Memories of my mom didn’t start until that one day I ate too much orange candy. That day, I remembered I was playing with my brothers out back. We had like a forest in our backyard. Slim gray speckled tree trunks rose up to the sky. Their branches spread at the tops leaving no branches below for us to climb. We remained below, exploring the brush.
“Eww, it’s a frog,” Phong leaned over.
“Where,” Tuan pushed him to the side. “Gross.”
It was on a rock. Its skin was dark green, almost blackish, you’d miss it had it not croaked or picked a white rock to sit on. The flesh under its throat grew and shrank with every sound. Not a very pretty thing for me to look at. I stayed behind and peeked through my brothers’ limbs.
“Get it.”
“No, you get it,” Phong pulled away from my brother as he tried to grab him.
“Go pick it up.”
My brother’s were arguing. Tuan was trying to pull Phong over to the frog. It had long hopped away, but they hadn’t noticed, or even cared. Tuan didn’t like the fact that Phong didn’t do what he said. I never liked being around when they fought. Walking away was always the answer, walking away to my dad. Yeah, I was that kid. The brother that always told on you. This time though, I ran away for another reason. The fight was a distraction for me to get away. I was smiling to myself as I ran inside. A devilish smirk. I had seen my Tuan eating candy earlier. Didn’t share it with anyone.
“Taste like oranges,” he said to my mom. I like orange. Cherry flavor was my favorite, but orange was in the top five.
I opened the cabinet where it was hidden, grabbed them, and ran outside. My brothers were still fighting. They had wrestled each other to the ground. I ate a few. They were my popcorn to a wrestling match starring the two all stars, my brothers. I imagined I’d be the next contender if my brother knew I was eating all of his candy. I had a plan though. Scarf down all of the evidence and discard the package. Had to make sure to bury it or something. No way for him to find out. And even if he did, it may have been worth whatever I had to endure. Children and sweets, the only thing we cared about. I was giddy.
If I had known how to read, I would have said, “I sure wish these Children’s Aspirin came in cherry flavor.”
But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
You know when people say something like, “Oh he’s young, he’ll forget about this in the morning.” Well, it’s completely untrue. There are people that do.
Cause I still remember that moment when I woke up. I remember feeling uncomfortable. I was groggy. My body felt foreign. I was breathing uncomfortably. Something was in my nose and some tube was in my mouth. My belly button felt funny, a bit sharp and achy. I looked up and saw some guy looking over me. He didn’t see me wake up. My eyes where a little out, under his chin. He wore circular framed glasses and had your standard hospital issue face mask. I studied him to see if I recognized him. It wasn’t dad. A stranger. I’d freak out but nothing was really working for me. My mind and my body were under a heavy haze of white. He didn’t notice me until I tried to look around.
“Oh. He’s awake,” he waved to the nurse. A few seconds later, I was out again.
This time when I woke up, I was greeted by a familiar face, my mom. She was sitting next to me on my bed. She caressed my forehead, moving my hair aside. I was sweating coming out of my fever, could also been because my bed was next to a window. The sun light cut through the shade onto my mom, making her glow. She didn’t have any sign of anger on her face. She just smiled as I awoke. I sat and held her.
“What’s happening,” I asked, my tears ran down her arms.
“It’s okay,” she kissed my head.
She held me until I dried out. No more tears, no more snot. Again, I was making a mess on her.
They kept me there for an extra day. I wore one of those blue hospital gowns. You know the one that covers everything in the front but leaves everything behind you exposed. It made me extremely self conscious. We were in the children’s wing with a bunch of other kids and their parents. I was glad my mom was with me. She’d walk me to the bathroom holding one hand while I tried to hold my gown together with the other. This made it difficult to walk as my sock covered feet scuffled along the polished floors. During dinner she’d eat with me and help me secure my new favorite thing, apple juice. Not the apple juice you’d get in the bottle or a cartoon, but the kind you find in a plastic container. The top had to be that shiny aluminum foil that you needed to peel off to drink. It came with every meal we got. My mom would give me hers or buy more for me whenever I woke up from my nap. I liked seeing her when I opened my eyes. She laid facing me, eyes closed, curled up on the tiny bed. Her maternal instincts woke her when I woke.
If by now you think everything was due to bad parenting, I have to disagree. I think it’s really a matter of the best parenting that one can do. We all learn these things as we go along. It’s the caring that drives it. The reaction and adjustments you have to make as things change, your kids change, your environment changes. You can never be around every minute of the day, and you can never predict how clever your kids can be. That was probably what went through my mom’s mind as she dropped everything and came to be with me.
And during my whole stay I didn’t even ask or wonder, where my dad was.
