TIMESTAMPED FROM September 23, 2008 specifically for Mother's Day
Through a ton of AIM and Email requests, I am supposedly to write a bit more about my life, and provide more of these short stories that Iwrite.
So this one time... I became a grown up...
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If my memory should prove me right, I can remember a time in which I was taught the 'practice of forgiveness'. Those who have known me for a long time would know that it was a difficult task. I have always had this problem with attachment. Seeking and providing help for those around me, and yet never really letting go. I always let my stubborn temper get the best of me. And yet even with the training, traveling, and schooling, I had neverreally grasp the moral of forgiveness.
In the Buddhist schools, their strife was in the practice of humility,compassion, faith, and love for all humanity. With a code of conduct and honor specifically motioned around the self improvement and enlightenment of one-self. It sounds very easy to listen to, to read, to speak, and yet sohard to follow.
So after returning from London in late 2002, I prepared for my transition into a prestigious college (I was accepted before my junior year if high school even started). I then made my move to the bay area, at this current time it was only 99 miles away from my mother, which was a bit better considering we had a huge strain in our relationship (for most of my life). At this time, I had been working 4 hours every other day at Kay bee Toys as a sales associate in Sacramento, 5 hours every other day at FedEx (Sacramento) as a zip code scanner in the swing shift (Sacramento), part-time at a local cafe in Greenhaven (Sacramento), and continuing to help my dad with his business, as well as a daily commute back tothe bay for school. Spending 6 hours there all day, with 2 hours of study,and a hopeful 2 hours of sleep, I was starting to think this was the American dream that my parents had so hoped for when they immigrated here. And here I was losing faith and figuring out what honor really was.
I started to think about the things that I had enjoyed books, computers, games,and dance. And at that moment, I barely had a thought of 'me' in between school, and customer care at Kay Bee Toys. As any typical young teenager,I started to question if a major in Psychology and minor in History was abetter decision considering that I was more proficient in English and computer science. But I always had my mother nearby, her commanding voice in my head telling me, you are better off as a doctor than some programmer "It just looks better.." she would say. It was very degrading, to know that after what my mother and I had gonethrough, she still needed to control every aspect of my life. That had caused a more serious strain, I soon stopped communicating with her, and that put my dad in a problematic situation.
One fateful day, a year later, I was reviewing some of my dad's company expenses on our family farm; he questioned me about my feelings towards mymother. We broke into an argument, and I ended up saying things about my mother I had soon regretted. I can remember standing outside the barn; I remember being extremely angry. A train was passing by, it made the earth move, blowing dust gravel and pollen into the air, it made me feel as if I was being tied down on the tracks, I felt a need to just escape. My dad came from inside the barn, he had put his hand onmy shoulder and said these words to me,
"She doesn't need you to forgive her, or pity her, or anything, she’s your mother, she has a given right to be what that way, and so do you--but she’s sick now, her diabetes took a turn for the worst, they say she has something ofglaucoma and thyroid cancer. They are operating on her next week. Recovery will take about a year, and your sisters have priorities now, they have kids and jobs as well."
My heart that was filled with anger turned to grief. And I turned to my dad, and he continued, "You should come back home and take care of her, it’s only a year and maybe they would let you back."
And with that, I turned and ran from my dad, I had felt betrayed, he was the one person that allowed me to be who I wanted to be, and instead he was now telling me what I had to do. I drove off that barn so fast and hard that it kicked up a cloud of dirt and dust in the air, and even when I looked back in my rear view mirror, I could no longer see my dad, but I knew he was watching me run away from this problem (that of which was something I had always done), I headed towards my oldest sisters house. I entered into the house, she came out of the kitchen, and before I even put my bag down she was already explaining, justifying how my two older sisters, can't even take care of our own mother.
"If you didn’t have that crazy sister of yours in SD, and another sister with a baby, maybe we all would have some time to take care of your mother." I remember her saying that, speaking of our mother as just my own. I hadn't even felt that way about her.
"Don't you have any honor?!!" she yelled at one point.
I had been silent this whole time, but couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and asked, "Don't you?"
For the following week, I was out of place, I felt so disconnected from everything. And if looking into the past had served any good for anything, it doesn't. I started to question why I even cared about any of this considering what my mother had put me through I had damned my sisters for being incapable of being there for her considering my mother had always supported them. And then I remembered all that I had learned in Buddhist schools, from Tibet, to India, Military school in Arizona, and even Catholic school in London. All those places I had been and where I had learned the ways to be a good person. It made me feel even worse sitting there and damning everyone. So far in my life, it had been comprised of decision after decision, lesson after lesson, and battle over all battles, I started questioned the true dignity of self-improvement. I must have walked the campus for several times that week, because I was stopped by campus security, they questioned if I was mentally sane. Soon, after that I had came to realization that I had spent so much focus on being such a kept together and grounded person, I kept battling ways to always be true and good,that I had taken fore granted the sincerity of the life and love of someone other than my own.
On Monday, I went to UC Davis Medical Center; my dad was seated outside my mother’s hospital bedroom, his head was in his hands. As I neared him, he had a look of relief in his eyes, as if he had always known I’d find my way back home.
I entered the hospital room; I had expected my mother to have an angry reaction, with questions of my presence there. She didn’t, she was silent and looked away, and the nurse came in and told me I had five minutes until the anesthesiologist would return to prepare my mom for surgery. After she had left, we sat in awkward silence. My mother is a strong person, temperamental, and always correct. I felt uneasy to see her lying in that bed,with no emotion, it was as if the life had already been taken out of her.
“So you are going to throw away a good thing you had going for yourself and this family?” she questioned.
I had felt myself started to be angered by her insolent question. With an exasperated sigh, Iresponded to her question.
“It was always an honor to be your daughter, an honor to be apart of this family, and will continue to be, even if this year passes and I am still here, doing this, I’d at least be with you, mom.”
She was quiet and turned away from me. And for once we both silently admitted to thefact that we had never treated each other appropriately. I reached for her hand and held it. A group of doctors entered the room, and my mom was given her anesthetic shot, and before I would allow her to slip from me. I tightened my hold on her hand, and she didn’t let go either, she turned to me, and I said, “It doesn’t matter anymore mom, I forgive you now, and that my honor.” She smiled, and closed her eyes.
I eventually had dropped out of Berkeley to continue to take care of my mom. To this day, we have one of the best relationships that many would have never thought would happen. I am proud to say that since that day, I can honestly say, I grew up.
A Buddhist is taught to enlighten themselves in one way or another, and to bring forth that greatness onto others.
That...and I love...my Mom...No matter what...
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