Awkward People
My family is so...AWKWARD. All of it. No matter where I turn there is something so unfamiliar when it comes to family.
My grandfather died Sunday (Monday in Malaysia) at age 85 from complications from a lung infection. My mother notified me via email, because I made sure it was the only possible mode of communication between us. I did that partly because of all the crazy problems we've had since I was NINE, and partly because speaking to her is incredibly stressful (she dominates our conversations) and only leads to damaging our relationship (or lack thereof) in the long-run.
I've been meaning to send her a short but polite email of my condolences. Not that I'm cold or didn't love my grandfather or anything--I just didn't know him. I met him once when I was eleven. The only memory I have between us is him telling me that mosquitoes bite my mom and not him because he talks to them in Malay and asks them nicely not to bite him, while she curses them and panics and flails. So if you ever see me talk calmly to a bee or something, that's the one thing I got from my grandfather. It's cool, but not a whole lot to go on. The closest to sadness I got out of that email is knowing that I would never know him better. That's just...what comes of growing up an ocean away.
Then my stepfather (ex-stepfather?) emailed me last night telling me about my grandfather and asking me to please call my mother (with the understanding of how difficult that is). He said, "I am very sorry for your families loss and I hope you will someday learn of this one man's contribution to building a nation, if you don't already know." Obviously, I don't know. I know that his house is huge, and that he was CEO of an oil conglomerate. I know that part of why he had that position is because of a law in Malaysia that says that in order to start a business you must be or be partners with an orang putang, a native Malaysian. I know that he had two families, and that mine won a long, difficult feud over him and his money. I learned these things from my father. I learned more about my mom's dad through the ex-husband that my mom hates (awkward?). The only thing I remember my mom telling me about her parents was complaining about how awful (really it didn't match, like her and I) her mother's parenting was (ironic+awkward?). I would have loved to hear stories that I could be proud of. After she told me (when I was 19 or 20) that my great-grandfather had a street and school named for him in Penang, it became a bragging point for me and still is. All I got from her was shame and anger and that one tiny piece of awesomeness. :(
My email back was basically You're right, I should call her. I'll do it if I can get a phone that is not mine (ie find my old one or borrow a friend's). I opened with Hi there, which is kind of a default for me and also because he's no longer my stepfather, he's not my dad, and it's weird to call him by name. They MADE me call him "Dad" for the eight or nine years they were married. He signed his email "Love, Michael." I signed with just my name. I mean, here's someone that I could easily count as an older friend. But I've always felt toward him what I might toward an uncle. He's never been and never could be "dad" to me. So love is not a word I can honestly use.
So now I'm wondering who I might ask to borrow a phone from, or if I might be able to find my old one (assuming it works). I don't want my mom to have my phone number, because her calling me ever would end with me furious. I mean, I keep it to email for good reason. When she used to call me, she'd end up yelling at me for not calling (I was working and going to school full time), and usually threaten to take me off her phone plan. Meanwhile I'd fume. Then I would get angry at the mere thought of talking to her, and so I never did. Then she'd call me again weeks later and the cycle would spiral down. So I broke it. This cycle needs to stay broken.
Or maybe I should just flip the tables. I'll call her on my phone with the understanding that if she EVER calls me I will not pick up, and if she keeps calling I'll just block her number. But my mom is able to be so persistent, dammit. She will call me on other phones, I'm sure. I mean, when she couldn't reach me she started calling everyone I had called in the previous month (which I consider an violation of my privacy but also was my fault for being on her phone plan even when I was independent in every other way).
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. What do I do?
My grandfather died Sunday (Monday in Malaysia) at age 85 from complications from a lung infection. My mother notified me via email, because I made sure it was the only possible mode of communication between us. I did that partly because of all the crazy problems we've had since I was NINE, and partly because speaking to her is incredibly stressful (she dominates our conversations) and only leads to damaging our relationship (or lack thereof) in the long-run.
I've been meaning to send her a short but polite email of my condolences. Not that I'm cold or didn't love my grandfather or anything--I just didn't know him. I met him once when I was eleven. The only memory I have between us is him telling me that mosquitoes bite my mom and not him because he talks to them in Malay and asks them nicely not to bite him, while she curses them and panics and flails. So if you ever see me talk calmly to a bee or something, that's the one thing I got from my grandfather. It's cool, but not a whole lot to go on. The closest to sadness I got out of that email is knowing that I would never know him better. That's just...what comes of growing up an ocean away.
Then my stepfather (ex-stepfather?) emailed me last night telling me about my grandfather and asking me to please call my mother (with the understanding of how difficult that is). He said, "I am very sorry for your families loss and I hope you will someday learn of this one man's contribution to building a nation, if you don't already know." Obviously, I don't know. I know that his house is huge, and that he was CEO of an oil conglomerate. I know that part of why he had that position is because of a law in Malaysia that says that in order to start a business you must be or be partners with an orang putang, a native Malaysian. I know that he had two families, and that mine won a long, difficult feud over him and his money. I learned these things from my father. I learned more about my mom's dad through the ex-husband that my mom hates (awkward?). The only thing I remember my mom telling me about her parents was complaining about how awful (really it didn't match, like her and I) her mother's parenting was (ironic+awkward?). I would have loved to hear stories that I could be proud of. After she told me (when I was 19 or 20) that my great-grandfather had a street and school named for him in Penang, it became a bragging point for me and still is. All I got from her was shame and anger and that one tiny piece of awesomeness. :(
My email back was basically You're right, I should call her. I'll do it if I can get a phone that is not mine (ie find my old one or borrow a friend's). I opened with Hi there, which is kind of a default for me and also because he's no longer my stepfather, he's not my dad, and it's weird to call him by name. They MADE me call him "Dad" for the eight or nine years they were married. He signed his email "Love, Michael." I signed with just my name. I mean, here's someone that I could easily count as an older friend. But I've always felt toward him what I might toward an uncle. He's never been and never could be "dad" to me. So love is not a word I can honestly use.
So now I'm wondering who I might ask to borrow a phone from, or if I might be able to find my old one (assuming it works). I don't want my mom to have my phone number, because her calling me ever would end with me furious. I mean, I keep it to email for good reason. When she used to call me, she'd end up yelling at me for not calling (I was working and going to school full time), and usually threaten to take me off her phone plan. Meanwhile I'd fume. Then I would get angry at the mere thought of talking to her, and so I never did. Then she'd call me again weeks later and the cycle would spiral down. So I broke it. This cycle needs to stay broken.
Or maybe I should just flip the tables. I'll call her on my phone with the understanding that if she EVER calls me I will not pick up, and if she keeps calling I'll just block her number. But my mom is able to be so persistent, dammit. She will call me on other phones, I'm sure. I mean, when she couldn't reach me she started calling everyone I had called in the previous month (which I consider an violation of my privacy but also was my fault for being on her phone plan even when I was independent in every other way).
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. What do I do?