A Letter to My Mother

Some time ago, my mother slept in my room and talked to me about my childhood. She said, ‘You were really terrible when you were a child. No one in the family can control you. I’m dying every three or five days.’ When you were a child, your mouth was quite good. Adults in the neighborhood liked you very much. The one called by your uncle, aunt, grandfather and grandmother who passed through our family, whether you knew them or not, was a kind one. It’s just that you don’t call any of these relatives at home. Anyway, you can say that you’re a stranger and nobody calls. The more you don’t know, the more energetic you call it.’ So I am writting this essay to address to my mother.

I think I was bad when I was young, maybe not really bad. I felt insecure when I was young. When I wasn’t born, family planning checks were very strict. Many families wanted to have more births but had to guard against family planning checks. So many of them spent money to foster their children in other families. I was one of them. I was sent to their friend’s parents’ home for foster care shortly after I was born. When I grew up, I knew that I was sent to my friend’s parents’ home as if I was only a month or two old. I was fostered there for about two years and then my parents took me back to my home. It is reasonable to say that two or three years old should not have any memory, nor understand anything, but I am the exception. Although returning to their homes, we still go to the countryside to take my grandparents’ home to send New Year’s greetings. I also have a brother, when I was young, I often had trouble with my brother. Every time he cried, he opened the door of the room and cried in the direction of his mother outside. My mother beat me and scolded me without asking why. I thought that my mother didn’t like me. She hated me. They only liked my brother. Later, when I grew up, I gradually remembered when I was about six or seven years old. I began not to call my parents, not all the relatives in the family. I didn’t like to stay in that home, and I didn’t like to talk. I started to run away from home for more than one hour to go to my grandparents’ house in the countryside. I don’t know how that person knew the way to my grandparents’ house. I like to stay at my grandparents’ house. I will call them at my grandparents’ house. In that place, I am like a wild horse without rein. I will do whatever I want, sir. Grandpa and grandma and their sons and daughters-in-law are very kind to me. When I watch TV, I like watching TV. When I want to eat snacks, my grandpa takes me to buy them. Grandpa and grandma will basically satisfy me with everything. Every holiday and summer and winter vacation, I would go to my grandparents’ house for a period of time. Grandpa made two bags and sticks for me to drop frogs. In summer, the sun was shining outside, and I often went out to drop frogs for a whole day. I left home without telling my parents that I had left. Later, I heard that they were looking for me everywhere. Later, I went to my grandparents’ house to pick me up. If I don’t talk to them at home, I don’t call my parents. My parents should be sad, too. Mother takes us more often. Grandma often tells me, ‘My children, my parents have to cry. You don’t make them sad. Your father really likes you very much from an early age. Your father likes you more than your brother does.’ You can’t either call your parents.’ I don’t think so. I admit that Dad has a good temper in all aspects. He hasn’t beaten me or scolded me since childhood. My defense against them was so deep in my heart that I separated them from each other far away. Later, I often left home every three or five times, each time in the same place: Grandpa and Grandma’s home. Slowly my mother got used to knowing where I would run when I left home. Sometimes she would let me stay there for a few days and pick me up. Sometimes when I left, they would come and find me and pick me up. I was particularly afraid of my mother. Even when I saw her eyes glancing at me, I thought it was a warning. Her tone was too heavy, and I thought it was going to hit me.

To tell you the truth, I rarely sleep in bed with my mother to talk face to face like this. It can be said that there was hardly any chat before. Maybe there was a little hesitation in my heart. I didn’t look at my mother. I lay flat on my bed and looked at the ceiling and said, ‘When I was a kid, I thought you were really terrible. I beat me and scolded me every now and then, which made me scared to death when I was a kid.’ After listening, she laughed and asked, ‘What about now?’ I said, ‘Now I know that when I was a kid, it wasn’t you who was bad, it was me who was too bad.’

I remember when I was in junior high school, I once wanted to stay at my grandparents’ house for a period of time. My mother refused to let me go to my house for another period of time. At that time, I was very upset and in a bad mood. My mother saw it, and she agreed to let an uncle ride a motorcycle to send me. When I returned to my room, I wrote a letter to my family for the first time in my life. It was very long. I can’t remember what was written in the letter at that time. I only remember that it probably said why I liked to go to my grandparents’ house, and why I was one of them. The next time I left home, I wanted to say something to my mother. Until now I am twenty years old, many times I have seen that letter in my mother’s wallet. Several times, I took it out, but dared not open it. As soon as I opened it, I could see how bad I was when I was a child, how unreasonable I was. Until now, I still have no courage. I opened the letter I wrote to my mother. Mom, in fact, I really want to say sorry to you, let you sad countless times, and make you angry again and again. Time has changed you in the photos into you now. Dad is seldom at home. Everything in the family is under your control. While you are in charge of the store, you have to take care of us, laundry and doing things at the same time. Dinner, cleaning, things at home and in the store are always busy. You don’t have any cosmetics, skin care products and perfume on women’s dressing table, but lip gloss and moisturizing water. Your hands are full of cocoons, your skin is dark and freckles grow a lot, which is just like you in the picture more than 20 years ago. Really, you are a good mother, worthy of the name of a good mother.

My rebellion period is a little too long, until I really grow up, I slowly no longer afraid of you, I think your temper is getting better and better day by day, you have removed the last line of defense in my heart. Later, I tried to joke with you and try to chat with you. Every time you go to buy clothes, you call me to go with you. Where you go to play and eat, you will call me. You will start to buy some cosmetics. I will help you make up your hair. Gradually, I felt that our relationship was somewhat like a friend. Mom, you know, I’ve always been very bad at expressing, too many words are stuck in my heart, today, I translate them into words to write to you. ‘Mom,’ I owe you a lot of voices, ‘Mom’, as well as Dad. I’m really sorry. I thought I would never say these words in front of you in my life. I think most people would say ‘I love you’ to their parents on Father’s Day, Mother’s Day and so on. This sentence may be hard for me to say to anyone in my life. At least if I can’t say it now, I owe it first. ‘Actually, I have already acknowledged in the bottom of my heart that you have taken off the guard of your heart, but I am too unable to express it. It’s another Mother’s Day. Last Mother’s Day, I sent you a message of congratulations at 12:00 a.m. This morning, when Mother’s Day comes, I sent you an article written for you. I think this is the first time in 20 years that I have said so much to you. I don’t think I can say anything in front of you. Finally, Happy Mother’s Day, my mother! Mom, you’re not as bad as I thought. No, you’re not bad at all!’

Works Cited

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