coming home

[This post I've had unfinished for a while on my computer....]

I’ll see Mommy again in less than a month, otherwise my three day visit to Boca was too short. We barely made a dent in the stuffed refrigerator of food she had bought to cook for me or in the overflowing baskets of fruit. Kiwis, navels, pummelos, frozen mango slices from the neighbor’s tree this past summer, pomegranates, bananas, watermelon, avocado, fresh lemonade, and dragon eyes … I ate fruit all day and then stuffed as much as I could into my duffel to take back to winter in North Carolina.

Mommy took me clothes shopping, and we got our hair cut. We drank green tea in the morning, ate dinner too late in the evening, so stayed up until after midnight talking so we wouldn’t bring the calories to bed with us. Mommy even managed to follow my lead and sleep in until ten o’clock one morning!

Going home is nothing fancy, just little everyday things and living together again. Sometimes that can be more of an adjustment than it sounds. I realized a couple important things during this visit.

One is that my mother is very detailed, very quality-conscious, and also has very high standards. I’ve always seen this in her when she describes how to wash and hang clothes, researches and compares items she’s shopping for, tests code at work, responds to an email, wraps a gift for a friend, analyzes someone’s personality, and even when she slices vegetables for a dish. What I hadn’t put together was that she applies these high standards to everything little and big – and that includes me. In a way, I’m one of Mommy’s greatest pieces of work, someone she’s been shaping from the womb, so is that any surprise?

Somehow it’s taken me a long time to figure out, though, and I haven’t reacted well to her rigor since leaving for college. I’ve called it micro-managing, being nit-picky, not wanting to let go, and just built up a lot of defenses and railed against it. I thought I was asserting my independence. Someone with more innate confidence would have let it roll off their backs, but I’m a sensitive person and I’ve tried so hard to do things right, so I took it as criticism. And while being part of two cultures is really eye-opening and confers many advantages, it’s hard to know how to react to Mommy when my friends’ parents always seem supportive and don’t say much to their adult children.

E.g. If I were cooking a meal, American parents would say, “This is delicious!” and “It smells terrific!” as I brought it out and we sat down to eat. My mother would also say similar things in her own way, like “This dish is good because it has the right amount of seasoning” or “The tofu is cooked just right and not too soft”. However, during the whole cooking process, my mother would have suggestions, too. “I’ll buy brown rice for you because it is healthier.” “You should wear gloves if you wash dishes with detergent because detergents are harsh on your skin.” “These mushrooms are not that fresh because they’ve opened up a little, see.” All good advice, yes, for health or wisdom learned over the years, but at some point, I just want to cook a meal.

I’ve been away from home for nine years now, and one does pick up different habits. Sometimes, I must seem like a stranger to Mommy, and I know that’s hard for her. And here she is just trying to pass on wisdom she wished she’d learn earlier in life, and I’m getting annoyed, and it’s getting tense between us. Really, this only happens once in a while, but we both have high standards, and that’s too much.

The other thing I realized in my short visit home is that the comfortable life that my mother wants for her children isn’t necessarily what I want. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to stress over finances. But it's okay if I don't ever drive a brand new car, or have someone to mow my yard, or afford to send my kids to a private college. I know that it's a common thread among immigrants: one generation is able to be more comfortable than the last. I don't know if I can outdo my mother in the arena of what she was able to offer her children. And it's not so much the reality of I'm-a-teacher-and-this-is-how-much-I-make, as much as valuing a simple, thrifty lifestyle. Focus more on community, good habits, hobbies, happy relationships, doing meaningful work. There are influences of the voluntary poverty idea. You can't always have every material thing you want; there are trade-offs.