Relief

The moon is bright and round tonight, the first full moon after the lunar new year. It is a festival in Taiwan, a night on which children carry lanterns, and families gather around and eat glutinous rice balls filled with creamy sesame or peanut paste.

It was a glorious day, with beautiful weather and the feel of early summer. Butterflies fluttered around playfully, while some flowers were already in bloom, filling the air with a fresh, natural scent. Together with my family, I headed into the mountains to pay a visit to the monastery. We sat around to have lunch, and mum looked at ease to be in the beautiful surroundings, and to be in the presence of the monk we all revere.

At one point, we were left alone, and there was just the monk, my mum and I sitting at the table. We had just had a philosophical conversation about worries and about letting go when that day of leaving (ie death) eventually comes. “So what’s the main worry on your mum,” I prodded, knowing very well what that main worry was, “My marriage?” Like all Asian parents, the marriage of a child is perhaps the most important thing in the world… marriage (after receiving a proper (and preferably PhD level) education, then having children, and having a respectable career).

My mum turned to the monk, and said very frankly that this was indeed the last thing on her mind. “But I know there are things I cannot change, and I will not force anything. As long as he is happy, that’s what matters.”

The monk simply nodded, and I looked at my mum. She had a quiet expression on her face, neither sad, nor happy. In the most open and candid way I have ever heard her speak, even though we have touched on the topic so many times before in the past, mum added:  “I guess orientation is a natural thing, and it cannot be changed.”

“He’s already grown up, and has his own life to lead. He knows what’s best for him, so why worry?” the monk said, rhetorically. Many things in life we worry and fret about, even though we are so utterly powerless to change circumstances and the way people are.

“His friend was here, and he seems to be a good person,” mum said, to my surprise. So all this time, she knew what was going on between my friend and me. I guess while he was visiting and staying over at our family home, we never really made a scene of things, but we did not go purposely out of our way to hide evidence of our affection either. And all these stuffed toys mum has seen lying around the house, she knows they are from my friend, and she knows I hug a big teddy bear to sleep every night. Just a few days ago, she was right next to me when I opened a Valentine’s Day package from my friend, and as I opened it, heart-shaped cut-outs fell out. “I feel I cannot stand in the way of his happiness, if he says he is happy.”

I put a hand on mum’s knee and petted it as we looked at one another briefly in the eyes.  There was a feeling of relief riveting through me, and a feeling of joy, and I could not wait to recount to my boyfriend the conversation that had just taken place today. I felt as if this was the seal of approval I have been waiting for for a long time. It was like a blessing, if not, then at least recognition of who I am as a person, and that I no longer have to hide ‘myself’ from her. Of course it does not change anything in the strong mother-son relationship we have, and does not change how we feel toward one another, I think the conversation this afternoon, especially in the presence of the monk whom we both respect the opinion and wise counsel of, reassured both my mum and I, and lifted a heavy burden off of our shoulders.

For such a long, long time, I tried to avoid the topic directly, and would only bring it up tacitly, out of fear of provoking mum, disappointing her, and adding to her worries, and thus aggravating her illness. I felt so fortunate to have such an accepting and strong mother. As the monk later said, all this time, she was probably just waiting for me to bring up the topic and to start the conversation.

But now I know. My mum loves me, she cares about me deeply, and she just wants me to be happy, for she is my mother.