Having just moved here in Florida has been very stressful, especially for the BF. I could have handled things and responded differently, but instead, I start a fire. I continue to add more wood & fuel to the fire not knowing that the flames were about to explode.

Times like these I think about my Mother. She would know what to say for me to feel better. She would know what I should do to make things better. I don’t know if I ever written about her here, but unfortunately, my Mother passed away when I was young.

[MY MEMORIES]

Five years old. Such a young age when I think of it now. Almost twenty years ago for me. I don’t remember much about her. I hate that. All I can really rely on are pictures and words from other family members. I wish I could hear her voice. I wish I could see the lashes of her eyes. The curves of her lips. The creases of her hands. Wish I could talk to her. Ask her things about her childhood, parents, boyfriends…
I want so badly to remember her…to know her. There are a few memories, but not enough. At just five years old, it’s hard to know anything.

I remember seeing someone sleeping on the living room floor with a blanket over their head. I thought it was a man, an uncle I didn’t know of. For no reason, I placed my foot on their head because they were moving. They took the blanket off their head. That was the last time I remember seeing her lively bald. I knew she was sick, but didn’t know to what extent.
I remember a blue-fitted, cotton cap she wore. I remember looking inside the cap, then putting it on when she had it off thinking, ‘Will I lose my hair too, if I wear this?’
I had no clue.

I remember sitting in the kitchen with her. I had lice at the time. She was picking the bugs out, showing me one on her perfectly oval-shaped, natural nail. She squished it between her two thumb nails and asked if me I heard it? Lice is gross, but that moment was a bonding time for me. I thought she was really cool doing that for me.

I vaguely remember these moments. I do know these were the last pictures we took with each other. It was at Universal Mall, in Warren, MI. I thought those photo booths were so cool. I believe they were one of the first kinds where you could change the curtain behind you. I have another picture like this where the background is white. I’m standing there by myself, big smile with my hands on my hips, with my Mom with the remote control off to the side looking at me, smiling as well.

I used to have tons of teddy bears. There was one that looked like a red panda. It was my favorite one. My Mom went to garage/yard sales a lot. I was always happy to go because I usually got a stuffed animal. :)
Went to a building filled with bunch of people with my mom one day. It’s the brown building next to St. John’s hospital on 11 Mile Rd. and Dequindre, Madison Heights, MI. I remember sitting close to an old blonde woman with her hands on her lap, interlocking. She was twirling her thumbs around each other. I thought it was cool, so I copied her. She noticed. I shied away. My Mom and her giggled. Mom was called up next. Her and a Doctor talked. I was in my old world; it felt like forever. After they were done, the Doctor and Mom gave me a stuff animal. A white bunny. That was the last stuffed animal I received from her.

Mom was in the hospital got a while now, so it was just me, my older brother (four years older) and Dad at home. Dad came home with a box of chicks for us. I look back on it now. He wanted us to be happy. We had no idea. Or at least, I had no idea. They were cute. I think they died a few days after.

[THE DAY SHE WENT TO BED]

My uncle picked me up out of kindergarden. I went to Hoover Elementary in Hazel Park for that time. I didn’t think anything of it when he came. I was sitting in the front seat. Big brother in the back. I couldn’t see anything. After awhile, I see something familar. That brown building. This time we passed that building and went to the bigger white building, St. John’s.

I remember walking and walking. That smell. That hospital smell was awful. It wasn’t a happy smell. Finally get a hallway where there’s a bunch of people standing around. Everyone was crying, leaning against the wall. We turn the corner into the room.
They she was. Laying there. Eyes closed. No wig. Big tube taped in her month with a little blood moving back and forth in it. My dad sitting beside her crying. A white lady told me and my brother to have a seat and left. We sat across from her bed. The same white lady came back with candy and handed them to us. I didn’t care about the candy.

I remember seeing a friend we call uncle talking to my Dad, trying to calm his crying. I didn’t know what he was saying, but I was getting mad. I just wanted him to leave my Dad alone, and let him cry. Dad looked like he needed to. I started to cry as I watched him continue. Why was he so sad? Was Uncle saying mean things?

It was time to leave. I still didn’t know what was going on. Confused. Why is everyone crying?
My Dad straightened up a bit and told me to come to him to say bye. Bye? As I walked towards Dad, I believe I asked him why? Why bye? What is she doing? He said, “She sleeping.”
He picked me up and told me to kiss Mom. I kissed her on the forehead. I don’t remember if he even picked up my brother to do the same.

[FUNERAL]

We were going to a building in Madison Heights. Everyone I knew was there. One by one people were going up to see her. Everyone was wearing dark clothing besides me, my brother and my two other cousins. We were the youngest of our generation. I was the youngest of the young. We were wearing white clothing with white cloth wrappings. We all looked slightly different. Different wrappings. I remember looking at Brother thinking he looked like a mummy.

I started walking towards Mom. At first, I was walking alone, then my Aunt came from behind. We both looked with her. Another adult joined us. Aunt didn’t like how Mom’s hands were so she fixed them to look more peaceful. Her hands were to her sides, so she moved them on top of one the other on her tummy. Both the adults left and I was alone with her for a bit.

That smell. Not hospital smell. A more worse smell. Her face was covered in makeup so I blamed the smell on that. She looked scary. I didn’t cry. I was just blank. I still didn’t get it entirely. I stared at her for a while. Then I decided to touch her, so I placed my index finger to her cheek. Jerked back. Ice cold. Horrible feeling.

It was time to drive her to her burial grounds. I remember sitting in the back seat holding an 8 x 10 framed photo of her on my lap. “I’m Still Loving You,” by Scorpion was playing on the way there. We arrive to the White Chapel Cementary.
Here is where I really don’t remember much. Only thing I remember is having a Buddhist ceremony around my Mom’s coffin. Us four “mummies” had incenses in our hands standing by her coffin. After a little prayer (I just said what my Dad told me to say), we’d put the incense in a cup of dry rice with the other incenses from people who came.

Now, I heard this from my friend’s Mom and my cousin sort of remembers. When it was time to lower her into the ground, I started hitting the men doing so. I didn’t understand. I keep saying that she was sleeping.
She was only sleeping.

[GROWING UP]

I don’t remember anything after the funeral.

It was hard growing up without a Mom. It still is. The pain never goes away. I had to learn to brush my hair. Got made fun of in 2nd grade for that. Learn to dress myself. I had to learn girlie shit from my Aunt, cousins, my Dad’s girlfriend and ex-wife. I was always jealous of my friends and cousins. They had that bond between daughter and mother. Yeah, I had a step-mom, but that bond only went so far. I feel like that mother-daughter bond is so important. Equal to that father-son bond.

Years pass. Dad has an American girlfriend. I have a half-sister 10 years younger than me. (She was really fun, still is. =P) Dad and girlfriend break up. Dad remarries to Vietnamese woman. Six years later, they split. Couple years later, he remarries again.

At first, it was tough, but she was really easy to love. The American girlfriend was really, really new. Not only because she’s the first after my Mom’s death, but because she’s American. She was like a treat. With her around, I was always happy. I believe she was the one who really introduced me to sweets. We had cakes, cupcakes, brownies, homemade donuts, etc. when she was around. =)
Dad and her broke up after a few years, I believe. She was still in my life because of my sister. Good thing she was because I got my first period when I spent a summer at her apartment before the sixth grade. Lol. I remember her and her friend yelling, “You’re a woman!” Sillies.

My Dad’s Second Wife, Vietnamese woman after the American girlfriend, was hard. She kind of came out of nowhere. At the time, I was going through a horrible stage. I don’t wanna/won’t wanna/can’t even say. Let’s just say its the second worst thing that has ever happened to me. Anyways, Second Wife came out of nowhere. I didn’t like her. I was in my early teens, so I wasn’t having it from anyone. Today, her and I are great friends. I go to her sometimes for advice. I learned that she really did love me and my Brother back then. She knew it was hard for us to adjust. I learned more about house-keeping with her. Lol. I had my first sex talk with her. Very awkward. Lol.

Third Wife. Dad and her got married just a few years ago. At this point, I just want him to be happy. Since I’ve been on my own, I don’t really talk to my Dad much, therefore, I don’t talk to my new step-mom. I couldn’t if I wanted to, but I don’t speak Vietnamese fluently. She came from there not too long ago.

Sometimes I feel bad for my Dad. I couldn’t imagine being in his shoes, losing your wife at a young age to cancer and having to raise two kids. I believe he could have taken care of us better, but I guess everything happens for a reason. Still I love him very much, though. Our family went through so much pain.
I learned a lot from him. I’m glad he didn’t treat me like a fragile little girl when I was younger. He would wake me up early in the morning to mow the lawn or help him move bricks for landscaping. Fun stuff. When I look at Dad now, I get a little sad. He’s starting to look old. I can’t even go there right now.
He did let me be surrounded by people who loved me. Really important. I was at my cousin’s house almost every weekend when I was young. And I had more cousins living across the street from me. I was never really alone, alone. When you’re at a low, it’s always important to be surrounded by people you love or have them in reaching distance. I was had someone to go to. Friends, cousins, Aunts…

I am a pretty strong person today. Once in a while I’ll break down and just cry, wishing I had my Mom here to comfort me. Shoot, I wish she was here now. I know she is spiritually. I feel like now is the time I need her even more. I need her to tell me which direction to go. If I’m doing the right thing. Though, most of the time when I’m crying about something, and I think of her (and what she would say), I put myself in check. I say to myself, ‘You’ve been through worst things than this. You can get through this. Keep your head up.’

I wish I knew her. Before I moved down here, I spent some time with my dad. I asked him how she was like. He said, “She was the nicest lady I have ever met.” When I think about that, I think of my Brother. I know for a fact he is like her. =)
Me, I’m more like my Dad.

I love my Brother and Dad so much.
__________

I am loving it here in Florida. Once the BF and I are settled in more, things will be better. I just have to remember to keep my attitude in check and be thankful. To don’t let the stresses of change get to me. I’ve been a little bit of a drama queen since we’ve moved here. This is where I need my Mom to like smack me or something. =)

Things will turn out. I believe it. I know she does too.

Related posts:

1. Bliss. Couple reasons why… 01. I’ve been lazy to do any...

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.