i’ve never been open to my parents. i have very vague memories of happier times when we all lived in milpitas together. my dad was working and thriving, my mom took care of us and sewed us clothes, we were young enough to still be and feel oblivious to my parents’ marital problems – or they were still happier then, still in the phase of trying to work out their issues before everything fell apart. i don’t remember telling my mom things back then, but i remember having happy times with her other than when it came to disciplining us about school work. i learned how to ride my bike in the backyard at that house.
then we moved to sunnyvale where things started to go downhill. i’m not sure for what reason although i largely suspect it was financial. the reason i think this is that we used to own the milpitas home and we moved to a rental in sunnyvale. so that’s where things started to slowly unravel.
i feel like my parents have a lot to hide, not that i don’t. but the foundation that we grew up on was one where adults treated children like innocent little bunnies that needed to be protected from everything in order to control and mold us. in particular when it came to themselves and their weaknesses and even their love. vietnamese guilt and saving face culture do not play well into all this.
although putting all this aside, other than from photographs where my dad is holding me and looks happy and looks like he loves me when i was a toddler, i don’t actually remember a time that i was my dad’s daughter and i felt close to him. i get moments here and there when i say bye to him after a visit of which we largely don’t speak and are not even in the same room. he cares, but at some point started disconnecting from us. at first i thought it was due to vietnamese culture, where male and females roles are very defined. but i see vietnamese dads with their kids and this isn’t the case. there are many vietnamese fathers who adore their daughters and have close, loving relationships with them.
then i thought, it’s me. i’m not that proper vietnamese, christian daughter he wants – he can’t relate to me because he is consumed with religion and i am indifferent to it. but i think what’s wrong with my dad’s approach to christianity is that he is too concerned about how you should live it that he misses the point of it. he misses the point that jesus loved people, he tells you to love others as yourself, but my dad’s pursuit of religion actually makes him resent us and perhaps even my mom. it makes him distance himself indirectly. but then it turns me off from that religion because to me, it doesn’t seem to work – especially in the case of my dad. someone who spent all his life studying and believing in it, but he actually doesn’t understand the action of how to love someone. he just knows he should in his heart, hiding behind the veil of a concept that isn’t executed.
but today, i am starting to realize, it’s not me – it’s him. and that’s scary, because there are things i can do to change the environment, there are things i can do to change me even, but there is nothing i can do to change him.
i’m running out of time and this covid thing has not helped. i’m particularly worried about my mom. my dad at least has some sort of motivation in his life – god. he also has the ability to abuse alcohol. my mom has him and us and no substance to abuse. he’s not around mentally and we’re not around physically. with my mom, i’m barely there mentally. i know there was a time when it was just me and her and it must have been the most wonderful of times – a strong young mother with her toddler. trying to make it in america with each other. she always tells the story about how when she was walking home from the bus with me and dropped all her money, $100 that was supposed to be all our food money. she ended up eating instant noodles that month. maybe that’s why i like them so much. i think it’s a wonderful story, i really wished i remembered those times with my mom. i truly admire my mom for what she’s gone through.
but instead what i practically remember is an angry, middle-aged woman. sad and bitter, scared of everything. illogical. taking things out on her kids because she didn’t know how else to cope. never expressing feelings to us or helping us understand why she was like that. she probably also just didn’t know. but is it okay to expect more from your mom? or is she just somebody’s daughter? i don’t want to feel mad at her anymore. i want to be able to casually and hysterically laugh in front of her. i want to be able to tell her when i’m sad. so i guess unlike my dad though, part of the problem with my mom IS me. which is something i can try to fix. maybe she’ll meet me half way if we can help her get there because i still think the problem is largely her. maybe not. will digest the rest of this later. all i know is i don’t want to remember my mom as a sad and lonely old lady who could not get past her past.