Category Archives: Family dysfunction

SF planning

Posted on by
Reply

I spoke with my dad today on the phone and let him know that I want us to go to Mount Tamalpais and the Point Reyes lighthouse in Marin County when we’re back in a couple weeks. He sounded excited about the lighthouse, since he’s been mentioning visiting it for years and just hasn’t gone (that is normal for him), but then he didn’t seem too enthused when I told him we were going hiking. My dad doesn’t like to walk even three blocks to buy groceries.

“Well, your mom probably can’t walk too much,” he said to me. “So I’m not sure hiking is a good idea.”

“It’s going to be less than a mile at a time,” I responded. “She’ll be fine.”

My mom is fine walking, say, twenty-one blocks to her Jehovah’s Witness Kingdom Hall for her service meetings, but she’s seemingly not okay walking even half a mile if it’s on a dirt path?

The last time my parents explored this area was before my brother and I were even born, in the 1970s. That was a time when most of these roads were in pretty terrible condition, and way before they repaved everything to make the area more tourist friendly (and frankly, driver-safe — we’re in a cliff zone here). It kind of makes me sad to hear that, though. Living in the Bay Area, while extremely (and increasingly) expensive) has so many benefits, one of which is being so close to nature, gorgeous coastal views, and all the benefits of the outdoors. We should be taking advantage of all these benefits to make the most of our time in these places. But I guess not everyone agrees with that perspective.

Research study

Posted on by
Reply

Tonight, my friend, who works at an “innovation firm” (I’m pretty sure that’s just a BS-y way of saying consulting firm), reached out to ask if I might know anyone who is a recent empty nester, and if he/she’d be willing to participate in a one-hour interview for a study he has just been assigned to work on. I thought about everyone older I know who might fit this category, and I remembered that Chris’s dad’s cousin has children who have just left home who might actually fit the bill. I reached out to Chris’s dad to ask, and they immediately responded and said they’d participate (and they’d be rewarded $100 for their one-hour contribution to this study, so if I were them, I’d take my friend up on the offer, too!). My friend asked what they were like, and I told him they actually came to our wedding and were some of the kindest people in the world. But then as I was typing this out over text, I realized I say that about almost everyone in Chris’s family. The only people I really don’t say this about… are my own family. My own family, extended and immediate, are not the kindest people in the world, and if they are acting like they are, it is exactly what I said it is — an act, unless it’s my sweet aunt. Everyone else is doing it for a show or because they are expecting something.

I just think it is so exhausting to expect something all the time and put on a show when I don’t really mean it. It’s no wonder that nowadays, I am very rarely called the “nicest person ever” the way I once was in middle school, or the way certain women at my office are called. It’s just too tiring. It’s too tiring to not be myself and to be nice all the damn time.

But then if I got really cynical about this, are Chris’s dad’s cousins genuinely the kindest people in the world, or are they just… acting like that? I have a feeling it’s not the latter.

68th

Posted on by
Reply

Today is my dad’s 68th birthday. Every year since my brother passed away, it’s hard for me to think about my dad’s birthday without thinking about my brother’s death and the fact that he’s not here. When I spoke with my primary care doctor two months ago about my dad’s heart surgery, she told me that because of the double bypass, he pretty much has a brand new heart with new vessels and should be good for at least another decade or even three if he takes good care of himself. If I were a parent, how would I feel knowing that I would outlive my son by over three decades?

I always wonder what my dad really thinks about his son’s death, if he ever looks back and wonders if he could have said something more, criticized less, spent more time with him and nurtured him. I wonder if he ever has regrets that he just refuses to share with us, or even worse, refuses to reveal to himself. It’s difficult to navigate the mind of someone who is so emotionally removed and stoic almost all the time. It will always be one of those eternal mysteries that lingers in the back of my own mind.

Morning chat

Posted on by
Reply

Chris has been waking up at unGodly hours the last week or so. This morning, he decided to wake up early and include a morning chat (or late evening chat in Melbourne) with his parents. I joined the conversation when Chris put the phone on speaker at some point. We discussed our apartment search and how it resulted in us staying here, my desire for potted plants, recent work related events, and my rasgulla making project. It was jovial and fun, with the much-anticipated “Tried any good reds?” question from Chris’s dad.

“Why can’t you tell (insert annoying name that Chris calls my mom) about how the rasgulla turned out?” he said jokingly. He loves to do this.

“Because she isn’t going to care!” I shot back.

My parents don’t really care about these things unless they know what the food is. And they definitely should not be told that we were looking for a new and more expensive apartment because my parents have no real knowledge when it comes to renting property; they’ve never rented in their lives and just think everything is too expensive. These are the realities of conversations with my in-laws vs. own parents.

Planning to go home

Posted on by
Reply

I booked my flight to go home for about a week and a half from the end of August through the first week of September. It’s always one of those bittersweet tasks for me. I love so many things about San Francisco, and while I do love my family, each member of that family drives me up the wall so that I know I can never sanely be home for that long. I told my mom I booked my flight. These are some excerpts of how she responded:

“I’m not trying to be nosy, but can I ask (that’s code for: I’m about to berate you and yes, I am nosy): Why are you staying for such a short time? You should be coming for at least a month. You should do things that make your mummy happy.”

“Just tell your uncle that you are coming home. You told who? Don’t tell anyone else. Did you hear me? Don’t tell anyone else.” (that’s code for: don’t tell your aunt who lives upstairs because I’m mad at her for some nonsense I made up because I enjoy being mad at someone at all times).

“Are you going to be working while you are here? You should take some time off and spend it with me. Always working. You never spend enough time at home. You need to think about me more.” Right.

It could have been worse. This was very mild in the overall scheme of things.

 

No response ever

Posted on by
Reply

My aunt has e-mailed me a couple of times while we’ve been in Korea mainly to ask me how we’re doing, let us know that she went down to LA for her daughter-in-law’s father’s funeral, and to let me know that she will be cancelling her planned Hong Kong/China trip in August in favor of time spent in Southern California and Oregon for her JW conventions. She sent me some photos from when she was down in LA, and it reminded me of the times she’s been a bit exacerbated by my dad. “I always e-mail your dad when I am away and send him photos, but he never responds,” she said to me with an annoyed look on her face. “Your mom tells me to e-mail and send pictures, but never even one response I get back! How am I supposed to know if he receives them?”

I responded the only way I knew how to: “He gets them; he just doesn’t want to respond. He has nothing to say back.”

The reason I thought about this was that while I am abroad, my mom asks me to e-mail my dad once a day so they know I am safe. I actually do this most of the time, but like my aunt, I never tend to receive a response. It’s always a one-way communication street with my dad. I even mentioned the San Tung noodles to my dad yesterday, and still that even elicited no response.

“Communists”

Posted on by
Reply

I told my mom about a month ago that we planned a trip to South Korea for about nine days, and she didn’t seem very enthused by the idea. She’s never really known anything about Korean culture, nor has she been that interested in it. She thinks Korean food is too spicy and unhealthy (the unhealthy part… huh?), but she does enjoy kimchi, bibimbap, and japchae. She knows I like Korean food, though, so she wasn’t that surprised that we were going.

“Well, have fun,” she said reluctantly. “Don’t forget to e-mail your dad so that we know you’re okay over there. You have to be careful because a lot of Koreans are communists, so if you do something wrong in their country, they may kill you.”

“North Korea is a communist country,” I corrected her. “We’re going to South Korea. We can’t even go to North Korea even if we wanted to.”

“You just don’t know,” she said condescendingly (and erroneously). I could tell she was shaking her head on the other end of the line. “Many Koreans are communists. I’m warning you. I just know. Trust me. They’re just as bad as the Vietnamese.”

It’s always comical when your mom insists she knows more about the entire world than you do even though she can’t even identify any major country on a map if you gave it to her.

“Equal”

Posted on by
Reply

My mom keeps insisting that I should come home this December. She wants me to spend the whole month at home, “or at least two weeks like you used to,” she said today. She said it would be just like going to Australia and working remotely, except it would be even easier in San Francisco since I have an office I could work out of there.

“Just like going to Australia?” I don’t think so.

“You’ve already gone there for the last four years,” she continued. I could tell she was trying to control her voice and not yell at me. “It’s just not fair. You haven’t come home in December for four years now. Chris can still go there. You can just come here. You have to make it equal between us.”

Well, it seems like I leave and go to Australia for four weeks, but I really only spend about two weeks with Chris’s family. For five days to a week, we’ll usually take a side trip somewhere else, and for the final week, last year we went to Hong Kong. I came home to San Francisco for a week in January and will likely be going for another week in September this year. So, isn’t that two weeks with my family vs. two weeks with his family — sort of?

My family doesn’t even celebrate Christmas, and Chris’s birthday is Christmas day. Why would Chris want to spend his birthday and Christmas with my miserable family? And why would I want to forsake Christmas?

——————————————–

While writing this post, I received the sad news that my cousin’s wife’s dad suddenly passed away. He had been driving in his car along the road when he wasn’t feeling well, so he pulled over and turned the engine off. A sheriff found him hours later and had to break the window open to find out he was gone. He was 72. They are awaiting an autopsy to find out exactly what happened to him.

So the reality check here: why would I want to forsake Christmas? Maybe I should be spending more time with my parents. Who knows what will happen to them today or tomorrow or next year. How devastating it must have been for my cousin’s wife’s sister to get the call from the sheriff. But if I really believed that, then I would just move back to San Francisco and see them every single day. And I wouldn’t be happy. No matter what happens, I’ll always have a conflicting relationship with my parents. Chances are, it would be far worse if we were closer in geography than farther apart. The fighting and the anger and delusions — none of that is healthy or productive. But maybe, like one of my friends said, maybe one day I may find myself missing fighting with my mom. Maybe? Who knows. All I know now is that I can’t be happy or sane being at home for over a week at a time. It’s just life.

Cousin’s cousin dysfunction

Posted on by
Reply

I received a text from my cousin’s cousin in Montreal letting me know that he’d be in town for work for the next week and a half, and he’d like to meet up if possible. He asked if I could let his cousin, our mutual cousin, in Brooklyn know (don’t wonder why they don’t have each others’ contact information but I have both), so as a courtesy, I did. I let our cousin know we’d be meeting up Sunday late afternoon and evening for dinner. Our cousin’s response was predictable.

“That doesn’t work because <my toddler son’s> music class is at 4:30, and then he has to go to bed at 8:30. So if Andrew wants to see us, he’ll need to come to our neighborhood (in Bensonhurst, really the boonies of outer Brooklyn where no hipsters exist just yet) and have dinner with us,” our cousin responded via text to me.

This is exactly what happened when Andrew’s sister and her family were visiting New York this time last year. Our cousin wanted his entire life accommodated and asked for his cousins to travel over an hour to his neighborhood in Bensonhurst to have dinner, and I rejected it. We should be accommodating them, I said then. They are visiting. You don’t make visitors go to places visitors don’t ever want to go to. Their lives do not revolve around yours. And your life is really boring, so why would they want their lives to accommodate yours?

In this case, I said I would see Andrew on Sunday, and if he wanted to see Andrew, he’d need to connect with him directly and arrange another time.

Some people never change.

Mental list

Posted on by
Reply

As I’ve become an adult and had to deal with my parents and their foibles, I’ve realized that increasingly, my fear is that I will become just like them as parents when and if the day comes that I have my own children. As a parent, you always want to try to do your best, but the scary thing is… what if your “best” isn’t enough? Before people become parents, they often think back to the things that their own parents did that they liked and did not like and hope to replicate the good and not repeat the bad. Over the years, I’ve talked about a “mental list of things not to do when I am a parent.” I kept telling myself I would write it down and put it up somewhere to remind myself. Well, maybe I will put it up here.

  1. Don’t tell your child “one step wrong, and then everything goes wrong.” No one is perfect. We all fuck up and make mistakes. That is what you call “life.”
  2. Don’t tell your child you will do something for them and not do it. They will remember it forever.
  3. Don’t name call your child. Then, you are being childish, aren’t you?
  4. Don’t call your child stupid or an idiot. This reiterates number 3 above.
  5. Don’t hit your child with a metal fly swatter.
  6. If you end up sending your child to private school or college and paying for her tuition, when you have arguments, don’t scream at them and demand they pay every penny back to you.
  7. Don’t make your child feel guilty about having an education. Education is compulsory in every developed western society.
  8. Never tell your children that they “owe” you and the debt can never be repaid. You brought them into this world. That was your choice, wasn’t it? (well, we’d like to assume so).
  9. Don’t make up stories about your child’s life and then start accusing them that these things are true when you are angry.
  10. Don’t tell your child that you are the best parent in the world. No one is the best. No one.
  11. Don’t tell your child that every other parent is inferior, especially her in-laws once she gets married. This is just not nice. Enough said.
  12. Don’t tell your child that she is a bad daughter. Again, not nice.
  13. When a great event happens in your child’s life, don’t nitpick and scream over the tiny details that didn’t go as planned. Glass fully empty and the faucet doesn’t work, anyone?
  14. Don’t open letters/cards addressed to your child. That’s none of your business.
  15. Don’t badmouth people your child likes to her face. And don’t badmouth your spouse to your child.
  16. Don’t call your daughter a prostitute.
  17. Don’t tell your depressed child that he needs to try harder.
  18. Don’t tell your child that she should learn to ride a bike herself.
  19. Don’t call your child weak or dumb when she cries.
  20. Never tell your child that he is worthless or that no one respects him or cares about him.
  21. Don’t expect your child to spend 100 percent of her time at home with you. That’s being selfish.
  22. Don’t pay for meals for your child and get mad when she doesn’t offer to pay. Then, when she does offer and pay, get mad at her for paying. See the no-win situation here?
  23. When your child gives you gifts, don’t scoff and say it “only cost X amount — that’s just peanuts.” You are just asking for no gifts ever again.
  24. When your child points out something you do that is a flaw, don’t come back with “Well, what about you?” and point out something completely unrelated. Remember, act like an adult with your child.
  25. Don’t accuse your child of loving or liking other people more than you and your spouse.
  26. In fact, don’t accuse your child of not loving or caring about you.
  27. Don’t compare your child to his face with other children. Would you want to be compared as a parent?!
  28. Don’t demand that your child call you every single day after s/he has left home.
  29. Don’t tell your child that she lacks wisdom and that you have a lot. If you have to say it, then you don’t.
  30. Don’t assume that just because you are the parent that your child will respect you. Respect is always earned. Demanding respect doesn’t get you anywhere.