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It's Mother's Day. I called my mom. She is quite the elusive woman. I called her three times before I managed to get in touch with her. She was out with my sisters for brunch and later headed off to work. Yep, my mom works on Mother's Day. So I ended up calling her after work. Normally, we get on the phone and talk about nothing really and end up talking more at each rather than to each other. Not to say that we argue or even have disagreements, but we seem to have little in common anymore.
It was a few years after I took my current job in Seattle; I remember having a conversation with my mom on the phone. We talked about what has gone on over the last few years. She talked about how proud she was that I was so successful. She mentioned the hard work and good grades at school, the good job, etc. Nowhere did she mention my happiness, which struck me as strange.
Microsoft Bookshelf 98 defines success as the achievement of something desired, planned, or attempted. So ideally, shouldn't happiness be a factor in success? I asked her about it; she answers that she never really thought about it that way. She paints a picture of a perfect life, but nowhere does she mention happiness. I found that a little disturbing.
I have now been at my current job since July 1991. A few years after I started, one of my friends, one who I consider to be my mentor, asked me if I would consider quitting my job and working for him instead. It was the only other job offer I ever seriously considered. It was a great compliment and a great opportunity. However, it involved moving from an established, well-known company to a smaller, lesser-known company.
Although I didn't agree with it, I understood that in the eyes of the Chinese community, it would be moving from a job with more prestige to a lesser one… entirely because of name recognition. I remembered asking my mom about it… Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I was hoping she would say, “it doesn't matter what they say, I'll still be proud of you.” Instead, I still remember the words she uttered, “we don't have to tell them anything…” The words struck me like a slap in the face. As it turns out, I didn't take the job… not so much because of this episode with my mom, but other reasons.
When I enrolled in college, there was another Chinese high school graduate from my neighborhood. His name is Steve. I have never personally met Steve. All I knew was one thing, we entered the University of Miami at the same time. He was pre-med; I was engineering. We were in competition. He dropped out after about a year. I graduated in five years with two majors. To this day, I still haven't met him. I hated the competition. I knew it was there. I'm sure that Steve heard about me as well. I felt like a chess piece in a board that was the South Florida Chinese community.
Years later, my mom was mentioning something about Steve… something about his having gotten married with a foreigner (non-Chinese person) [I kid you not!] and alienating his father. To this day, I still remember having this conversation with my mom. I told her that I hated being part of the game and detested when I was the center of attention. I remember explaining to her that it would only be a matter of time before I fall from grace… that it was the gossiping that kept me a part of the community and from now on, I would no longer be a part of it. I didn't like it when people gossiped about me, and thus I would not participate in talking about them. I think it was a significant step between establishing a new relationship between my mother and I. Unfortunately, it also meant that initially we would have little to talk about.
Recently, I have been talking to dear friend of mine. I've listened to her talk about her mom and the truly special relationship they have. I was thinking that I envied her and then I realized that there's no real reason I can't develop a closer relationship with my mom. [Well… Duh!!] I have also listened to her talk about her wanting to learn more about her Chinese heritage. It has put things under a different light. I don't think that it will make be want to be an active member of the community again. Although for the first time, I can start to look at it with a more neutral eye… maybe someday. It has been a long time since anyone has made me evaluate such a big part of my life. [Thanks, Lisa!]
I speak Chinese better than my mom speaks English (or Spanish for that matter), so when we talk, I speak in Chinese. It recently occurred to me that maybe that's part of the reason why I seem to have such a tough time with her. It's no big secret that I believe parts of the Chinese community are dysfunctional. It's just that while talking in Chinese, I can't help but to remember too many things that, well… I don't hold quite as fondly. So it's time for me to mature a little and begin to separate them. For years, I thought the words coming from her mouth were simply reiterations of the Chinese community and never really gave her the benefit of the doubt.
Tonight was finally the start of developing an adult relationship with my mom. I know that listening to my friend, Lisa, has led me to re-evaluate my relationship with my mom. I'm sure that finding some closure with my dad was also part of it. I've also seen my sister Aileen work out many of her differences with our mom. For whatever reason, I welcome this change and hope to finally be able to learn from her, my mom. Listening to her over the phone, I can finally listen to this woman's voice and her wisdom. It's no longer the voice of my mother. It's no longer a Chinese voice. It's not the voice of the ghosts of the community. It is the voice of a newfound friend… hopefully a lasting one. There's a lot of love here, but little understanding.
Tonight, as I'm talking to her, it occurred to me that I haven't heard my mom utter my Chinese name for years. I realized that I missed hearing it. She has referred to me as Son or as Frankie. When I asked her why that was, she first answered, “because you didn't like to be called by your Chinese name.” She quickly amended that and added that she doesn't refer to any of us with our names, which is true. She was half-right about my not liking it, but that was some time ago, when I was in high school.
Occasionally, friends ask me how to pronounce my Chinese name; it has been so long since I heard it that it is starting to sound like a foreign or antiquated term… Yep. My name sounds foreign. That's pretty strange isn't it?
I know the woman is neither a saint nor a leper. She's human and makes mistakes like anyone else. It's refreshing to see her in a new light. As I'm talking to her, I've come to realize that she understands more than I ever gave her credit for. I don't know why she never really reached out to me. I suppose it takes two to make it work. Maybe she was waiting for me to snap out of it. As we continue talking, she asks, “How is life, son? Are you happy?”. A smile silently appears upon my lips, and I'm thinking to myself… Can you beat that?
Thanks, Mom… Happy Mother's Day!
May 10, 1998