Back to my singleton life, alone in my apartment on a gray Saturday morning. My parents are now in San Francisco, prob. chattering with my Uncle and his (very) big family over steaming breakfast in the sun-drenched living-room on a typical Californian day. Listening to the flowing sound of piano from the stereo, I feel a bit empty, a bit lonely, and yet, also with a zen-like serenity.
Took them to the Pittock Mansion Tue morning. At first, the thick morning fog obscured everything, but when the sun came out, it was sheer beauty all around: the dew drops on trees sparkling like Christmas lights, reflecting brilliant colors of the sun; Mt. Hood standing on the horizon in its full glory, the perfect triangle, its snow-covered ridges clearly visible; steam slowly rising from the ground like magic smoke in a fairy tale.
We went to the Kennedy School for Thanksgiving dinner. It was an awesome meal. The turkey and pork legs were underwelming as expected (I have never really had “awesome” turkey), but all the other dishes were delicious, esp. the sugar-glazed sweet potatoes, the creamy mashed potatoes, and surprisingly, even the salad!
The last few days were pleasant with a tinge of sadness, as we realized that it’d be another year before we would see each other again.
Friday morning we got up at 5am so they could catch their 8am flight to San Francisco. We had ample time to spare so we sat down a bit before they went through security. We didn’t talk, pre-departure apprehension hanging in the air. When the time came, I hugged my Mom for the first time, in a long long time. We are not a touchy-feely family, and even though nowadays I hug my friends all the time, for cultural reasons I still found it hard to express my affection this way even towards my parents. I did it anyway and my Mom was taken aback. I turned to my Dad, put my hand on his shoulder, but he turned his body sideways, patted me on my hand, and it was just really awkward to hug him this way. My Mom said “you hug your Dad too.” but with him turning like that, how could I? So I didn’t. It was soooo weird. This is the problem with my family – we love each other but we seldom express it, verbally or physically, and it drives me crazy sometimes, because how I long to hear that they think that I am great, that they are proud of me, that they love me – everything that I never heard growing up, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to tell them that I love them either. We are just a bunch of very repressed people.
The rest of the day was spent on doing laundry (four loads of them), apartment cleaning, and grocery shopping. Then I went to the gym, did a full set of yoga, and called GS. Went to bed at 10:30pm and slept 10 hours straight. I am tired.
I am thankful for a lot of things this Thanksgiving: I spent it with my parents, we are finally at peace with each other and accept each other for who we are (to some extent), I have great friends, I am getting stronger and slimmer in a healthy way, and despite all my complaints, I do have choices and “destiny” in my own hands (so to speak).
