me

dear world,

my mother is still alive. i still love her smile, her smell, her beautiful long hair. she is still physically here. but her body is deteriorating-so she believes. nothing i can do will change her mind. nothing i say convinces her otherwise, no possible remedies, invitations to yoga or maybe positive thoughts. anything to help alleviate the pain. anything because for her the pain is too intense and death has been awaiting her for as long as i can remember.

i have wanted to save her since i was 8. since my father locked her out of the apartment when she was so hurt by him that she almost left but returned at my request. i wanted to save her since then. since she was so sad that she couldn't wake up in the mornings to take me to school. i'd shake her legs but to no avail until she'd begrudgingly awaken and finally take me to school late and in time for detention.

when she tried to leave my father the first time i was 4 i can remember her begging my grandparents to take her in, she left with a black eye from my aunt for being disrespectful. i wanted to help heal her during her failed exodus, pained face and forced return.

regardless of my bitterness, i wanted to save her. make it better. i watched her tend to my dying grandparents. wanted to make it better. even when she blamed my grandmother's death on my unruliness. i accepted it. for decades. i reluctantly absorbed the guilt and apologized profusely.

i wanted to heal her memories of war and assaults from childhood, the u.s. war. i wanted to tend to her wounds from trauma.

but lately, she's gained more weight, and refuses to listen to anything. she never did hear me. she's recalling bad memories from morning to night-unable to sleep remembering. she is chased and chasing, over and over again. her pain is so obvious and can't stand hearing from me sometimes.

she'll text me sweet messages but refuse to talk to me. and though this is a long standing pattern, it has gotten so worse. and i can't do anything. i feel so helpless. and so lost, confused, sad. but i can't do anything.

today, i attempt to mourn the legacy of fruitless efforts met by my mom's discontent, habitual disdain and ingrained fear. immense sadness. i mourn the efforts and belief that i can do something. i can't. i can't call to console, she doesn't want to hear me and i don't have any more words. she tells bad memories over and over again, i try to hear but sometimes they are to hurt me as much as she is pained so i deflect, but i am losing the ability and interest in deflecting because most of the time, i lose. i hurt even way after.

funny that the word for mom is me in vietnamese. please forgive me, me. i couldn't do it. you asked me when i was a kid to take care of jenny when you'd die, you've been expecting death since i was a child because it hurt you so much-you suffered so much. i always promised that i would but i think i wanted to take care of you the most. and i can't do it. i'm sorry. i can't.

you went in for a test this week and i know that you're scared to hear the results. i asked you for them but you refused to hear them. you're so scared. you've been for so long. but i can't protect you. and i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.

i can't even protect myself. and i relieve myself, slowly, of that desire. i mourn that the desire because i never was capable in the first place.

as i apologized to ba ngoai for hurting her. i mean it this time. i'm sorry to you and me. but i have to let go.