I Want To Heart Life

When I was about 12 or 13 my dad got colon cancer.  I didn’t really understand much of what was going on then.  You see, my mom never told me much of anything about what was going on with the family.  That’s just how she was and that was just how our family dynamic was.  I was the youngest and because of that fact it seemed that I didn’t need to be concerned or burdened with these things, along with her notion that I was just a kid.  She never seemed to respect me the way that she respects my older sister.  More on this in a bit.

All I remember at the time was that my dad was having surgery for something.  I knew cancer was a big deal, but I guess it never really registered that it was a serious thing.  I don’t remember anyone ever telling me that dad had cancer.  I just remember bits and pieces at the time.  Something about my dad being tired a lot.  Something about him finding blood in his stool.  Something about a doctor’s appointment, and then the next thing I remember was waiting in the hospital while he went through surgery.  Something about the doctor removing a section of the colon. 

He came out of surgery fine.  It turned out that whatever growth or whatever section of the colon the doctors had taken out, the surgery had taken care of it.  He was fine and life went back to normal. 

That’s just how my family was.  We never talked about anything of importance and if things were discussed, my family certainly didn’t include me in on the conversations.  I resent how my mom never talked to me like I was a person whose life was affected by decisions she’d make or how she never really took the time to seek my input on these things.  I wish we would have had family meetings or dinners around the table.  There was none of that while I was growing up and I never felt like anything I had to say mattered to her. 

My mom always had this dependency on my oldest sister.  A lot of that was due to the fact that my mom relied a lot on my sister to help her navigate through the basics of life, like bill paying or other day to day transactions that most people would handle on their own.  My mom speaks in broken english, although her comprehension is good, and I remember my sister telling me stories of being 7 or 8, and having to translate and take care of some sort of transaction for my mom.  My sister would tell me times when she’d have to read mail or other letters that my parents received and then having to translate the information for my mom. 

My dad speaks perfect english, having been about 10 when he came to the US.  My mom came to the US when she was ~21, and for some reason just didn’t progress past a certain level with it.  While my dad spent most days at our store, my mom would alternate her time between helping him there and doing general mom duties, like shuttling us to piano lessons or other school activities.  I just always remember my older sister in some capacity as taking care of things or being the one to go to about stuff.

My mom would always go to my older sister for advice on how to handle things.  I don’t remember my mom ever asking my opinion on things.  I don’t remember her asking me much of anything now that I think about it.  She never asked how school was.  She never asked how my day was.  She never asked what I wanted to do for my birthday.  Nothing.  She never asked me anything about myself at all.  In fact, I bet that if someone asked her to tell them something about me, the most she’d be able to say is that I live in SF and my favorite color is blue.  She didn’t even ask much about the new job I took last November.  She doesn’t know how stressful that decision was for me because it was a big career change at the time.  She doesn’t even know what kind of work I do.  She hasn’t even asked me how things are since I started that job.

My older sister has always been my “real” mom.  I remember her finding ways to entertain me in the ways that a mom usually does.  She’d sit down and draw and color with me.  She’d make up games for us to play.  She’d help me with my homework, or she’d be there for me when I was feeling rejected when my other sister wouldn’t want to play me.  I know now that it’s never about what you can give or do for your kids.  It’s all about the time that you spend with them.  I never had that with either of my parents.  I can barely count the number of times that I clearly remember just enjoying time spent with one or both of my parents outside of the holidays.  I never had much one-on-one time with them at all while I was growing up.

I’ve been so sad lately when I think about the relationship that I’ll never have with my parents.  I want to run to mom and dad now more than I ever have in my life and it tears me up knowing that I can’t.  I want to know that whatever I decide to do with my life that they will there with me, whether it’s to rejoice with me or whether it’s to help pick up the pieces should I fail.  I’m so fearful of living that I don’t know what to do.  All I feel right now is the desire to run to mom and dad and to feel and know their love for me, but each time my thoughts and emotions go there, I hurt more.  I realize now that a parent’s ability to instill love in their child is the best gift they could ever give. 

I’m tired of crying.  I’m tired of feeling so displaced.  I’m tired of wanting love and not being able to find it.  I’m tired of taking care of myself.  I’m tired of life and all of its monotony.  I’m tired of trying new things and still not having found my passion yet.  I’m tired of pretending that everything’s ok.  I’m tired of praying and wondering if God is really listening.  I’m tired of doing things God’s way.  I’m tired of optimistic people.  I’m tired of being uninspired.  I’m tired of being tired.  I’m just tired of life.

What is going on with me?  Why am I so depressed and negative?  I’ve got so much to be thankful for and yet I don’t feel any gratitude. 

I want to heart life and I can’t right now.    Please tell me it will get better.  Please?  Please??