of that. No matter how much I love and admire the U.S., no matter how interested I am in Korean or Japanese culture, my family and my roots are in China. It will always--taste like, sound like, feel like--be home.
(2) My family. I want to make my parents proud, and to take care of them when they're older. I always wish I could do more. They've raised me to believe I can always work harder, do better, be more. It can be discouraging at times, but I want to be the best daughter and sister that I can be.
I'd like to think people who know me know this about me; that they acknowledge it, recognize it, appreciate it. I'd like to think they respect me for it.
This is who I am. These are two unchangeable parts of who I am, integral and eternal.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
can you cry on cue?
Some things that have made me want to cry tonight:
My dad is so proud of me. He does it the Asian parent way: always comparing you to someone else's kid, always saying you could've done this or that better - at least to your face. As soon as you're gone, he's bragging about you to everyone he knows. My mom has mentioned this to me twice now, and it breaks my heart, because I'm happy that he can be proud of me, that I've given him something to brag about. But I also feel like I don't deserve it and that I should be working so much harder to achieve so much more than I have.
My brother suffers in part from my not being around because all he gets from my parents is the typical "do better, try harder, fix this, why are you like this, everyone else is better" lectures from my parents, and on top of that, also gets to hear my dad sing my praises to other people. He feels unloved, unappreciated. I wish I knew how to tell him how smart he is. He is much smarter than I was at that age. (I was better with people though; he ought to work on his social skills.) He has a lot to be proud of - it's just a matter of learning to understand and deal with Chinese parents. They're proud of him too.
I miss my mom's cooking, as cliché as that is.
M emailed me with a picture of her new hair in China. I miss her. It feels like it's been so long since I've seen her properly. I don't want to grow apart, but sometimes I feel like I don't deserve her. I'm too frivolous.
T is a really sweet, really understanding boyfriend. I don't know what I've done to deserve him.
Other M, shut up. The things you've said, I already know, and they're the last things I need to hear. You just come off supercilious and sort of patronizing. It's aggravating in the worst way, because I've never judged you that way. Please don't do it to me.
I feel like shit, physically. I hope I don't get sick.
My dad is so proud of me. He does it the Asian parent way: always comparing you to someone else's kid, always saying you could've done this or that better - at least to your face. As soon as you're gone, he's bragging about you to everyone he knows. My mom has mentioned this to me twice now, and it breaks my heart, because I'm happy that he can be proud of me, that I've given him something to brag about. But I also feel like I don't deserve it and that I should be working so much harder to achieve so much more than I have.
My brother suffers in part from my not being around because all he gets from my parents is the typical "do better, try harder, fix this, why are you like this, everyone else is better" lectures from my parents, and on top of that, also gets to hear my dad sing my praises to other people. He feels unloved, unappreciated. I wish I knew how to tell him how smart he is. He is much smarter than I was at that age. (I was better with people though; he ought to work on his social skills.) He has a lot to be proud of - it's just a matter of learning to understand and deal with Chinese parents. They're proud of him too.
I miss my mom's cooking, as cliché as that is.
M emailed me with a picture of her new hair in China. I miss her. It feels like it's been so long since I've seen her properly. I don't want to grow apart, but sometimes I feel like I don't deserve her. I'm too frivolous.
T is a really sweet, really understanding boyfriend. I don't know what I've done to deserve him.
Other M, shut up. The things you've said, I already know, and they're the last things I need to hear. You just come off supercilious and sort of patronizing. It's aggravating in the worst way, because I've never judged you that way. Please don't do it to me.
I feel like shit, physically. I hope I don't get sick.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
"home"
I miss home. I miss my family and I miss UNC and I miss the fair. I miss A, whose phone is always off, and J, who never replies to emails. I miss M, who's in China, and E, who just doesn't respond anymore.
I don't really miss my room or my bed - it's not the things that make it home. It's my parents I miss, and my brother. I miss home.
I'm not emo, despite how this post may sound. I'm really not even sad. I just...miss people. Fall makes me nostalgic, I guess.
But I do like it here. And I like the people here. And I'm happy.
But while everyone leaves for home during fall break, and I'm left here, I realize that I can be happy and still miss home.
I don't really miss my room or my bed - it's not the things that make it home. It's my parents I miss, and my brother. I miss home.
I'm not emo, despite how this post may sound. I'm really not even sad. I just...miss people. Fall makes me nostalgic, I guess.
But I do like it here. And I like the people here. And I'm happy.
But while everyone leaves for home during fall break, and I'm left here, I realize that I can be happy and still miss home.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
我想为你努力
I know they're proud of me, but sometimes it's not enough. They're not proud enough. There is always something they can say, always some fault they can find, something to criticize, something I haven't done right, or well enough, or at all. And it hurts, because they're right. This is the way I feel about myself, why I can never really accept all the accolades and praises people try to give me about my accomplishments: whatever I've done, I could've done more.
I don't dismiss what I've achieved as unimportant, but all of it really fades into the background when it comes to what I could be doing, should be doing, could've/should've/would've done instead. Take for instance this summer: I should've put more work into finding something to do after I come back from China and Korea. I tentatively have an option open at a restaurant, but it's not a guarantee. Why didn't I look for an internship instead? Why didn't I plan ahead for something sound and of worth, volunteer work, even? I don't take the initiative often enough.
I know my parents are proud of me, but they see better than anyone my faults and shortcomings, and they let me know-- They do it when they're irritable and stressed, which means that their guard is down and this is how they feel at the moment (that I'm not enough), but it also means that they don't always feel this way (which is some sort of comfort).
It does hurt; of course it does. I don't think anyone's opinions of me matter quite as much as my parents'. That doesn't mean I'll let their opinions of me shape my entire life or my beliefs, because I know I live a different life than they do, and I know they're wrong at times, but their opininos certainly do make an impact and carry weight.
It does hurt when they tell me I'm not good enough, but considering the rest of tonight, I'd rather they be upset with me than with each other. Because I at least know that they love me anyway, that they're only worried about me, wanting the best for me.
I hate it when they're upset with each other. I hate it when they're so tired, so sick, so stressed, that they snap at each other over every little thing. I hate that my mom hates her job, because there's so much pressure, and I hate that my dad feels the same way about his job, constantly struggling to prove himself to his superiors and support the family. I hate that my parents don't communicate well with each other, I hate that they don't understand why the other one is legitimately upset. I hate that they're both sick right now and that neither of their health is that good.
I hate that my parents are unhappy so much, or at all, and I hate that they're getting old.
I hate that I don't know what to do about it. I wish I could support the family financially and my mom could quit her job or find a different one. I wish I could take on more of their duties (basic household management issues, maybe) so they wouldn't have to worry about that on top of their jobs. I wish I could do more, that I was better, more efficient, more knowledgeable, more capable. I wish I could take care of them.
Sometimes I really feel my age. Most of the time, I feel older than I am. I'm always surprised when I remember, hey, I'm not even twenty-one yet. I'm only twenty? I feel twenty-three at least. But maybe it's good that I'm not, because I hope to be far more capable and accomplished by twenty-three.
Someone I really respect said, about his parents, "我会努力让你们过的幸福开心,你们的幸福是我在心里最大的安慰,希望老爸,老妈身体健康,儿子永远我爱你们." (I'll work hard so you can live happily; your happiness is my heart's greatest comfort. I hope Mom and Dad will stay healthy; your son will always love you.)
I want to want that. I want to stop feeling so selfish about my own wants. This trip to China and Korea--I want it so badly, but it's causing my parents an untold amount of stress and worry. And I'm so sorry. But I want to go, and I want them to trust me to go; but more than that, I want them to be happy for me. I want them to stop being so anxious. (But they're parents, worrying is what they do.)
They've done so much for me. I wish I could do something in return.
I don't dismiss what I've achieved as unimportant, but all of it really fades into the background when it comes to what I could be doing, should be doing, could've/should've/would've done instead. Take for instance this summer: I should've put more work into finding something to do after I come back from China and Korea. I tentatively have an option open at a restaurant, but it's not a guarantee. Why didn't I look for an internship instead? Why didn't I plan ahead for something sound and of worth, volunteer work, even? I don't take the initiative often enough.
I know my parents are proud of me, but they see better than anyone my faults and shortcomings, and they let me know-- They do it when they're irritable and stressed, which means that their guard is down and this is how they feel at the moment (that I'm not enough), but it also means that they don't always feel this way (which is some sort of comfort).
It does hurt; of course it does. I don't think anyone's opinions of me matter quite as much as my parents'. That doesn't mean I'll let their opinions of me shape my entire life or my beliefs, because I know I live a different life than they do, and I know they're wrong at times, but their opininos certainly do make an impact and carry weight.
It does hurt when they tell me I'm not good enough, but considering the rest of tonight, I'd rather they be upset with me than with each other. Because I at least know that they love me anyway, that they're only worried about me, wanting the best for me.
I hate it when they're upset with each other. I hate it when they're so tired, so sick, so stressed, that they snap at each other over every little thing. I hate that my mom hates her job, because there's so much pressure, and I hate that my dad feels the same way about his job, constantly struggling to prove himself to his superiors and support the family. I hate that my parents don't communicate well with each other, I hate that they don't understand why the other one is legitimately upset. I hate that they're both sick right now and that neither of their health is that good.
I hate that my parents are unhappy so much, or at all, and I hate that they're getting old.
I hate that I don't know what to do about it. I wish I could support the family financially and my mom could quit her job or find a different one. I wish I could take on more of their duties (basic household management issues, maybe) so they wouldn't have to worry about that on top of their jobs. I wish I could do more, that I was better, more efficient, more knowledgeable, more capable. I wish I could take care of them.
Sometimes I really feel my age. Most of the time, I feel older than I am. I'm always surprised when I remember, hey, I'm not even twenty-one yet. I'm only twenty? I feel twenty-three at least. But maybe it's good that I'm not, because I hope to be far more capable and accomplished by twenty-three.
Someone I really respect said, about his parents, "我会努力让你们过的幸福开心,你们的幸福是我在心里最大的安慰,希望老爸,老妈身体健康,儿子永远我爱你们." (I'll work hard so you can live happily; your happiness is my heart's greatest comfort. I hope Mom and Dad will stay healthy; your son will always love you.)
I want to want that. I want to stop feeling so selfish about my own wants. This trip to China and Korea--I want it so badly, but it's causing my parents an untold amount of stress and worry. And I'm so sorry. But I want to go, and I want them to trust me to go; but more than that, I want them to be happy for me. I want them to stop being so anxious. (But they're parents, worrying is what they do.)
They've done so much for me. I wish I could do something in return.
Friday, April 25, 2008
我需要的人
I play mom and older sister and sempai to a whole host of people in real life and in fandom. I like it. I love these people and I love helping them and supporting them and giving (hopefully good) advice in any way I can--but sometimes I wish I had a 姐姐 or a 哥哥 to lean on. I suppose I know a fair number of people older than me through fandom, but we aren't close enough for me to rely on them. And, in real life, I don't have many people/friends who are older than me. Maybe it's my faulty psyche--I want to lean on someone and for them to give me advice, but I'm not capable of being that kind of dependent person. I have enough trouble telling people when I'm seriously upset... It's a paradox: I want to have someone to support and guide me, and yet I feel incapable of burdening people with my woes and seeking advice.
I know I'm strong. I strive to be. But sometimes all I want to cry and lean on someone else. I just don't know if I'm capable of taking your hand if you offer it.
I know I'm strong. I strive to be. But sometimes all I want to cry and lean on someone else. I just don't know if I'm capable of taking your hand if you offer it.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
for all time, you are my everything
You're the breath of life in me
the only one that sets me free
Spring Break ends today and it's back to classes and routine (nose to grindstone) again tomorrow. I know I'll be able to readjust fairly quickly, but right now it's so hard to want to face everything again, when the past week has been so full of lovely things like sleep, Chinese food, writing, random drinks with A, time. Life goes on, though, and we move with it. I'm just in a vaguely nostalgic, vaguely pensive mood, one that borders on unhappiness (except I wouldn't go that far). It, too, shall pass.
I'm listening to this song on repeat. It's a pretty good rip of a fancam from a concert featuring D (a Korean star) singing 98 Degrees' My Everything. His English is coherent, clear, understandable, and the entire performance moved me to tears when I first watched it. This song is a tribute to his late father, apparently with images playing in a slideshow behind him as he sang. The very concept is touching, but to hear him sing it is just so much more-- It kind of breaks my heart.
the only one that sets me free
Spring Break ends today and it's back to classes and routine (nose to grindstone) again tomorrow. I know I'll be able to readjust fairly quickly, but right now it's so hard to want to face everything again, when the past week has been so full of lovely things like sleep, Chinese food, writing, random drinks with A, time. Life goes on, though, and we move with it. I'm just in a vaguely nostalgic, vaguely pensive mood, one that borders on unhappiness (except I wouldn't go that far). It, too, shall pass.
I'm listening to this song on repeat. It's a pretty good rip of a fancam from a concert featuring D (a Korean star) singing 98 Degrees' My Everything. His English is coherent, clear, understandable, and the entire performance moved me to tears when I first watched it. This song is a tribute to his late father, apparently with images playing in a slideshow behind him as he sang. The very concept is touching, but to hear him sing it is just so much more-- It kind of breaks my heart.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
the different definitions of filial care
I have two songs about mothers: one titled "妈妈 (Mama)" by Vanness Wu and the other "听妈妈的话 (Listen to Mama's Words)" by Jay Chou. In the first song, Vanness thanks his mother for working so hard, for having done so much for him, for the family, because raising him was not an easy task. It's about how he's grown up now, how he's finally realized how much work his mother has done, and he's telling her that it's okay, she can rest now, because he will take care of the family. The second song is Jay's advice to little children, telling them that they should listen to their moms because they'll understand later on, when they're grown up: they'll know why they run faster and fly higher than the other kids. Looking back, they'll cherish everything about their mother. He tells the little kids to listen to their mom and grow up fast so they can protect her.
Both of these songs have made me tear up. There's nothing more I've wanted since college to be able to take care of my parents. What they say about growing up and realizing how much your parents have done for you--it's true. It makes me grateful and regretful at the same time, because I feel like I could have, should have done so much better. I'd love to relive middle school or even high school, redo those years knowing what I know now. (But isn't hindsight always 20/20?)
I realized, while fixating on my own determination not to disappoint my parents, the different ideas of "care". V takes care of her family by being with them, by sharing their emotional pain, by physically taking care of them by cooking or helping with their workload or just with her presence alone. P is the same way. She takes care of her parents by shouldering more of their burden so they have a lighter load. She is on call for them, any time, because she prioritizes them above everything. It's incredibly touching to see.
When I encounter cases like that, I wonder if I shouldn't be more like them. I want to be there for my family, whether physically or emotionally. I want to be able to take care of them like that; it's an especially important duty as I grow older, and so do my parents. (I hate the reminders that they're human and that they age. It really terrifies me sometimes. But that's for another time.) But, in practice, my family doesn't work that way. Our system of care is an altered form of protection: I don't want you to worry about me, because it will add to your stress, so I will carry my own burdens and fix my own problems.
I don't tell my parents about the details of my life, like some of my friends do. I know most people aren't sharing every detail--"I went out partying last night, Mom, and got hit on by a creepy forty-year-old!"--with their parents, but mine know even less. They probably don't know what classes I'm taking next semester. I don't tell them when I stress out about my grades, about law school applications, about work or the sorority. Why? Because I don't want to worry them. They have enough going on as it is. The same is true in return. I don't know the day-to-day happenings of my family. I don't know when they're worried about the little things, like one of my brother's classes, or the big things, like family problems in China. Sometimes it hurts to find out after the fact, because I wanted to be there for them when they needed me--but they don't tell me these things to protect me; there's no need for me to worry about it when I can't do anything, when I should be focusing on my academics, they say.
The reason this system works is because of trust. My parents trust me to be responsible for my own life now: they trust me to choose my own classes, that they won't be frivolous but will fulfill major requirements; they trust me to take care of myself, to eat and sleep and wear a coat as needed; they trust me to do my best. It makes me want even more to never disappoint them, because this trust was not easily won--nor, I sometimes feel, entirely deserved. But I try, and I hope that one day, they will have every reason to boast to all their friends about me, because I graduated early, because I entered a prestigious law school, because I secured a well-paying job and was successful and happy and capable of taking care of them. I want to give them bragging rights to make up for a high school career that was not shoddy by any means (I'm not entirely out of touch with reality; a 1510 + 800 SAT score is at least one thing they can talk about, even if it really ends up having little relevance on the rest of my life), but was not nearly as spectacular as it could have (should have) been.
I take care of my parents by making sure they never have to worry about me, and making sure they can be proud of me, and making sure I can take care of them financially in the future.
Sometimes, though, I still want to take care of them physically and emotionally too. Let me be there.
Both of these songs have made me tear up. There's nothing more I've wanted since college to be able to take care of my parents. What they say about growing up and realizing how much your parents have done for you--it's true. It makes me grateful and regretful at the same time, because I feel like I could have, should have done so much better. I'd love to relive middle school or even high school, redo those years knowing what I know now. (But isn't hindsight always 20/20?)
I realized, while fixating on my own determination not to disappoint my parents, the different ideas of "care". V takes care of her family by being with them, by sharing their emotional pain, by physically taking care of them by cooking or helping with their workload or just with her presence alone. P is the same way. She takes care of her parents by shouldering more of their burden so they have a lighter load. She is on call for them, any time, because she prioritizes them above everything. It's incredibly touching to see.
When I encounter cases like that, I wonder if I shouldn't be more like them. I want to be there for my family, whether physically or emotionally. I want to be able to take care of them like that; it's an especially important duty as I grow older, and so do my parents. (I hate the reminders that they're human and that they age. It really terrifies me sometimes. But that's for another time.) But, in practice, my family doesn't work that way. Our system of care is an altered form of protection: I don't want you to worry about me, because it will add to your stress, so I will carry my own burdens and fix my own problems.
I don't tell my parents about the details of my life, like some of my friends do. I know most people aren't sharing every detail--"I went out partying last night, Mom, and got hit on by a creepy forty-year-old!"--with their parents, but mine know even less. They probably don't know what classes I'm taking next semester. I don't tell them when I stress out about my grades, about law school applications, about work or the sorority. Why? Because I don't want to worry them. They have enough going on as it is. The same is true in return. I don't know the day-to-day happenings of my family. I don't know when they're worried about the little things, like one of my brother's classes, or the big things, like family problems in China. Sometimes it hurts to find out after the fact, because I wanted to be there for them when they needed me--but they don't tell me these things to protect me; there's no need for me to worry about it when I can't do anything, when I should be focusing on my academics, they say.
The reason this system works is because of trust. My parents trust me to be responsible for my own life now: they trust me to choose my own classes, that they won't be frivolous but will fulfill major requirements; they trust me to take care of myself, to eat and sleep and wear a coat as needed; they trust me to do my best. It makes me want even more to never disappoint them, because this trust was not easily won--nor, I sometimes feel, entirely deserved. But I try, and I hope that one day, they will have every reason to boast to all their friends about me, because I graduated early, because I entered a prestigious law school, because I secured a well-paying job and was successful and happy and capable of taking care of them. I want to give them bragging rights to make up for a high school career that was not shoddy by any means (I'm not entirely out of touch with reality; a 1510 + 800 SAT score is at least one thing they can talk about, even if it really ends up having little relevance on the rest of my life), but was not nearly as spectacular as it could have (should have) been.
I take care of my parents by making sure they never have to worry about me, and making sure they can be proud of me, and making sure I can take care of them financially in the future.
Sometimes, though, I still want to take care of them physically and emotionally too. Let me be there.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)