here, always
I despised the Chinese in me. Only repped my Thai side. I hated getting angry. A reminder of your bad temper. Ma work 2 jobs while you lay on the couch watching CNN.
At 14,
I made too much sound putting away CDs
“Quiet down!” you say
I held em high above my head and dropped it on the ground
Predictably, you rushed towards me
Threw a punch towards my chest
I
Blocked
Pushed off your hand
You
Shocked
Changed your plan then
Grabbed the closest chair you could find
Made a gesture to throw it across the room while cursing me out at the same time
In my head I’m yelling
Fuck you! Fuck the world!
like Eminem (my hero at the time)
Instead I’m silent
Stood my ground
Fist clenched
Heart beating fast
Ready for anything
Wait
Nothing happened
You dropped the chair
Stormed upstairs
It was the last time you tried hitting me
How dare you tell me what to do!
Where were you
during the first 8 years of my life
?????????????????????
I didn’t know who you were then. I don’t know who you are now. No one said anything about you. I remember laying in bed fantasizing. Thinking you’re a multi-millionaire. I thought you didn’t care.
At 17,
I heard you in the kitchen. After hanging up the phone with my counselor, “Your youngest son is chronically depress, He needs therapy and anti-depressants.” You mutter “Waingum.”
Translation: What did I do to deserve this?
At 20,
My hate fades along with my interest in corporate-created music
profiting from teenage angst like Limp Bizkit.
I wanna talk to you
I wanna ask
What’s the hardest part about leaving everything you’ve ever known and loved?
Did you ever cry at night cuz you miss me?
What would’ve happen if you got deported or jailed when they found you didn’t have a green card at the time?
What if you never obtained your goals and didn’t have enough money to come back home?
I was a baby. I couldn’t say
Pa
When you left
I picture you at the airport saying good-bye
Wiping tears from Ma’s eyes
Promising to send toys for your three lil boys
Escaping enormous debt to survive alone on foreign soil
Do you know how many times I ask myself
Did I do something wrong?
Why did you leave?
Don’t you love me?
Don’t
You
LOVE
Me?
You LOVE me.
That’s why you had to leave. Your sacrifices brought us all here. Ma, Hea Bop, Hea Pond, you and I are all US citizens. I’ll probably never hear you say those three words. I know you say it in your own special ways like buying roasted duck or driving for hours to help move my stuff.
At 21,
We’re alone in the car. On the 5 South from Santa Cruz to Los Angeles. Typically a 6 hour drive when you drive. After many failed attempts. I finally break our mutual silence.
I don’t know you at all. I wanna know more about you.
“That’s just how you feel and not how it is.”
Conversation Ends.
At 22,
I stop holding you to status quo standards of fatherhood.
and begin to accept
You reproduce what you’ve been taught
At 23,
You remain a mystery
Like Chinese history
In my blood
We’ll be alright
Your love for your sons is unchanging
When you’re no longer here
I know
Your love remains
here, always
© pathanapong pathanadilok 2007
