You Can Stay Longer ...

By Tianyi (Tina) Xu, Los Altos, California, U.S.

Saturday morning. The first thing I did was check to see if my mom’s car was still in the garage. Nope. She left on Friday night for an overnight trip. Finally, I was free.

I had even told her, “You can stay longer if you want.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” she said on her way out.

I was home alone. Total freedom.

Before the pandemic, we didn’t have a close mom-daughter relationship. I never told her much of what was going on in my life, and when she asked, I seldom shared anything. I didn’t think she could understand the pressures of high schoolers. I even remember a time when I thought not being close with my mom was ... cool.

Then the pandemic hit. My brother had left for China, and dad travels most of the time. My mom and I found ourselves confined to the house. We had plenty of time together, but I never felt compelled to talk to her. I’ve always seen myself as an independent person.

Now, I could finally live alone for a week. I retrieved eggs from the fridge, cracked them into the pan, and sang as I flipped them. I snapped a picture of my food, sent it to my mom and wrote: “I made lunch today! You can stay longer if you want. I’m FINE.”

Then I sat back on the couch to enjoy my lunch and called one of my close friends. She asked me why I was so happy, so I explained that I was free of my mom.

She said, “Tina, you should be nicer. She’s your mom.”

I’m lucky my mom is not a stereotypical “Asian mom” who may yell at me if I don’t get good grades. She always tells me to try my best. Was I wrong to withhold so much from her?

The weekend flew past. I started my “typical” pandemic school week. Everything was pretty much the same, except there was never any food sizzling on the stove. It was a lot quieter. Occasionally, I wished there was someone to whom I could say, “Good night.’’

I sat “in class” the next day while my teacher lectured on Zoom. My eyes fell on the waste basket by my desk. It was piled with food wrappers and water bottles. I was reminded of my mom, accidentally interrupting class once to empty the trash.

I turned and hissed, “I’m in class, do it later!”

I furrowed my brow. Why did I do that?

The class period ended, much to my surprise. I had been lost in thought. I went to see if there was any leftover food; I came back to my room with a lone piece of chocolate. I tossed the wrapper in the trash and was mid-bite when I heard the garage door open. My mom was home!

I dashed downstairs and there she was, heaving her suitcase out of the car. I held the door open for her. I was shocked to find that I wanted to hug her. I hesitated wrapping my arms around her tightly. She looked at me, startled.

“What happened?! Are you okay?” she asked.

I realizes at that moment that my mother has always had my back, through this pandemic, from Day 1. I was just too arrogant to see it. That week of confusion and being alone changed my life.

Now when she goes on a trip, I say, “Come back soon.”