Hey Ma,

By Regina Aileenteena

Artwork by Libbe Phan

When I was in middle school, one of the school counselors told me and my friends that those who sleep with their eyelids half-open tend to have a lot on their minds. I don’t know if this is true or not, but I remember checking your eyes when you slept that night. I could see a little bit of white peeking through your lids. I went to bed after that, wondering what you were burdened with.

We have always been close, haven’t we? I think it’s interesting how we were still so close even when I was in my rebellious phase. I would talk back to you angrily sometimes, but I would then lay my head on either your stomach or your shoulder. You would pick me up every day after school and wait near the school gate, and although there were times when I would be embarrassed by it, those feelings were then trampled over by the joy I felt as I talked to you all the way home in the car. Now that I think about it, it really is quite ridiculous how teens feel that being close to their parents is something to be embarrassed about.

When we got into fights, we would each hold our ground, and then you would call me stubborn. But Ma, who do you think I got my stubbornness from?

When we disagreed on something, you would then change the topic. This is a side of you that I find the most infuriating, for once you give up, what I say next will then fall on deaf ears. You would still hear the words that come out of my mouth, but you would no longer listen.

But then at night, when I saw your half-open lids, I would worry again. My anger would fly away as I saw how wrinkles, although very thin, were starting to form at the corner of your eyes. I would then recall how your skin had started to lose its elasticity and feel like bursting into tears. 

You’re getting older, and I hate it. 

And now we’re thousands of miles apart. Canada has been amazing and I am enjoying every second I spend here, but I suppose no place can ever beat being in your arms. 

I still remember how I hugged Pa real tight and how Jiejie cried when they saw me off at the airport. My heart was a little bit heavy as we boarded the plane after that as I wished that both of them could come too. I blamed the expensive tickets. 

I remember how I didn’t shed even a single tear when it was time for you to go back to Jakarta after coming with me to Canada. I was of course a little sad, but my tears always seem to stop working when it comes to real life and only flow down freely when it comes to sad scenes in TV or books. 

Whether through video calls or text messages, you always remind me to pray. I am nowhere as religious as you are, although I do say my thanks and ask for our family and friends’ well-being every night. I don’t interlace my fingers as I probably should, I just close my eyes and say the words in my head. 

When I discovered my passion in writing, I excitedly told you about it. You were happy for me whenever I told you about my instructors’ positive comments on my writings. You were happy when I told you about how I found amazing friends from my creative writing courses. However, when I told you about how I wanted to pursue writing as a career, your reaction made me disappointed. You said that maybe I should study something else as it was hard to make money just by writing. I knew that you had my best interest at heart, but your words upset me back then. What I wanted was your support, yet what I received was a reminder about the difficult road ahead that I myself had already known. I was frustrated as my friends and instructors were all rooting for me, but you—whose voice matters the most—said those words instead.

After a thorough discussion, I am now aware of your worries and truly understand that you just want the best for me. You made it clear that the choice has always been mine, and that you would always support me no matter what I choose. In the end, I chose to study something else first to make sure I can get a job and eat even though writing remains a dear love of mine.

I said this to my best friend once; I feel like throughout my life, I’ve always been inside a carriage and you’ve always been the one who held the reins. I kept asking you to hand them over to me, but you kept hesitating. When you finally thought that it was time to give them to me, I was the one hesitating instead. The reins that I have always asked for my whole life were finally in my hands, but I had no idea where to go. 

Growing up is terrifying. Was it like this for you too, Ma?

Still, I’m glad to have you by my side. I might be stubborn, fiery, and annoying, but please don’t give up on me. 

Thank you for being someone that I can lean on. I want you to know that you can lean on me, too. 

Kisses,

Your daughter