Category: Living

The feelings at home when mother is also at home.

The feeling of silence. I would be afraid of making any sound, even the drop of a pin. I would be light footed when I move inside my room. I would not turn up the volume on TV let alone playing piano even when I have strong mood of emotions. I would even suppress the sound of getting my dinner out of it’s packaging.

The feeling of mobility. I would have limited mobility, meaning that I do not want to be freely mobile at will of my desires. I would first lock myself in my room most of the time, I would not go to use the kitchen for lunch or dinner if I heard activities in the kitchen at the time. I would be so afraid of seeing mother staring at me or playing the pitying cripple act once I open my room door or when I turn the corner going out to the kitchen.

The feelings of coming home, leaving home. When I come home, the moment of fear would be when I open the door from the garage to inside, mother would shout something aloud noticing I am back, and I would want to dash directly into my locked room having the key ready when I was in the garage. When I leave home, the moment of fear would be when I shut the locked door of my room and open the door to the garage, mother would shout aloud something asking where I am going, I would be more afraid of her rushing out to the garage door to ask me where I am going even though her bad knees which she claimed strongly had limited her mobility to walking canes and walkers at slow motion for many years.

“Don’t make me sad.”

Her eyes are wide open meaning she is dead serious when she tells him.

“Yeah.” The man says.

“Don’t make me cry.”

“Yeah……Yeah…….” The man responded immediately as if he were ordered by a commander.

“Don’t make me uncomfortable at any time.”

“Oh!”

“Wow!” The man says.

“Yeah! I’d try my best.” The man continues.

“But, ……. Do you make me …….?”

“Make you sad? Make you cry? Make you feel uncomfortable?” She questions him.

“Well, I don’t know. “ She goes on.

“I might. I would.”

Silence.

Hey, dad…..

Say, let’s talk……..

Hey, dad, are you happy?

–silence–

Hey, dad, do you need any help?

No………

Sure? You really don’t need any help?

–silence–

Hey, dad, what do you want?

Is there anything you want? Anything you want to do?

You want anything from me?

Hey, dad………

OK…… OK…….

–silence–

Say, dad, let’s take a walk.

No, I don’t want to walk.

Why not, dad?

Why don’t you want to walk?

–silence–

Hey, dad, let’s talk.

Hey, dad, would you tell me a story?

–pause–

I don’t know any story to tell.

Just tell me anything, dad.

I don’t have any story, I don’t have anything to tell you.

But dad, I really want to hear from you telling me a story.

–deep silence–

–silence–

Hey, dad, can I tell you something?

–silence–

I miss you and……I am sorry.

I hope you can hear me………….

AND

Hey, mom……..

Hey, mom………. do you like me?

Hey, mom……… am I your son?

Yeah……….. you’re my son.

Hey, mom, am I being a son of whom you want me to be?

What do you mean?

Am I the son you want me to be?

–silence–

Do you like what I have been doing as your son?

What do you mean?

I don’t know. Is there anything you want from me? Is it you want me to do what you wanted me to do?

–weeping started–

Is that what you’re thinking of me as this kind of person?

What do you think I want you to do?

Are you saying I want you to listen to me and do what I want you to do?

–pause–

I guess………..I don’t know, that’s why I asked. Heck, I might not even know I asked correctly.

–silence– but weak weeping continuing

Hey, mom, have you ever lied to me?

No……….no………….no………

–stronger weeping–

Hey, mom, I’ve always wanted to make you happy, you know that, right?

Hey, mom, are you happy?

–silence–