• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 04


She likes tea very much. At times, we all joked that she drank tea for water. Every morning, she is the first to wake up, prepare her cup of tea with skimmed milk, and sit down in the living room reading online articles or scrolling Facebook.

Funny that she used to be very active. She literally could not sit down for more than ten minutes. It is a fact her physical capacity decreased over time. But it seems that the curve went exponentially downwards since her retirement. As if quitting work meant losing motion, too.

Now, all we talk about is either remember-whens or I'm-worried-you-woulds. It is not that I had a bad childhood, but I doubt it was as warm and sunny as she remembers it. Perhaps this shows on my face while we talk about it. Perhaps it hurts her. But honestly, it just feels imposed sometimes. All the sentimental morning messages, digging out for old happy-family photos, the corny generic good-morning greetings with a ton of flowers and colors, or worse – the "my daughter is why I live" messages!

I feel she recently wishes I never grew up. I feel she recently wishes she never grew up. She still tries to cater to my every single need while I am around. It is nice to be pampered from time to time, but all the time? Then it is suffocating, detrimental even. After a decent amount of self-guilting, I realized it is not my responsibility to fill her void. I do love her, but I barely decipher her messages now. We talk in different languages, and she needs to know I have a life of my own, not a mere extension to hers.

So, there is no point in worrying about what has happened or what would happen, is there?

I <3 u 2