Mother, if I have to write about you I would have to take a week break from everything, especially the internet because I am just so addicted to pushpullbar now; I scanned and scanned and read through the forums the whole day. There are 83 threads in the general chit-chat section alone and I’m still on the 17th, the 3rd post, to be precise.
I wish you’d advised me to take up architecture. I would have enjoyed these online forums better, more than I do now. Instead, you advised me to take up Biology because, you said, had you the money you’d have been one of the best doctors ever. It’s very apparent by the way you used prescribe us the medicines in absence of a legit doctor’s prescription. I thought it was just pure genius; I didn’t know we were just lucky enough not to have died from self-medication.
Mother, I know we do not have the best of relationship. I proved that when I realized how expensive Zoloft was, being a jobless 23 year-old graduate of one of the premier universities in the country living with you, a menopausing workaholic middle-aged mother of 5.
I also know you were a frustrated wife, having to content yourself with an andropausing, Star Craft-playing middle-aged husband who you said, “has taken you for granted all these years.” But no matter how I repeatedly tell you give yourself a break and stop living your life for him, you end up coming home to your husband for some self-declared emergency, few days short from your supposed solo vacation cum bonding time with your granddaughter. You are the reason why I never believe in marriage. Forgive me for not really enjoying the supposed wedding you arranged for me and Keith. Weddings are such huge embarrassment to me.
Despite all of these, you were always easy to forgive, hopeful for that 3rd chance, the 4th and the 5th. You know I am not in favor of that mother. I resent it, I really do. Please understand that for a stubborn daughter starting a family of her own, it is frustrating to say these things over and over again, “The first mistake is forgivable. Letting the second one pass is sheer stupidity.” Mother, there is no hope in the 3rd chance but I know you’re beyond redemption. I’ll consider this a glitch in your normal brain function but please do not come to my house in a total mess again. I also have a very busy personal life to attend to.
I’m sorry, but when Daddy said you look like a refugee, I totally agree with him. I know “pack light” may sound alien to you but I can teach you how. It’s pretty easy if you really try and give your utmost dedication. It’s just a simple switch of perspectives. I understand that you look at things this way: How many bags are needed for all these things I’ll be carrying? I strongly suggest, and that you remember all the time to look the other way around: How the hell would these things fit in just one compact bag? It’s fairly easy, and before you knew it you’ll be getting rid of the 10 smaller bags inside the 5 other bags, and learn to prioritize. No mother, 5 bags do not qualify as emergency bags because the human hand can optimally carry only two, without the fear of ball and socket dislocation.
And stop worrying. Stop worrying about us. We can survive. We will survive the way you survived at 20, without a mother and with 6 younger siblings to attend to. When you worry too much, you also make us work beyond our imagination and we end up with bruised egos and strained relationships. I hope you understand our situation. As much as we would like to help you with your money making, get-rich-endeavors-so –you-kids-can-have-stable-future, we also have personal commitments that need to be fulfilled, now that we have the stability and liberty to do so. Just imagine you having money, wanting to be a doctor, and your mother telling you to stay home and pack muscovado, deliver it to supermarkets and be confronted with screaming purchasing officers who have rougher skin and uglier hair, but thanks to make up and hair serum those issues can be hidden from public view. It’s a little graphic but I hope you understand.
Fifty is the new Forty, they say. We would really like it if you try to enjoy and get a spanking new life.
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