Galilea, Week 14: Regret Does Nothing
Bao Bei (寶貝): a Chinese term of endearment that is often used to refer to a loved one, like a child. It can be translated as "treasure," "darling," "honey," or "baby."
Act Zero:
A harsh, painful, lengthy, lasting 12 hours, of labor. Celebrating her birthday was not possible since she had to deliver her child that day. September 9 slowly staggered into September 10, welcoming the birth of her baby. Her Bao Bei.
September 10, 2007, the day of my birth.
Act Two:
The two of them live in their apartment in Taiwan. Relatives and friends help her raise the child. Loved by the connections from the mother, the child was blessed. Restarting life, and learning how to take care of a baby her baby, she works hard to balance the pressures of life while trying to do right for her daughter. Her Bao Bei.
My mom tells me these stories about the people who were in my life. She pictures it as a little girl whom people cherished and showered with love. I remember none of this.
Act Five:
She works hard. It is a new country, a foreign language, a strange culture; it is lonely, but she has a child who is worth it. She works day and night. All of this hard work is for the child she now rarely sees because she slaves away at her job. The money is all for her child, The money is all for her child, there is no thought of truly prioritizing herself. Money that is for taking the child to Taiwan- something the little girl loves more than anything. Money that is for putting food on the table. Money that is for buying that girl all the wonderful things the world has to offer. Her Bao Bei.
My mom was not present in my day-to-day life. Never having her full attention I felt that affected the way I thought about her. The only time I had her was when she took me out on trips during my vacations. I never really knew.
So, so many things changed since then…
I don’t remember so much of my life from ages one to ten. It all comes from my mom and the other people I spent my time with. I hear a lot of stories about myself that don’t remember. It feels like they could be describing another child. It all feels so distant. However, the distance and added maturity add another layer to these memories and stories. I see things clearer. I am no longer blinded by the childish thoughts of wanting to throw a tantrum when I don’t get enough of my mom’s attention. Rather, now I can see that I was being shielded from the reality of an immigrant Taiwanese woman who moved continents for her Bao Bei.
Questioning the love of her mother since her love language is quality time, without it she feels neglected. The memories of me thinking like this still resurface and it makes me regret them. I regret ever doubting her dedication to me. Now that I can see clearly, I understand the magnitude of my mom’s love. I lived in my world, believing I was the victim.
Though regret gets me nowhere. She is not the perfect mother, nor I am the perfect daughter. The past will never be something we can change. Regret should only prompt us to do better. Although perfection is not achievable, the act of striving to be better is.
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| Nadra Khan |
Hello Galilea! Once again I am astonished by the lovely way that you write. You have a special ability to make your writing feel so genuine and filled with emotions. It is personal and I love how you take liberties in exploring style and tone, using various rhetorical choices that make it feel like you are really speaking to the reader. In case you can’t tell, I adore it. Also, those choices you make with your blog always feel conscious like you have something that you want to say. For me, there are times when I feel hesitant to talk about more personal things, but you go all out and I love that for you. As for the content of your writing, I understand what you mean about not understanding the way our parents loved us until later on in life and how it is a sign of maturity and growth to see beyond yourself to understand the circumstances of how and why our parents show their love in specific ways. When I was younger I remember throwing temper tantrums when my dad would force me or my brother to go out with him to the store or shop. One day I remember the moment that I reached a sort of enlightenment. I was sitting in the car and asked myself “Why was I so sad?” I remember then apologizing to him because I realized that there was no use to me being in a bad mood when I was already in the car. I don’t remember anything after that, but that moment has just stuck with me. I had a random epiphany that I was making his life harder for no reason and I should do my utmost to make him happy because he loves and cares for me so much. That idea has motivated me ever since.
ReplyDeleteHey Galilea! I love how you formatted your blog in such a unique way! I understand where you are coming from when it comes to childhood memories since I also cannot remember that much of my childhood. I remember how I would constantly asking my parents what I was like when I was younger mostly cause I forgot and also because the stuff I did as a child was something so out of the ordinary for me. As a way, I think that I look back at my actions and try to better myself from them and change who I am. Maybe this explains why it seemed so off when seeing a clear difference between my younger self and my current self. I feel that we see this difference because we grow as time goes on so we change ourselves to fit what we think make sense. I feel that this idea mostly fits with me more since I think that I change myself to fit what I want to perceive myself to the public. Overall, I like how your blog changes from this story telling style to a more personal style. Thank you for your blog!
ReplyDeleteHey Galilea, first I want to compliment the formatting of your blog. At first, it kind of confused me a bit, but after reading it a couple more times and getting used to it I've come to realize the uniqueness of it. It makes your blog stand out and more appealing. I can heavily relate to the content of your blog. Growing up, I never had the best relationship with my dad, and honestly I can't explain why. It wasn't until I got older that I built a strong bond with my dad. I realized that my dad has sacrificed a lot for me. He grew up poor, and worked hard to give me the privilege to live a comfortable life. The least I could do for him is to be a decent son. Younger me didn't understand this, so I didn't really have a strong relationship with him. Overall, I really liked the unique formatting of your blog, and the sentimental feel it brought me.
ReplyDeleteHello Galilea! The structure of your blog was extremely captivating, I haven't seen anyone take this approach to their blog. I love how you connected your personal experiences to the structure of a play. This blog was beautifully written, from beginning to end. I relate to you in that our parents' hard work often took time from us, but it was always in the interest of their children. My parents came to America a year before I was born and they often recall how they struggled to make ends meet sometimes while supporting their families back home in India as well as their young family. I like how you mention that neither you or your mom is "perfect," it is a gentle reminder that everyone is flawed in some way, and that's what makes us human. I admire how you connect this to regret, and as I read Anna's blog this week I though about how we can never change the past, but only improve for the future. The sacrifices your mother made to support you, often at the cost of her own well-being is admirable and reminds me the importance of hard work. My favorite part of your blog was defining "Bao Bei" and using it throughout your blog for an extremely personal touch. This was a really unique and inspiring read, thank you for sharing!
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