Well whaddaya know, my little brother writes better short stories than I do. I wonder when I’m going to get tired of boasting about him. I’m sure it makes me sound like an old woman.

And what’s this? Classical music romance, ohoho! I guess that means he really knows what he’s doing with his life.

The door shut behind him as he made his way onto the porch. He sat down on the bench, sipped his coffee, and sighed. It was Christmas Eve. Despite the snow and the cold, He felt quite comfortable on the front porch in the early morning. The neighborhood was quiet that morning. The snow was light and plentiful. It was a peaceful morning. The soft glow of the sun crept up above the clouds; bits of sunlight sprinkling the neighborhood.

He smiled as he looked across the street at his neighbours’ houses, all decorated with bright lights, candy canes and snowmen. He took a sip of coffee again. The snow could be shoveled later, he thought. The dinner party isn’t until 8 in the evening, and it wasn’t even 7 in the morning yet.

A voice called out from across the fence. “Well, aren’t you up early this morning. Didn’t know you were an early bird now.”

“Good morning to you too, Eliza. Lovely weather, isn’t it? It isn’t often we get such nice snow down here.” he answered. “Hop on over the fence. Let me get you a cup of coffee.”

—-

He lived with his grandparents. His mother and father were always overseas on business, and his sister had moved out four years ago. He just graduated from high school, but he already inherited his father’s fortune. He spent his days at home, listening to music and playing piano. He taught music in the afternoons. His grandparents never liked the music, but they couldn’t deny their grandson had some hint of talent, so they never said anything against it.

“So, what’re you up to today? Practicing more piano? It’s Christmas Eve, man. Take a break!” Eliza was always like that. She was always so laid back about everything. “Easy for you to say, everything comes to you so naturally” he replied.

“Are you kidding me? Quit trying to be so modest. You have to take some pride in yourself, yknow? I’ve played with you, you’re not as bad as you make yourself to be.”

Eliza had been his neighbour for the past 3 years now. She had moved next door around a week before Christmas, although the two never actually met until half a year after she moved. He was sitting on his porch that Summer morning, just doing his usual gazing into the distance, sipping his hot chocolate at the time (he only started drinking coffee after high school), when he heard a violin from next door. Where was this beautiful music coming from? He was curious. He was used to being the only musician in the block. He put his hot chocolate down, climbed over the porch railing and peered over the fence. The living room window next door was wide open. He wasn’t expecting such a stunning girl to be his neighbour. And man, could she play the violin! She stopped suddenly, looked out across the fence, and saw his face, struck with awe. He smiled, and to his surprise, she waved and smiled back. “I play piano, let’s play together sometime.” he called.

 

 

 

They did this to us. They can never repair the wrong and the injustice. 

As Trumon got older, I became increasingly bitter towards him because he would not stand up for me, even though he knew I was right, even though he was in a position of privilege because the parents don’t treat him badly. But he’s my little baby brother, I don’t want to ask him to be strong for me either. Children shouldn’t have such burdens.

Trumon wrote this at the beginning of 2013 but I saw it just now. I always needed him to be there (and this he didn’t always do) to say what I couldn’t come to terms with: that the abuse was real and that I wasn’t making it up. I just needed to hear it, to know that my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me because I couldn’t tell if I was going crazy. What if I really were just a spoiled, ungrateful brat? No … no. It wasn’t my fault.

We shouldn’t do this to children. I feel like I’ll always be a small child, waiting for the parents that I deserve.

Thoughts on parenting; thoughts on growing up

My parents and my sister have been on bad terms for years now. Being the baby of the family, no one is ever picking a fight with me. But because of this, for as long as I can remember, I’ve been stuck in the middle of the fight. Sometimes, the parents are right. Sometimes, my sister is right. But sometimes, I just can’t side with anyone.

 

My sister’s side of the argument is that the parents are abusive. She feels neglected, harassed and misunderstood. Dad has had a streak of immaturity and abusiveness throughout our childhood, which is was upsets my sister so much. She calls out on Dad for his irresponsibility as a caring father, which only makes things worse. Despite his actions, Mom still defends him, simply because he is Dad. The parents have absolutely no reason left in them. My sister has been insisting for many months to move out to her boyfriend’s house, where it is a much more caring and loving environment, as opposed to our own house.

The conclusion to this argument: the parents pays the tuition; the parents feeds the house; the parents supports the family financially; you are an ungrateful, spoiled, stubborn child who just wants to be with her boyfriend.

 

My parents’ side of the argument is that my sister is stubborn. She’s stubborn, spoiled, and bossy. In Chinese philosophy, they say that my sister has too much of the fire element. My parents feel that my sister can never realize her wrongs because she’s too proud and too stubborn. They try to protect her from harm and heartbreak. They try to tell her that she has to remember her reputation as a woman and that moving into her boyfriend’s house is bad for her. Mom thinks that she’s done everything she can as a mother and that she’s not wrong.

The conclusion to this argument: the parents pays the tuition; the parents feeds the house; the parents supports the house financially; you are an ungrateful, spoiled, stubborn child who just wants to be with her boyfriend.

 

A few months down the road, the arguments and the bitterness still linger. The atmosphere in the house is always heavy. No one is safe. A few weeks later, things break apart. Mom gives up and my sister move out, but she still hopes that my sister will come back. My sister leaves the house in tears. Mom doesn’t still doesn’t understand the abuse that my sister feels. And then the house is quiet. Present day, and now it’s mom’s turn to crack under the pressure.

 

—–

 

We all hear stories about homophobia and bullying in school. We all hear about suicide attempts and the suffering that the LGBT community has put up with. We have all seen those kids with mental disabilities in the hallway, or alone on the side of the classroom. We all hear and see those kids who ridicule those with disabilities, or hear homophobic jokes around the class. It wasn’t until recently that I found out that my cousin has partial autism. We were always told that he had a case of ADD. It came to me like a slap to the face. How was it that for my entire childhood, we were told something completely different? Furthermore, I don’t think his parents knew that it was autism either. 

I remember when we were young, imagining the future meant finding a job, having a house and a car, having a lovely spouse, and children. I remember hearing girls talk about how cute it’d be to have a kid, and then they’d proceed to come up with names and everything and how they’d live their lives. Everyone thinks of those kind of things at one point or another. But then I read this article the other day. I sat there, speechless, for many moments. It occurred to me how little I knew about parenting. Many times, you think of parenting as having a spouse, a house, income, and a child. You imagine parenting to be taking your child to lessons, going out for dinner with them every so often, having popcorn and movie nights, and so on.

 

—-

 

I had a girlfriend in the past. It was my first girlfriend, and unfortunately, our relationship ended badly. Why? We were young. We still are. Because of that relationship though, I’ve learned many things. I’ve learned the many sides and obstacles to having a relationship. As teenagers, your relationship is not just between you and your partner. Your relationship is also your parents’ relationship too, unfortunately. I’ve learned that the hard way, which I can say quite confidently that that has scarred me.

Meeting new people is that much more complicated because of that past experience. I find myself ridiculously nervous around girls’ parents now, whether it’s my crush, or just any other girl friend. It’s that fear of parents looming over your shoulders at every moment. My sister says that I’m just a flaker who gets pushed over by something as measly as that, and that if I really liked someone, then those things wouldn’t matter. But even then, the fear doesn’t go away.

 

—-

 

I always laugh it off and make a joke out of my white hairs when people mention it. “Oh, I’m such an old man, hahaha”. Seeing as I can’t hide it, why not embrace it? But sometimes, I think about it, and I feel as if they show something. 

I’ve watched my sister and my parents fight since I was in grade 4 or so. I’ve been in a terrible relationship that has left a bad scar. I’ve been in this bitter atmosphere for so long, and sometimes, it really does feel like I’m too old for this. 

You hear cases of disabilities, bullying, abuse, death and struggles, and it scares you. You hear stories like Anarchist Soccer Mom’s son Michael, shootings, and mental illnesses, and it scares you. You wake up in the morning knowing that anything could go wrong between someone in the house, and it scares you.

You try and move on from your past relationship experiences. You try to find new people, find new relationships, new friends, and it scares you. You meet people’s parents, you’re put into expectations, you’re put in these strange atmospheres, and it scares you. You try and imagine a life with the perfect wife,  job and kids. But then you hear these cases of mental illnesses, you experience it first hand at your cousin’s house, you see your sad excuse for parents, and it scares you.

 

 

Thank god for Spring break week giving me the time to see my optometrist, counselor, doctor, chiropractor, and maybe also the optician. The 40+ hour work week just doesn’t allow you any time to breathe.

Thank god for the Canadian health care system, student discounts, free counseling services from my school, and my somewhat affordable two health insurance plans, otherwise I’d've spent my paycheque for the month. And I’ll still have to pull out a lot of money.

I’ve tried to give apples to panhandlers downtown in the past a few times and they told me they couldn’t eat apples anymore because their teeth had fallen out. They weren’t especially old people, between 30-50 years old. Even so, properly cared for teeth should last you into old age. My uncle is a dentist and my paternal grandparents have never had a need for dentures.

It’s absolutely criminal that neither our provincial nor federal government cover dental care. Teeth shouldn’t be something that only the rich can afford to have.

Never mind hoping the government will enact a plan for ending/reducing poverty.