Quiet evening at home

I was shivering and close to tears as I slowly cycled home. I never realised or expected that it would come to this... that I'd be dreading to go home and see my own family.

The four hours or so at uni seemed much too short. Again, woke up this morning to heated exchanges and arguments. To be honest, my dad is terribly ill, not only physically but also mentally. And when he feels like it, he just shouts abuse and threatens to do this and that. This morning it was about my brother's girlfriend, and the fact that she's living at our place without contributing anything. And because she comes from China, my dad has this strong stereotype and deep suspicion that she is like all Chinese people he knows and hears about in the media: theiving, coniving and good-for-nothings.

The funny thing is, a few days ago my dad and the girlfriend were getting alone fine, and he even gave her some money for new year's (a tradition with us). And suddenly she's the "enemy", she's a "Commie", and she's supposed to be trying to "take over" the house. Screaming, shouting, ranting about all these far-fetched conclusions and conspiracy theories, just like a naive child who knows so little about the world, but doesn't want to know any more than what he sees and believes as true. A twisted, conceited and bitter old man, who is so ill physically and mentally he doesn't seem to realise it, but goes from day to day driven by anger and frustrations and sorry addictions.

I was in the middle of it all, trying to talk some sense into my dad. I said time and again, you can't equate Chinese people with the Chinese government; it's racism, pure and simple. Besides, you don't have the right to come between two people in love. I told my dad, he doesn't need to approve of anything, but he doesn't have to treat people like dirt and scum even though they have done nothing wrong to him. And really, my brother's girlfriend has done nothing to my dad, but my dad just goes on ranting and raving about conspiracy theories and Commies. I try and try, trying to make him open his eyes, open his mind, but he serious is too blind and narrowminded beyond hope. In the end, I contacted the girlfriend and told her it's best not to be here for the next week or so while my dad is around. By midday, she moved her things out.

Dad thinks he won, but in fact he lost much more. He dares not to go up to my brother and the girlfriend to confront them about all this, and thinks just by treating people like dirt they'll cave in and move away. Of course, my brother got furious and left with his girlfriend. Later in the afternoon, my brother called me while I was studying. One of the first things he said was to warn me of a "confrontation". In the half an hour or so we spoke, he told me several times he has reached the end of his "tolerance level", and will "soon enough" confront dad if dad "goes too far".

I stood outside the library, and shook and felt my heart sink and sigh, as I heard my brother rant and rave about my dad, and warning of the "havoc to come"... I could have burst into tears again there and then. I pleaded to my brother, trying to calm his temper and tried to explain why dad is so angry and upset. All the years of no contact and no communication resulted in a lot of misunderstanding and distrust, and suddenly put two equally subborn, and equally short-tempered people who are so much alike in so many ways together, it's a war waiting to break out. Again, I was in the middle of it all, pleading, putting in a good word for the other person, while trying to appeal to reason and understanding. I tried to appeal to compassion, hoping that my brother could see two sides of the story instead of just the side tainted with hatred and anger. I reminded him that though dad is a terrible dad and has hurt us so many times, he did provide us with a good education and a good life. And, though I hate to say or think it, I told my brother that the way my dad goes on living like this, living in utter denial, shrouded in deep suffering and greed, he wouldn't have much longer... I pleaded for mercy, begged my brother to think of other people, to think of mum's fragile health that cannot stand to bear more screaming and fighting... I told him I could wish for nothing else but that everyone live in peace and happiness. In the end, my brother just said he couldn't promise anything. If confrontation comes, it will come.

I dragged myself home, dreading to face my family, and wishing I could go somewhere else, and be with people who don't shout and harbour so much hatred and anger...

The house was empty and darkening when I arrived around six. I set out to make dinner, thinking they'd all come home to eat. Half an hour later, mum rang the doorbell, and she was the only one who came home. Brother definitely won't come home after what happened this morning, and dad made the lame excuse that he doesn't want to be around this "mess", so disappeared off to his beloved casino again.

Mum and I sat down together to have dinner... no fighting, no anger, no hatred. Just my mum and me (and the sleeping cat), sharing, telling stories, and trying to re-capture all the happy and sad things that have happened in each other's lives in the last year or so while apart.

I listened to her attentively, pouring the occassional tea into her cup whenever it was empty. She talked about living with dad, about how they live such estranged and separate lives, about how they don't talk much, about dad's selfishness and greed, about dad's ailing health, and about how dad would suddenly throw tantrum over the smallest and most trivial things... More and more I was reminded of my life here with my brother, and more and more I was reminded of the saying "like father, like son".

I sat listening to my mum, allowing her to pour out the emotions and bottled up frustrations and hoping by 'emptying' on me, she would feel better, lighter and happier. She deserves to be happy, to be free from a raving mad man, and deserves the peace and quiet to recover from her illness... She told me in detail about the operations she had undergone, about those painful chemo-treatments, about the loneliness she feels at times because I'm so far, far away... I watched her closely, noticing the wrinkles that have formed on her face, around her eyes and on her hands, noticing how the hairlets around her ears have turned gray....

Emotional moments of bonding and sharing, just between my mum and me. Smiles, little tears, laughs and sighs we shared, and like so many times before we connected so deeply I could feel the mutual caring and love all around us. A far, far world away from the shouting and confrontations, and vain attempts to appeal to peace and understanding.

But deep down, I fear that that world far, far away may only be too near...