What love is

I saw my parents last weekend for brunch. The occasion? To celebrate my cousin getting married. As always, my parents close the conversation by asking me to come home and call them often (don't you have free minutes after 9PM?)

Frankly, I left the event miffed at my parents. They were asking me about the same old questions regarding my bf and I. Perhaps the questions were partly triggered by my cousin's joyous event (as the happy couple have met and wed in under a year, and my bf and I have been together for many more years than that).

Then, my parents called me today just to chat. During the call, I found out that my mom is undergoing a mini-surgery. Apparently, she found a lump in April near her Idaho and is getting it removed. Then, the trusted MDs will do a biopsy on the sucker to see if its malignant or not. The punchline? I am not to pass this info on to my sisters "to not worry them".

Right.

Our family is quite awkward when it comes to sharing info. I am too, to some extent for certain topics... the same goes for asking for help. I seem to go for the "my circle of one" technique. I share the info with one person... and that's about it.

This conversation left me worried and unsettled... and feeling like an a$ as an usual. I shouldn't be annoyed with their age old questions...that's just their way of showing that they care... and I should just suck it up and be a grown up about it...

sigh.

For the longest time, i was quite rebellious... didn't want to get an MBA or married even because that's what my parents wanted... I questioned their motive (was it for me or to make themselves look good?) But now, I am changing my perspective... maybe I should hit the books or get hitched... what's the harm?

What I really got to do is to stop the teenager in me from acting out when I am with my parents. After all, I ain't a teenager anymore... and the churlish behavior doesn't get me anywhere... except heartburn, I think.

So I am heading home... to see my folksies... my dad with his chicken arms (which I believe are skinner than mine) and my mom who is more concerned for my skin than me.

Remember that Velveteen Rabbit book on love between a mom and a child? That's what I am reminded of time and time again...