Category Archives: Family

May Shit Flowers

Well, I was hoping to be in better spirits given that we’re now into June, but what can I say, shit continued to hit the fan in May. On the bright side, Bentley went in for a 3-4 week checkup after his diagnosis, and he was sedated again for the blood work and joint taps. No inflammation in the joints and his WBC count went down from 50k to the high end of normal which I believe is around 20k. As a result, the vet tapered his steroid treatment. Those meds man, they make him so fricking ravenous and thirsty. One day, I was out for 5 hours– I came home and my office carpet was drenched. Poor baby. Thankfully, it was nearly all water and no urine. That’s how much he’s been drinking. Now I just open up the doggie door– John set up our garbage bins on the side of the house, to keep Bentley from harassing the mail people at the front door. I know, totally ghetto but what can we do.

So anyway, we’ve been on the tapered dose of prednisone now for almost three weeks. He still doesn’t run and patrol like he used to. I feel like the disease has aged him– Bentley walks like a lumbering old lion and our walks are pretty brief– only about 20 minutes. Also, the myositis caused muscle atrophy in his skull, so his face is leaner and sunken in. It makes me so sad, bc he had the most beautiful, full and smiling face. I was paranoid that maybe we were missing something else, like another disease or condition, but the doctor assured me that the pockets in his skull are purely cosmetic. And I mean, most importantly, the auto-immune disease is under control and he is not in pain.

Every day I palpate his body all over while I groom him. I’ve also been using the LED light therapy (aka low-level light therapy and photobiomodulation therapy). My friends all think it’s California kooky, but I read a few scientific papers about it and supposedly, the light stimulates the cells for muscle repair. The treatment is typically used for muscle and joint pain. He doesn’t really like it, bc Ben Ben tends to run hot, but he eventually gives in to his tiger mom. In the end, I think it’s helping him, so we’ll have to see.

In other news, my listing imploded. Long story short, the owner did not know there were deed restrictions tied to the home. In other words, she has to seek permission to sell it bc she acquired the home more than three decades ago as part of an affordable/subsidized housing program. Yup, that means, the transaction is going to be canceled. A bunch of other complications are tied to this whole thing, so I’ll just say, it’s a project.

Meanwhile, J’s mom has declined considerably. He is there now, with all her kids. I’ve reached out to a bunch of dog sitters today and no luck again. Hoping the one remaining sitter who hasn’t yet replied will be able to care for Bentley on short notice. I dunno, 2019 is turning out to be a major shit storm.

Not an Order Taker

Life is a funny journey. I think about all the people I have met, those with whom I have connected, formed bonds, stayed in touch… Some of them, I hold connections that, despite the distance and silence, the spark reignites quickly and easily. Others, the initial overlap and commonality felt so damn certain, so unquestionable, and yet life choices and paths happened later that seemed to deteriorate the bond almost overnight.

From the time I was in my early 20s, I knew with great certainty that I wouldn’t be having children. While I had helped my grandmother babysit a family friend’s infant during my middle school years and I fairly enjoyed the cuddly blob stage, by the time I had reached college, I felt pretty strongly about being kid free.

I’m sure the struggles of growing up with my immigrant parents– with their strict demands and constant comparisons and cultural clashes– created a home life that, while safe and secure, felt deeply rife with emotional chaos and daily drama. In my young adult life, the responsibilities to serve as a secondary parent to my brother– being at the same university and all– made me especially hate the constant nagging, harping, and mercenary feel of serving as my parents’ proxy.

The thing is, I am a responsible and trustworthy person. After all, 13/15 tests say I am ESTJ = Trustee. So I get why my parents rely on me for important matters. But the thing is, I’m also a very independent and self-directed person, so while I am dependable, I don’t like to take direction from others, especially if their approach or methodology differs from my own. In other words, I’m not a fucking secretary. I am ok with you telling me, “Here is Point A. Here is Point B.” That’s all. And herein lies the problem. I get called on to do things in manners/ways that I wouldn’t normally choose. If what you want is an order taker, I’m not the person!

So as we start encountering aging, illness, and death around us, I struggle with being selected as the dutiful one. Like the scenario with my parents and my brother. Surely, I will be tasked with being in a very uncomfortable role of honoring my parents’ wishes. Will that clash with my own prudence? Maybe our thoughts/attitudes with be in sync? Um, well that has nearly never happened in my adult life. I doubt things will be that simple.

I suppose my point is, some days, I feel tremendous burden with being a responsible and trustworthy person. Is it comparable to what I consider the burden to being a parent? That’s partly why I chose not to be one.

Or maybe I’m looking at things all wrong. But take my brother, for example. He does whatever the hell he wants. He is responsible for no one but himself. His choices are made based on himself alone. Sure, maybe he lives a lonely existence without a spouse or partner. But shit, he doesn’t have to research, plan, compromise, discuss, weigh, negotiate, persuade… he doesn’t have to do any of that. He’s just. Free. Am I oversimplifying? And I don’t mean to say that Bubbey is a burden. Bubbey is probably one of my easier relationships at this point in my life. But still, he is a person I still consider when making important decisions…

Maybe responsibility is like that of having a dog. There is responsibility but the relationship is worth it. The unconditional love is worth the obligations and the pain. Does that translate to people? Like when the shit really hits the fan, who’s part of the triage team? I mean, the bottom line is that sickness, aging, and death are scary aspects of life. If you can’t rely on your loved ones to help you during those times, what’s the point?

So how did this blog post come to my mind? I was thinking about my friends with kids. What do you do if you don’t like kids? I mean, I like my friends, but I didn’t sign up for their kids. Every now and then, sure, let’s see them. I don’t despise the kids. But it’s the same dilemma I encountered years ago with a friend married to a guy who irked my nerves. I signed up for the friend, not the two-for-one. Sometimes, I try to reverse the scenario. What if a good friend wanted to hang out and she asked that John stay home. Yeah, it would probably bug me. But at the same time, I feel like one outing without him is not gonna kill me. I like that we have a bit of independence too. I dunno. I suppose we all have limited time and in the end, it’s about how we choose to spend our time. Ultimately, it’s about priorities. For some relationships, they simply don’t weather extended distance and silence. When I feel frustrated by the distraction a child creates when I’m trying to connect with my friend, I’m told to get used to it. Or to prepare to not see the friend for the next 7-10 years, bc hello, welcome to parenting. Well I suppose we all make our choices.

Year of the Pig

Well it’s been ages since I wrote a post– I’m starting anew now following the lunar calendar just as the Year of the Pig is getting underway.

A lot has happened. Where to begin. Let’s see. Bentley has really turned a corner. We adopted him back in January 2018, so at the start of 2019, he was coming due on several of his vaccinations. Given his track record of going ballistic in a veterinary setting, I decided to try the vaccination clinic option instead. Several of the area pet stores offer vaccination days where vets come into the store and administer meds at discounted rates. I decided to go during a Sunday NFL playoff game (smaller crowds) and I also gave Bentley several Treatible brand hemp treats. The last time I was in Pet Food Express, the lady behind the counter recommended these pricey snacks. I was very skeptical, but she insisted that her dog was previously terrified and aggressive with the groomers, and after consuming these snacks, her pooch was a total angel. Yes, that’s some kind of drugs at work, right? Well, I was desperate, so I forked over the $20. What do you fucking know? I gave him three biscuits, headed over and left him in the car so I could scout out the store first. The line was not bad, but there were definitely several dogs in the store. I decided to take the chance. Sometimes, Bentley can get worked up on seeing other doggies, but other times, he can’t even be bothered. We entered the shop, and he walked around the store totally chill. Like, other dogs were barking and lunging towards him, getting all worked up, but Bentley just trotted calmly down the aisles. I’m telling you: game. changer.

When I checked in with the tech, I gave her the back story. She was totally unfazed. I mean, I know they are pros, but seriously, she was not the least bit worried. When it came our turn, we went behind the warehouse double doors and I suggested we have a female vet tend to him. Bentley did so well. As they got closer, I held him in a brace. He started to get nervous and began to growl but no muzzle and no thrashing and no barking like in the past. They gave two shots, and we were done. It was amazing, and I was so relieved. I hadn’t realized how much I had been procrastinating and dreading getting his vaccinations. But shit man, now I swear by those damn Treatibles.

Another month later, he was running out of his heartworm meds… I thought my vet would just renew the script. Nope, the vet office insisted that he come in for an exam. Ugh. Not again. Well, it had to be done, so I requested a female vet (Sadly, no more handsome Dr. C– he was Remy and Marty’s doctor) and did the Treatibles routine again. They also gave us the biggest exam room possible in case if his aggression was triggered claustrophobia. I know, how special needs are we?

They didn’t try for the butt thermometer, and all else went well. He let me fidget with his ear so they could look inside; I pulled back his lips to expose his pearly whites, and with me holding him in the front and John touching him in his hindquarters, the doctor was able to hop in there and test his joints and movement. A clean bill of health! Hurray. And he has actually trimmed down from 72 to 64 lbs. since we got him. Bc shepherds are super prone to hip dysplasia, I keep him really lean. But the vet said to just continue what we were doing, bc he looked really good and happy to her. Yay! She did also ask how much we were exercising him… We said just 2-3 20-min walks a day, and she said GSDs are highly active and highly intelligent: they need stimulation. So I guess that means we will walk him more. We kinda like him being a couch potato though.

Work-wise, business is busy. I was in Los Angeles last month for a realtor training. It was eye-opening and super helpful. More than anything, I have come to realize that I was giving weak signals. In other words, I wasn’t as feeling confident and that came across when I talked to people. So I need to focus more on the unspoken vibes and keep that mental toughness strong. Honestly, I wasted way too much time and energy on self-doubt. Seriously. I gotta think of it this way: Would I hire myself for something important? Well yes. Yes I would. Enough said.

Aside from the mental resilience, I am also doing many of the activities to continue building my skills and mastery. Every week, I’m previewing a ton of homes. I’m still making calls, writing notes, checking in. I’m still hosting open houses. I’m feeling stronger, learning tons, and noticing my growing confidence.

I also joined a membership women’s networking group. Yes, lots of lunches and meetups (with all the accompanying awkwardity…), but it’s good for me. I’ve actually met a bunch of new people I wouldn’t normally encounter. I’m already partnering with one to co-host an upcoming real estate and investing basics workshop in April. Yes, my brain is full of new initiatives and ideas for my biz. It’s overwhelming but also exciting. I’m feeling a new wave of motivation to get shit done.

What else. Family is well, the same. My parents are overwhelmed by busyness and not making important decisions for their future. My brother continues to proselytize his quack supplement shit. My aunt in Taiwan got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last month. Yeah, when it rains, it pours.

I am feeling frustrated by my parents’ inaction, indecision, and paralysis. I keep researching ideas and options that don’t get reviewed much less implemented. Yeah, I’m def a grab the bull by the horns kinda gal. Stagnation drives me nuts. But there is only so much I can do.

So I turn my attention to myself bc I’m the only thing I can control. On that front, I’ve put on weight. The pants are too fucking tight. I’m like busting off the damn buttons and hooks. The insomnia too is taking its toll… I’m feeling growing rage again inside when it comes to family matters. I’m hoping that picking back up on this blog will help me sort through the mental clutter and settle my mind a bit. We’ll see. I also ordered a set of resistence bands to start re-engaging my muscles. And I’m hoping to restart weekly rollerblading nights with my friend T. Time to step things up again…

Limited Time

I like to read advice columns. I used to read them religiously… well, mostly just Cary Tennis. Now, I only read them when I randomly come across them. In light of my recent topics about family and my aging parents, this piece resonated with me today.

Via the Washington Post‘s Carolyn Hax: learning the value of limited time.

Bah Humbug

The holidays are always a difficult time for me. For one, my family has never been very festive. It’s hard to explain with specificity, so I recently started telling people my parents are JW. They don’t celebrate anything. I mean, the truth is, they are just a clan of pessimists. Rather than celebrate all the good things that are going for us, my people like to obsess over every damn thing that’s wrong in our lives. It’s an awful habit, which I’m glad I’ve slowly broken since flying the coop and establishing life on my own.

But man, during the holiday season when I’m spending time with my family, all the old habits just come back. I was stunned the other day to learn that there is actually a term for this phenomenon of acting like a child again despite being a middle-aged woman: it’s called “regression” and it’s a coping mechanism. Say what???

For many of us, reuniting with loved ones during the holidays can feel like psychological time travel. There’s a reason why these visits trigger old memories and regressive behaviors.

Psychological defenses are like emotional armor, protecting us from feeling more profound pain and anxiety, which explains why overwhelming emotions like anger, fear, or sadness can cause us to fall back on less mature expressions of emotion like passive aggression and, yes, eye-rolling. No matter how far away from home we travel, most of us can’t escape our family history — and the memories that come with it. New conversations remind us of old ones, even if we’re no longer living under our parents’ roofs.

Sure, I like to think that at the ripe old age of 42, I’ve developed enough awareness and self-control to override the dysfunction, stress, and anxiety that crops up, but no. Regression happens. I feel validated by the simple labeling of these feelings.

Up until my late 30s, I had a very tumultuous relationship with my parents. The shortest explanation is that they are Chinese immigrant parents. I know, people think I just use that as an excuse for EVERYthing, but I’m telling you: among nearly ALL Chinese-Americans I have encountered who are around my age, this condition is real. The nagging. The expectations. The perfectionism. The insistence on doing things their way. The black/white right or wrong mentality. Tiger parenting, y’all. It’s not just some Oprah Book Club recommendation. It’s my life.

Miraculously, in recent years, our family engagements have calmed the fuck down. The secret? We learned to avoid certain topics. I suppose this practice is nothing profound: after all, people always say to avoid talking politics, religion, etc… right? Well, it took us decades to figure this out and after we adopted this unspoken rule, our gatherings thankfully became less volcanic.

Still, I’ve been estranged from my brother for about 15 years. I stopped understanding him a long time ago, and his troubled relationship with my parents only soured my relationship with them. It’s complicated, but basically, while they were parenting in a manner that I disagreed with, they were simultaneously asking me to serve as a surrogate parent to my brother. This whole convoluted arrangement ultimately let me to choose a child-free path… And eventually, he became a topic as toxic and inflammatory as politics. We stopped talking about him to preserve our own relationship.

The other day, my brother called. Once again, his conversation with my father turned sour. He was urging my father to divest himself of Johnson & Johnson, esp following the recent reports about known toxic components in their baby powder. My father is not one to be bullied. He disagreed on divesting and then the argument escalated from there. I heard the drama and stomped upstairs. Something similar had happened the last time I was home where the call deteriorated into accusations and chaos. Launching into protective mode, I grabbed the phone from my father and the venom just started spewing. For people (like Bubbey) who come from very non-confrontational families, witnessing this kind of interaction is horrifying. For me, I grew up on this shit. When I hit my 30s, I determined that this level of engagement was not good for my psyche or my heart, so I stopped communicating with my brother altogether. BUT the muscle memory remains, and I proceeded to go full blast like a fucking feral animal. He hung up on me. Not ready to call off the fight, I buzzed him back, ready to rip him a new one.

The weird thing is, somewhere in the chaos, he stopped to listen. I was heated and full of rage and yet somehow amidst the cussing, my words came across. Two things about me: when I feel hurt, I respond with anger. And that anger rises to a very extreme level of rage fast. Seriously. My temper goes 0-100 mph in seconds. It has always been this way.

I know I hit rage status on the call, bc my heart was pounding and I was physically shaking. And once I engage in some argument over who’s right or wrong, I do not back down. There is no one who gets angrier than I do. It shouldn’t be a point of pride, but I’m kinda bragging about it right now. What can I say, it’s probably my least redeeming quality: I fly off the handle faster than ANYone. But the main point is this: the conversation shifted and we actually talked. I shared that I have been thinking about him recently. Last month, I thought back to how we were as kids. What happened? Where did things go wrong? Why can’t we understand one another?

And I acknowledged that my parents are a pain in the ass. Partly, it’s the Chinese tiger parent thing. I’ve realized this in talking with Chinese-American peers: we share a lot of the same frustrations. So even though our parents can be annoying as fuck, some of it is cultural and not necessarily specific to them. For what that’s worth.

I also shared the insights I have learned from John, aka the world class EQ extraordinaire. For example, what’s your purpose in arguing about Johnson & Johnson with dad? Let’s say dad divests in the stock. Then what? Then are you happy and is your relationship better? And frankly, if the money is so dirty, why do you ask for it and use it? He admitted that he didn’t know why he got so worked up about J&J.

Here’s what I learned from my days at the political advocacy organization. I was in 20s at the time, living and working outside of DC. Every time I visited my parents, I brought up politics, specifically abortion laws, funding for women’s health, birth control access, etc. My dad was a practicing OB/GYN and I know he shared my views about women having control over their bodies. Yet, he always voted Republican– and Republicans are traditionally anti-abortion. I couldn’t stand the hypocrisy and every single visit, we’d argue about it. It was as if I picked fights with him to convince him. But he wouldn’t be convinced and so we just went around in circles. Ultimately, I realized that look, in every industry, company, family, whatever, there are bad seeds. Bad shit is happening on all sides in one arena or the other. We are all hypocrites, bc hello, welcome to life and the world.

Also, we are all adults. We should be able to to disagree on many things. That doesn’t make one side good and one side bad. My parents are not bad people. I mean, I’m not gonna lie: Trump supporters do have me feeling like the good/bad designation applies in that case, but in general, the world isn’t black and white like that. On top of that, J and my friends have made me realize that life is short. Your parents are not political opponents. They are family. And time with them is running out. Do you want to just keep fighting over old issues, or do you want to spend what limited time remains creating new, happy memories?

I mean, holy crap. Maturity is some next level shit. I have often considered myself precocious and yet, I can point to so many pivotal moments where, despite my confidence and self-righteousness at the time, I really was quite wrong and short-sighted:

Moment 1. Marital counseling: Many years ago, J and I were recounting to the counselor a recent fight we’d had. Our accounts of what happened and who said what differed greatly. We accused each other of lying and of not having the facts straight. After much back and forth, the therapist interrupted and said: People can share the same experience and have different perceptions of what happened. Both sides are correct bc they are sharing their own read/interpretation of what went down. Regardless, marriage isn’t about who’s right and who’s wrong. You may each have different perceptions of what actually happened. It’s doesn’t matter who’s story is more accurate. You’re on the same team. How do you want to move forward? Well, shit. Yeah, we were getting tangled in the weeds.

Moment 2. Two years ago, I came home to Maryland and started cleaning out my parents’ house bc seeing all their stuff cluttering the house stressed me out. Their lack of preparation re: downsizing gave me anxiety, so I started throwing shit out, posting stuff on freecycle, having strangers come to get things out of the garage. I did this all without even really asking them what they wanted to do with their stuff. I just went into Type A mode and aimed to get shit done. Well, after a few days, things came to a head, and we had a huge blowout. That was when J sat me down and said: how do you want to spend your remaining time with them? Do you want to keep arguing over what things to clear out, or do you want to create good memories? When they move away, you will likely have complete autonomy to clear shit out the way you want. But while they are living here, respect their space and focus on other things. Well, shit. Touche.

In talking with my brother, I acknowledged: our parents did some fucked up things. They didn’t always make the best choices. But we all make mistakes, bc at the end of the day, no one really knows what the hell s/he’s doing. We’re all just trying our best. Whatever mistakes were made, they were not done with malice. There was good intentions behind it. Their execution was just misguided. Let’s try to create good memories from here on out…

Afterwards, my brother admitted that he didn’t know why he was picking fights with my dad. He didn’t know why it was so important to him that dad divest from Johnson & Johnson. After we finished talking, he spoke to my mom and dad. And how did my father react to the apology? Ok, you just learn to manage yourself. Go spend the time to think about it on your own.

See? That’s what’s so annoying about my dad. His response is essentially: Ok, you were wrong. Yes, I accept your apology. Now go work on yourself and fix yourself.

There’s no acknowledgement that his parental expectations and demands are ridiculous. That he has made mistakes as a parent. After he got off the phone with my brother, dad says to me: he needs to have a goal.

Huh? What are you talking about: my brother got a full ride to Duke. He kept his scholarship and graduated. He earned a graduate degree in teaching from Columbia. He now works a decent, respectable job teaching at the university. The students love him and the administration wants to keep him on staff. He told me he stopped participating in the religious group. Where’s the fucking acknowledgement for all those “goals” that were achieved? Nothing. Dad says he’s still taking those deer placenta tablets and doing regular colonics. I mean, yeah, step by step, one thing at a time, ok?

According to perfectionist dad, Johnny still has no goals. So finally, I’m like, what are these “goals” he should have?

Dad’s reply: You have kids to finish the goals you don’t get done.

Yeah, dad. Those are YOUR goals. Not his goals. And so now we’re back to that bullshit. It really pisses me off. Like I have said before: It’s NEVER fucking enough.

I alluded to the mistakes he and mom made as parents. And he was all surprised like, what did we do wrong? Um hello: the expectations, the perfectionism, this idea that what we do/achieve is NEVER enough, never quite right. We don’t receive acknowledgment unless all “goals” are met at the same time. The fact that your life is ruined, bc you don’t have grandchildren. And why must grandchildren be the representation of hope for the future?

Hello, I’m not even dead yet. I still have things I’m going to do. But clearly, you’ve given up on both of your kids achieving the goals you’ve set for them. And the message is that your kids are failures, but grandchildren will offer you another chance to save the day. Am I overreacting here?

Well, hey, here’s some food for thought: We may be disappointments to you, but you’re also a disappointment to us. And by the way, throwing money at someone or something is NOT the same as truly believing in them and supporting them and loving them. Again, where is the conversation of: Let’s all try to do better. How can I help our relationship grow? It’s pretty much. Yeah, I’m right, you’re wrong. I accept your apology. Now, go take time to fix yourself.

I’m telling you: this is why I don’t have kids.

On one hand, my parents are old. Can they be expected to further develop their emotional skills to the point of really being able to offer support? Is it fair or even reasonable to expect that level of support? Second, my dad’s dad is still alive, and he’s still always bitching about not having a legacy. Look dude, give it up. You’re not royalty. Also, maybe you don’t deserve to have the family line continue on…

I told my dad today that part of the reason why Johnny and I hate(d) going back to Taiwan is bc we always get harassed for all the things we’re not doing right. There could be a bunch of things we have going on that’s good, and yet the first thing out of grandpa’s mouth is complaints about me not having kids and Johnny not being married. Leave us the hell alone!

John pointed out to me today: the good thing is, your parents have learned to avoid talking about contentious topics, but that doesn’t mean they will change their values. Their values are the same. So this legacy idea will always bother them.

True. But that’s on them. Learn the Circle of Control. You can’t control what others do or say or think.

Doing our best

Well, surprise, surprise. Every time I go back to Maryland, I fall into an abyss of overthinking and paralysis. Invariably, at some point during my visit, my brother calls to do three things: feign concern for my parents, proselytize the merits of his quack science and quack religion, and ask for more money. Mind you, homeboy lives in one of the most expensive cities in Asia rent- and utilities- free, and he STILL can’t manage his fucking budget. My brother is just so damn off kilter that I can’t help but cull through our entire history to figure out what the hell went wrong and where.

It’s so weird bc you know all those studies about child development and how people say character/personality is some combination of genetics and environment? Man, with so many friends and acquaintances now with kids, I hear so many thoughts on parenting styles and tactics and in creating the right environment for kids. Honestly, it only reaffirms my own child-free stance: the juice just ain’t worth the squeeze!

A few years ago, I remember one coworker was on like her third year waking up in the middle of the night for her crying child. When I mentioned the Ferber method (where you train the child to cry it out and self soothe), she was convinced that the technique would create trust issues and irreparable psychological damage. Really? Something as basic as letting them cry it out?

Thinking about my own parents, their methods were definitely stress inducing. I mean, dad had a temper, he was impatient, and they were both obsessed with school and achievement. When my brother couldn’t solve a homework problem and he didn’t get it after dad tried to explain a few times, dad would lose his shit and call my brother “stupid.” All while growing up, we were constantly compared to their friends’ kids. I suppose the intention was to motivate us to step up but…

And whenever people praised us, my love-withholding parents would tell us people were just sweet-talking us and pulling our chains. We weren’t really that good, they’d insist. I’m telling you, it was exhausting trying to meet their high standards while also dealing with their moving goal posts. During our entire academic careers, they just harped and harped. When my brother struggled with his grades at Duke, my dad would just keep freaking out: “You can’t lose your scholarship; otherwise, what will people think?” Um, I mean, my brother was one of ten students in the entire class of 1,300 people who was awarded the merit scholarship. If he were to lose it, he’d be like the rest of the students at the #4 college in the country. I mean, how about “What can we do to help you feel more motivated and focused? Don’t worry: just try your best. We still love you.” Goddamn. I feel so anxious just recalling those memories.

My senior year in college, I wanted to get out to the work force and join an environmental engineering firm. The thought of me not going straight into grad school was so unacceptable to my father that he cut off communication with me. Jesus Christ. My mom talked to me and tried to be more encouraging: “He just thinks you have so much potential. He doesn’t want you to waste it.” Yup bc if I just join the work force, I’m all washed up. Wtf.

In the end, I conceded and applied to grad school to have the possible option. Of course, that only meant I had to start the program right away after my acceptance and graduation. After two years working in the solid waste lab and out in the field, I was exhausted and then immediately, I had to get a job and keep going. And then all this crap about why wasn’t I going to get a PhD? A master’s degree is nothing. Everyone has a master’s degree these days. Nevermind that I just graduated from the top landfill research program and managed to get my tuition paid for. Nevermind that I scored a decent job right out. As it turned out, after two years in the real world, solid waste engineering wasn’t what I had thought it would be. Honestly, had I been allowed to work right after undergrad, I would have discovered this and not suffered through two years of grad school. Of course all of this is water under the bridge, but goddamn, my parents just pushed and pushed and pushed. And everything was so all or nothing. Either we excelled or we were failures. There was nothing in between.

And on this last trip home for dad’s surgery, he twice mentioned the importance of AI for the future. Maybe I can learn that field– it’ll be so relevant going forward. Yeah, while I’m trying to build my real estate business and live my life with all this dysfunction and baggage, let me learn another career!! Even mom suggested that I go back to school to study AI. The fucking buzzword of the year, I tell you. I mean, whatever though. Parents make mistakes. It’s not like Bubbey grew up in the most encouraging or supportive environment either. He’s not all messed up like my brother and I are. But sheesh, when dad makes those comments, I just think to myself: You know what? Dad, why don’t you learn to use your computer. Like print shit, email me an attachment, and send me a picture from your phone. Maybe learn how to text message. And mom, why don’t you try to create a new habit. You know what I mean?

I sometimes think about my college roommate. She’s a physician, and her brother stocks shelves at Staples. For years, she and her parents tried to encourage her brother with his academics but in the end, they realized, not every kid is going to go to a top ten school and become a doctor. And they let it go and let him be. And they have a decent relationship with him. Their parent-child relationship isn’t defined by his achievements. Whoa, what a concept!

These days though I just bite my tongue. It’s fucking hard as hell for me, but I just resist losing my shit with my parents. John keeps reminding me that aging rots their brains. Still though. How are other people parenting and doing this? I mean seriously, how the hell do people know what to do and how to respond?

On Thanksgiving morning, I awoke full of anxiety. The first thought that popped into my head was memories of my brother and me riding our bikes through our old neighborhood. If I go back far enough, we shared good times together as kids. But now, here we are… we could not be at greater odds.

I feel sad and sorry for the times when I was such a mean little sister. I would snoop around in his shit and then threaten to destroy his comic books or artwork later when we were fighting about something. Where did I learn to hold things hostage like that?

I know it wasn’t easy being the firstborn of the firstborn. My brother was only 6 or 7, and he was very artistic early on. Dad would come home and find him drawing intricate pictures and then flip the hell out. Bc why was he spending all his time and energy on “useless” stuff? Art has no practical value. You can’t have a career in art. Again, we were only six or seven years old. I know that as kids, we could never fathom the difficulty and stress of being an immigrant in a new country with no support, no friends, and a family back home in tremendous debt. But shit, we were just innocent kids trying to do happy things. Our souls were crushed repeatedly with criticisms and expectations to do more and do better.

So many times, I remember people complimenting my brother or me for something. Rather than allow us to bask in the glow, dad would just tell us not to believe those people and their lies. I would argue back: they’re not lying. If they have nothing nice to say, they’ll just stay quiet. There’s no reason for them to lie. He said we were being naive. Whatever. I dunno why he behaved like that. But like I said before, my parents were love withholders. Maybe they never wanted it to get to our heads. Maybe they were secretly competitive and didn’t want us to be better than them. Who the hell knows. Chinese parents, SMH.

It’s all moot now and yet I still cry thinking about it. My brother used to be a very sweet and loving child. Somewhere his spirit got broken. Or maybe he was always destined for this path. I don’t know, but I still mourn the loss. How did it all come to this…

Interestingly, I had a recent revelation. My dad’s family idolizes him. I’ve always noticed that pretty much everything dad says or does is deemed right and perfect. No one ever criticizes him. No one ever questions his judgement. Already, his personality is very decisive and self righteous. He’s always been confident and clear with his compass. But that doesn’t mean he’s infallible. Yet his people never call him out on any flaws and mistakes.

Was it always like this or just in his adulthood? It’s a very weird culture. For someone who is always so picky and so critical, he only receives encouragement and support from his parents and siblings. Isn’t that interesting? Dad was telling me one time how he bumped into an underclassman from medical school, and the guy just kept going on and on singing my father praises, telling him how much he looked up to him when they were in school together. Hmm that’s interesting. Anytime someone else receives that level of praise, you tell them people are just being polite showering them with exaggerated compliments. But when you’re the recipient, suddenly the people are so genuine and sincere.

I have different expectations now for all of us. I’m currently the age my parents were when they were trying to navigate all of this career and parenting shit. My parents now are elderly. Their capacities have slowed and weakened. And my 43-y/o brother continues to act like a goddamn entitled asshole.

He doesn’t love them and he has his reasons. That’s fine. So then why not just leave my parents the hell alone. Why bother calling to trash talk western medicine, tout the deer placenta pills, colonics, and keto diets, and then ask for money? Why? Just go live your life with free housing!

I started writing my brother a letter while I was in Maryland, but it just meandered. I haven’t really known my brother for many many years. And on top of that, he is brainwashed. Is there any point in trying to get him out of the cult? Is it worth a try? I will say, my drafts always start off calmly with slight feelings of nostalgia and sadness, but then somewhere they take a dramatic turn and I lose my shit all over again. My friend N pointed out the last time I saw her that I convert my pain into anger. And it’s so true. When you hurt me, I get totally pissed off. Which makes me think: Maybe I just don’t have the constitution to take this on. I mean, my brother is 43 y/o. Between dealing with my business (which is a people business) and my parents and my relatives, this is still an uphill battle. Can anything good come out of this letter or any letter?

Needless to say, I got zero rest while in Maryland. Not only was I mentally weighed down by this bullshit, my parents didn’t even have decent sheets for my bed. And they used to have high quality sheets and comforters! Where did all the nice stuff go??? I have no idea, but seriously, it’s all cheap, scratchy scraps now. Like random fabrics that don’t even fit western mattresses. Omfg. I was so annoyed. I’ve already ordered my own flannel sheets and duvet cover for next month when I’ll be back there again for the other eye surgery and for Christmas. God help me.

Anyway, I know in the grand scheme of things, my parents were good parents with good intentions. Without question, they really worked hard to provide us with so many resources and opportunities. The past is painful, but we have no choice but to look ahead.

I have a friend: his parents are staunch Trump supporters. I remember when I was working in the early 2000s at the political advocacy organization outside DC, I could not stand that my parents voted Republican and every chance I had, I would jump down their throats about it. Now that I’m older, I’ve become less insistent about my parents aligning with my politics. Still, I was curious how my friend handled his relationship with his extreme parents. “Were your parents good parents?” I asked. After a brief pause, he said, “They did the best they could with what they knew and with what they had.” At first, I thought this was some bullshit PC/diplomatic response. But later, I came to realize that this is the way to move forward. What’s the point in holding grudges and having resentment? They did the best they could, just as I did the best I could. In all candidness, we disappointed each other. So I try very hard to hang less on their past mistakes and misaligned words (like the AI thing) and just focus on my own mindset. Whatever factors may have contributed to shaping my brother into the person he is today, none of those incidents can be reversed or retracted. In life, sometimes there are no second chances. Regardless, we continue forward doing our best with what we know and what we have.

Back to the Charging Station

Despite my feelings of fatigue in late September, I continued to plug away for work: more open houses, more new approaches. I enjoy the challenge of figuring out ways to build my business. Sure, it’s frustrating and slow-going, but I enjoy having the autonomy and control over my work. I’m still working on cracking the open house code… you’d think after 58 different homes, I’d be a pro by now, but I’m still learning and still working hard to tweak interactions here and there to better connect with the personalities that come through. Of course, my flow got disrupted again with my trip to Taiwan… And to keep me even more on my toes, my dog sitter called the DAY BEFORE our trip to cancel our booking. Family emergency. Yup, pretty dang stressful scrambling around for Bentley care with less than 24 hours. Miraculously, we got it handled and he’s been in good hands. I’m telling you though: that dog care shit is nearly impossible. Sitters cancel or if you find a good one, she’s not available when you need her: At any given time, I have to have a roster of like five different options. SMH.

And then Taiwan. I mean, what can I say. It’s always an exhausting time… even without the drama of the past. This trip? Nine nights. Eight different beds. Thankfully, only one bedfellow. 🙂 Every year, I try to think of ways to make this trip easier, and I dunno: we have yet to crack the puzzle. Of course, it doesn’t help that the flight is a total beotch: 13 hours out, 11 hours back. Once we arrive in Taipei, it’s still not over: immigration takes time, then metro, then high speed train. It’s another three hours AFTER the flight to get to my parents’ house. Then we pretty much live out of a suitcase for the entire time. One night at my parents’ house. The next night at my grandparents’ house. They are all older and slower now but still kicking and doing well. Then, we went on the road trip (5 hours in a very comfy private shuttle to the north part of the island), so two nights at two different hotels. After that, a night at my grandparents’ again. Then my mother had her heart condition situation, which required the night before at my aunt’s house followed by two nights at the hospital accompanying my mom. The medical system in Taiwan, while modern, remains very inefficient. My mother was feeling heart/chest pains, so she went in for a procedure to inject a dye and see what was happening with her heart. In the US, this is a same-day procedure, but in Taiwan, they needed to admit her the night before. Then, she had the procedure on Tuesday morning. Thankfully, the conclusion was not a stent. She should have been discharged later that day, but they wanted to keep her another night. The good news is that she had a private room with a futon and a sofa, so John and I had some space. Overnight, the hospital was also very quiet (unlike the one my grandfather was in when he fell a few years ago in Maryland). But the doctor was pretty laconic and curt. Whatever though. Hopefully, the medicine will help her feel better. After she got discharged on Wednesday, John and I took the train north towards Taipei. Rather than rush from the south of the island to the airport the morning of our flight, we just decided to book a hotel by the airport and spend the last night there. As it turned out, the airport was mobbed with Chinese tour groups and getting to the gate took longer than we had anticipated, so it was a good call to get that hotel for the night before. In the future, I think we will book the same hotel for the first night after we fly in. It’s just too much to make the long trip after an already very long flight..

Reflections on Parenting

This one’s a long one… written on my flight back, so brace yourself.

I have to say, for someone who is childfree, I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about parenting and child-rearing. Oddly enough, there is some explanation for this. You see, from a very young age, I’ve struggled with lots of familial strife. Not the usual tiff or disagreement here and there. Rather, full-on, war time, volcanic eruption familial fighting. The constant sparring can probably be attributed to a number of things: my parents being immigrants (I know, I’m a broken record, but this factor cannot be overstated!), my father having a strong, dominant personality, and me having a strong, dominant, judgey, defiant personality.

In my childhood, I observed favoritism from a very young age. This is probably nothing unusual… in fact, I would expect it to be a common thing for families with multiple kids. In my case, my mother and grandmother always coddled my brother. After all, the Chinese phrase “Little Emperor” didn’t just come out of thin air. Their obsession with him extended into adolescence and adulthood with them cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry pretty much on demand at any and all hours of the day. When he moved to Taiwan in his 30s, my aunts continued this ridiculous babying– staying up late, waiting for him to come home so they could cook him hot meals.

Admittedly, I also benefited from this lifestyle as a kid: I never really had chores. My dad always explained that my job was to do well in school, and my family would handle all other things– cooking, cleaning, laundry, expenses, etc. But even at six years of age, I was already annoyed with the level of their involvement. I didn’t like having other people do things ALL THE DAMN TIME. If they helped me get dressed or cut up my food or did other things I was perfectly capable of doing, I would say, in a cocky, know-it-all kind of way, “I can do it myself!” By the time I was a preteen, I already felt suffocated by the Asian tiger parenting: I would say in Chinese, “Stop managing me. Leave me alone.” By the time I was 16 and definitely by the time I was 18, going away to live just could not come soon enough.

It wasn’t just the incessant coddling though. It was everything. The preachiness, the lessons, the constant comparisons to other kids and their achievements. I was fighting with my parents CONSTANTLY for years before finally fleeing the roost. Despite the security and stability they provided, I just couldn’t stand being told what to do all the damn time. Looking back, I suspect that more than anything, these tensions were cultural than generational in nature. Chinese parents, I tell you. They can be really insufferable.

I mean, all the fucking nagging from my parents PLUS my grandmother and then shitty parenting with my brother…. I probably didn’t know enough to put two and two together back then, but their parenting style towards me and my brother definitely irked the crap out of me.

My mother always thought my rage and frustration stemmed from me being jealous of the apparent favoritism of her and grandmother towards my brother but honestly, that shit only bugged me in the very beginning. Once I started feeling more independent, I didn’t want to deal with the constant coddling. And in retrospect, having a favorite child actually seems quite natural to me. As my friend M has said, “The heart wants what the heart wants.” I think this is true in romantic love as well as parental love. I mean, the concept of fairness is really just bullshit anyway. And not just with parenting but with anything in life. And I’ll even go a step further in saying that trying to instill a sense of fairness only serves to misguide people later on in life. Life isn’t fair so why should we insist that it be that way? I mean, I was born in the USA. Immediately, I have a different kind of freedom and privilege than my cousins born in Taiwan, right? Is that fair? Or, say one child has abusive parents/alcoholic parents. Where’s the fairness in that? It’s just a bullshit construct, really.

I understand that parents want to be equally good to their kids. They want to give them opportunities to grow and thrive and flourish, but does that mean they have to connect and love them equally? I don’t think so, and children should develop the fortitude to deal with the reality that people will treat you differently and you will treat others differently due to whatever subtle factors/preferences..

I came across an article recently, labeling various parenting approaches: helicopter, tiger, lawn mower, free-range… Sometimes it’s an interesting academic exercise to give these things some thought. Ultimately, I always come to the same conclusion: I’m so glad I’m not a parent, bc even though I am strongly opinionated about the subject, I can see how challenging it can be. There are just so many damn moving parts. I mean, cultural influences, societal influences, peer pressure, trends and norms… Then on top of that, what is your child’s personality? gender? birth order? etc. See? Too many damn factors.

Obviously, I have a shit ton of feedback on how my parents raised my brother and me. I’ve already written about it numerous times over the years. You’d think I’d be totally talked out about it after four long decades. Yet every time the topic of my family comes up, my friends and relatives make comments like, “I just can’t believe how different you and your brother are, coming from the same parents.” It’s true: Johnny and I ARE dramatically different in many ways. For example: I move fast; he moves slow. I like to take action; he likes to think deeply and proceed cautiously. I hate anything abstract or philosophical. He can spend days debating things for the sake of mental exercise… But really what complicates things is that he’s not someone who you can immediately accuse of being off his rocker. In fact, every time I hear him speak in person, I’m always struck by his intelligence and articulation of various topics. He’s always been extremely well-read and scholarly. When he talks about teaching at the university, the passion for his work and for his students is apparent. And most things he says related to these topics makes sense, so how can you not get on board with that?

And yet, he’s also so far-fetched in other regards. It’s a bit of a conundrum, to be honest. He sounds so normal and yet, he is so freaking off the wall. Like the whole religious cult thing… he continues to be a part of that bullshit scam. I mean, any program where there’s one dominant force (aka “the master”), I am immediately distrustful and turned off… Think David Koresh or Bagwan or whatever that new LA cult was where people at the top raped young girls. Any kind of funnel/pyramid setup like that is super sketch… Yet, he’s a part of that cult where he talks trustingly about his master like the dude is infallible and omniscient. It’s super annoying. And the hypocrisy just drives me up the wall. All this bogus talk about loving one another “bc we are all human”. Meanwhile, my brother is a total disrespectful ass to my parents.

This time in Taiwan, my dad took eight of us on a private shuttle tour in northern Taiwan. My mother was supposed to go but she caught a cold and had to bail the the day before. Anyway, my brother was of course invited to join. My aunts tried to contact and coordinate with him many days in advance. No one could get a hold of him bc he doesn’t answer calls and messages. So he shows up and every time there’s a meeting time for the group, he’s the last one to show. If we met for breakfast or a group walk to the beach, he slept in instead. Also. he’s currently on some ketogenic diet or whatever: all he can eat is eggs and cheese. No carbs. I mean, WTF is wrong with you? And his whole argument is that on this diet, he has way more energy and no more lethargy. He claims that giving in to cravings and immediate pleasures is not worth the toll on his health. Wow, how disciplined of you. Um, ok. Kudos to you for demonstrating such self control. I mean, I was vegetarian for 7-8 years. If you have some reason to change your diet, fine. Go ahead. But if you now supposedly have all this energy, why are you sleeping in and not participating with the rest of the group?

And then, the weather was super shitty– pouring rain and windy. We went to a bunch of landmarks and tourist spots up in the mountains where there were a lot of steps and we had to use umbrellas to shield us from the wind and rain. While my cousin was holding his father’s hand to help him up the incline, my aunt asked my brother to do the same and help my dad. My brother’s reply? “Everyone should walk their own path.” Is that the kind of compassion the Master teaches you? You do nothing except show up for the trip and then you don’t even engage or participate. Well, fuck you. We could all do without your hypocritical proclamations. And for the record, you aren’t doing us any favors by showering us with your presence. Ugh.

At the start of this trip, I vowed to be civil to my brother. I’m sure no one is surprised that I CANNOT STAND my brother. Even though I can acknowledge his special kind of intelligence, everything about his person irks the living shit out of me– the fact that he’s so easily swayed by con men, the insistence that what he believes/claims is legit or real, the selfishness, the lack of responsiveness, punctuality, responsibility… but my family always gives me crap about not being nicer to him, not being sisterly. They have some stupid idea or wish that somehow I will be able to serve as a positive influence who will help him change his ways. I know, their wishful thinking is so damn unrealistic..

“You only have one brother,” they always say. Yeah, well I wish I had none. I know this sounds heartless and crass, but it is what it is. Let’s stop playing charades. Sure, we had some good times as kids. But pretty much from college and onward, he’s been a self-centered, unhelpful, immature shithead. It might not be kosher for parents to admit regret for having kids, but I sure as hell feel regret for myself AND my family about my brother. He’s really quite useless, and I have argued with my family for an entire lifetime about him. Seriously, it should be no fucking surprise that I am childfree precisely bc of what I have witnessed regarding my brother. So many arguments and fights with my parents.

And in true Chinese fashion, there is always someone and something to blame. Yes, my parents put a lot of pressure on him. He is the eldest son of the eldest son. That comes with a lot of baggage. My dad also worked a lot and wasn’t around much. His job was super stressful and he had anger issues that at times, he displaced onto us. My parents enabled my brother by coddling him to the point that he never needed to be responsible for anything. It’s a gigantic mess and at some point, even if we identify all the culprits, what then? I dunno really. But that is the Chinese way. And that is my family’s way. In my later adult years, I’ve tried to let it go: sourcing the blame doesn’t change the end result.

Before this trip to Taiwan, I told John that every time I see my brother, I can’t help but feel anger towards my parents for this predicament. I mean, yes, he’s a working, white-collar, 40-something professional. He’s great at teaching. But he’s still a total moron. He cannot be relied on for anything. He just lives for himself and his cult cronies. And whenever my family complains about him not getting married or not having kids, I just get so fucking irritated. Hello, open your goddamn eyes! Just bc you want a legacy doesn’t mean some woman should suffer by marrying a man-child or a child should suffer by having a lame, unreliable, irresponsible father. You know? Why are you hoping for the demise of two other people just so you can claim an heir to the family line? Whatever, I’m getting heated about all this shit all over again.

The point is, ahead of this trip, I was lamenting to John about how I still feel so much rage towards my parents about what my brother has become. And now, mom has Alzhimer’s. So what’s the point in feeling anger about this? Zippy. I dunno. I’ve said this before: I’m a flawed person. My propensity for accountability means that I blame people and things, and then I just don’t let go.

I admitted to this: I just keep punishing my parents for their parenting mistakes. And John replied, “But you’re not just punishing them: you’re punishing everyone, including yourself. And for how long?” So I vowed this trip to be civil towards my brother. Just bite my tongue and don’t start any fights. For whom? I don’t even know. Maybe just for my parents to save face. So other people don’t have to see our family drama. I dunno. As John explains, as adults we do all sorts of things we don’t want to do. You behave bc that is what your parents want– for their two kids to get along. Fine.

I don’t think anyone had any high hopes for my intent to stay calm. As you know, I’m a radical honesty kind of person. It’s not my natural way to keep quiet and to be non-confrontational, esp over things that really get under my skin. But I am also a person of control. And I am an adult in my 40s now. So I got it done. With the help of Bubbey the buffer, of course. Thankfully, my brother didn’t get into his pro-Trump MAGA bullshit that he so often posts on social media. And in the end, even if my interactions with him were forced and insincere, I suppose my family appreciated that the road trip was free of blowups. That was the best I could do… that’s right: Service withOUT a smile… VG style.

Moving forward, I don’t have any expectations for my brother. He will continue to be a brain-washed, self-absorbed person. For example, I went to see my grandmother. I fly back to Taiwan every year to see my grandparents. About two sentences in, she asks if I have seen my brother. He lives in Taipei– a few hours away by train. She hasn’t seen him in a long while. Then, my mother caught a cold and wasn’t able to go no the road trip. Did he call to see how she was doing? Nope. Didn’t care one iota that she couldn’t make the trip. She was the whole reason he was even invited!

She was also recently diagnosed with a heart problem. She was slated for a procedure at the hospital this week. It required her to stay in the hospital for two days. Where was my brother? No where. Just doing his own damn thing: no call, nothing. Meanwhile, my cousins, aunts, extended family, all went to the hospital to see her. That’s what I’m talking about.

I admit, the Chinese def go overboard with their whole Confucian concept of filial piety. It’s a term you hear a ton in Chinese families– I’ve been hearing this since I was a very young child. In essence, it translates as love/respect for your parents and elders. And in the pratical sense, it means not talking back, not raising your voice, not losing your temper, being thoughtful and considerate and in service, including bringing your dad slippers after a long day of work (my cousin used to do this for her father and my aunt advised me to do the same— I never did). I mean, Confucius is a bit cray. He takes it to an extreme where the hierarchy is also very sexist, but it’s a very very strong cultural force. It explains too why there is so much pressure in my family to have my brother marry. By not continuing the family line, this is seen as a failure on my father’s part to his own father (my grandfather), so the pressure and disappointment is definitely Level 10.

Anyway, I don’t want to drone on and on, but I do feel like expectations is the bane to all Chinese families. By many measures, I am a failure to my parents. I never became a physician despite the privilege and opportunity provided by my family. I didn’t have kids. I talk back. I cuss. I lose my temper. I raise my voice. I don’t connect with my parents that often. The irony is that John, despite being white, so much more effectively embodies this Confucian concept of filial piety– not in the outdated sexist sense but certainly in the modern sense. He keeps his cool. He is patient, caring, and kind. He does what is right– not out of obligation, but out of genuine respect and love. What can I say: I am limited and I have my weaknesses. Thankfully, Bubbey shows me the way, guiding by example and love.

The Tooter

OMFG, my dad. In the last 24 hrs, I’ve spent about five hours on the phone. Every call is a fucking code red emergency. That’s the thing about dad: he’s a Get Things Done kind of person, which jives with my personality except that all his to-do items are Quadrant 1 priority: BOTH important and urgent. And they frequently involve me. Like I have to drop all my shit and tend to it immediately.

So yesterday, he calls me all frantic before my open house. He has to submit some stock paperwork and the required documents didn’t arrive in the mail after the exact 7-10 business days they told him. So he calls the company again and they say he can access the info online. Except that he doesn’t have an online account set up. Back and forth, they’re trying to guide him to set up an account, and it’s not working. I get called in. But since it’s financial shit, I have to have him on the phone while I do anything on the call. I used my iPhone to conference call with the rep while I was tunneling into his pc, but my cell signal at home kept dropping. I called SIX different times and spoke with six different reps before I realized it was my signal. Meanwhile, they are unable to call me back. I cannot get the same rep. Finally, I have to go outside to the front of my house with my laptop, phone, and iPad. I give up on the conference call and use the iPhone for the customer support dude and my iPad Facetime for my dad. And then I’m holding the two devices close to one another so it’s a conference call. Meanwhile, Bentley is in the yard barking at passerbys. I’m telling you, it was a fucking zoo. Yes, I know. There MUST be a better way. Long story short, I’m on the phone for 90 minutes. I tell the last guy that the account creation process is sending me in a loop. He doesn’t believe me, so I have to repeat the bullshit process again, a sixth time. Same error, like I told him. Oh, now you have to wait 24 hours to do it again and then it should work, he claims. All this just to create a fucking account, I tell you.

This morning, I get a call from dad to schedule me for 3pm to do the tech call. Yes, I know. I already have it in my calendar! Jesus Christ. I don’t need to be poked and prodded like my brother. Meanwhile, John’s flight from Shanghai got delayed five hours. Yup, he was on the tarmac for the whole time. First, it was thunderstorms in Shanghai. Then, some bullshit US-China political reprimand where all carriers were allowed to fly/take off before the US carriers. I go to the airport to get Bubbey around noon and then after I get home, it’s time for my tech support call. Incidentally, Dad’s important document arrived today in the mail, so he was already meeting with the notary. The emergency was averted but he still wanted to proceed and set up online access. What do you fucking know? The account works today. So he’s got everything and is good to go… but wait, there’s more.

His home security system is busted (it’s from the 1980s). If I have time, can I research home security systems for him. I mean, JFC (Jesus Fucking Christ), if I have time? Why even bother qualifying the request? It’s not like I have a choice. And don’t act like it’s Quadrant 4: not important and not urgent, bc before the freaking day ends, I know you’re going to hound me about it already. My solution this time is to do as little research as possible. Just get Comcast home security. Bundle that shit and be done.

Oh and also, while he has me on the phone, can I type of a cover letter to accompany the important paperwork. That’s the thing about dad. When they were visiting last month, I had called about the paperwork and what had to be submitted. They said just mail form XYZ + notary stamp. He kept asking the rep and me, do I need to write a cover letter to go with it? No. Just the form and supporting docs. No, that’s all you need. So what the fuck happens today?

“Oh, I hand wrote a cover letter to accompany the paperwork. Here’s a picture of the letter, can you type it up for me?” That’s the thing. He wants my help but I have to do things HIS way. If I tell him no, he just keeps pestering. It’s annoying as fuck.

So fine, it takes five minutes to type it up but then I tell him: we already went over this a bunch of times when you were here. The rep said nothing else was needed; I dunno why you insist on creating more work for no reason. Well I wanted them to also know that blah, blah, blah. There’s always some reason for the extraneous crap.

I mean, I’m sure this kind of confidence (err self-importance) is very common in entrepreneurs and leaders. They delegate things to others, so part of their job is to convey the importance of what’s being done, so people will willingly take it on, as if what you’re doing to help me is super important…

But I dunno. To me, it’s often needless tedium. Yeah, maybe it helps give a bit more context around the task but it’s superfluous. Sometimes, good enough is appropriate and sufficient.

I mean, he is grateful. He’s always been classy about expressing gratitude towards people who help him. But then with me, he launches into a spiel about how he used to be so self-sufficient when he was younger, and now he needs help. Um, you’ve kinda always needed a lot of my help… just sayin’.

Ugh. Ultimately, everything gets turned into a lesson on how to do things in life the right way. Like his whole, I’m very organized and from my childhood, I always do things very methodically and thoroughly. Yes, you do but you don’t have to remind me of this every damn time we talk on the phone. I know he lives by a very educational approach and philosophy (is it Confucian?), so I’m sure he’s just leading by example. But it can be damn repetitive and self-aggrandizing. Like when he talks about how hard he worked when he was in private practice and how much hustle he has even into his senior years and how he is burdened with so many responsibilities… it’s really hard for me to respond at all. I don’t feel empathy and I’m not about to encourage the Superman attitude. Even Bubbey is noticing now preachy the stories are. He now calls my father the Tooter. Yup, bc he likes to toot his own horn.

A Different Person

Well, two days after we returned from our Italian vacation, my parents descended on the Houseboat. About two months ago, dad had asked for me to book their next flight to Taiwan and at that time, I urged him to use SFO as a stop over. In other words, fly out to California, stay a week, and then fly direct to Asia. Or, stop over here on the way back. It breaks up the trip. Nope, didn’t want to do it. He wants to get there directly and “not waste time.”

I mean, every time he goes to Taiwan, he stays at least a month and a half. What’s another five to seven days added to the beginning or end? He says he prefers the route through Narita in Toyko instead of flying through SFO. Yeah, makes sense if you do the entire trip in one push, but if you split it out into two journeys: east coast to west coast and then west coast to Asia, it’s more tolerable. Whatever. I’m not going to argue with you about scheduling a brief stay (that is along the way) to visit your only daughter. Jesus fucking Christ. I mean, seriously. It makes NO sense unless he’s factoring in some cost factor. Like if he’s using points, a roundtrip from DC to Taipei costs the same amount as a roundtrip from SFO to Taipei. If you split it into two separate trips, you’re basically having to pay extra for the DC-SFO leg. He claims it’s a timing thing… he doesn’t want to bother us and just wants to get over to Asia as soon as possible. And anytime you comment that the flight to Asia is ridiculously long (about 24 hours door-to-door), he responds that he’s done it so much, it’s NBD. Yes, his response is yet another one of his “I’m a soldier who’s fought a thousand battles” kind of things.

John is starting to call him a Tooter, bc my dad likes to toot his own horn. Like anytime you ask if he got good sleep the night before, he says he’s always been a good sleeper. And he can function on just 4-5 hours of sleep. He did it his entire career. Blah, blah. Ok, whatever. Mind you, only like some ridiculously small percentage of the population can function and thrive on 4-5 hrs/night, but sure, you’re Superman. SMH. Anyway, when I was booking his flights, he asked me when might be a good time to visit. I said that I was really trying to hustle before my office anniversary in June bc any transactions I did from now until then, I would earn my full commission without having to pay out the office split. That split resets in June.

So then what does he do? He wants to come in early May bc that works better for his Taiwan trip, which seems arbitrarily selected anyway. OMFG. That’s what I mean: why ask if you’re going to completely disregard my response? I’ll just make it work.

So they came and overall, it was a good visit. We stayed locally and did a variety of activities: Stanford gardens, bocce ball, open houses, new construction, meals out, meals in the backyard, etc. Mostly though, if you get them a Chinese newspaper every morning and eat seafood meals here and there and have Chinese programming at night, they’re happy.

Mom is doing ok, but still declining cognitively. The weird thing is, she is an entirely different person now than the woman who raised me. She used to be so damn fearful and neurotic and naggy… now she’s easy going and holy crap, she lives in the present. We used to fight ALL THE DAMN TIME and my brother always came up as a point of contention. Now, there is no mention of him. I feel sad that she requires so much care and repetition, but at the same time, she just seems so much happier. She laughs a lot. I sometimes wonder how our relationship would have been different had she been this person while I was growing up.

As expected, my father is still involved in a gabillion things. He just won’t fucking let up and the caretaking responsibilities for my mother are visibly wearing on him. He basically never leaves her alone, and bc her short-term memory is so bad, he has to repeat things super frequently. And she gets confused easily, even with daily conversation. On the other hand, bc she’s so chill now, there’s no more bickering and fighting between them. Still, I can see that he’s lost a peer and a companion. I’m sure that handling so many important decisions alone is lonely, overwhelming, and burdensome.

As usual, John is amazing with my parents. Honestly, he is like the child they never had: smart, patient, successful and just so damn considerate and kind. He found a Chinese soap opera and started watching it with my mom (while I was working on my computer). He talked to my dad about healthcare and stocks and tech and stuff on CNBC. I feel so blessed for myself and my parents that Bubbey is such a caring and gentle soul. I bet my parents wonder where/how they went wrong to produce such asshole dickwad punks. Sigh.

We had some serious conversations on this trip too. I got a tiny bit more insight about their medical directives and the living trust. I mean, for someone as detail-oriented as my dad, he really shared some bare bones, vague shit but I’m working on getting it all spelled out. Goddamn, it reminds me of that potential seller I met months ago… every important document she had was physically printed and she just lugged them around with her. Nothing was digitized. SMH. Kinda similar but at least my dad has a computer and a cell phone that he actually keeps turned on.