Another week, another family dinner with my mother and my 39 year old sister.
Ernie: How was your day?
Mom: I bought cherries today at Safeway. The man told me the cherries were for $1.50, so I bought a whole bunch of them, except when I went to the cash register they charged me $4.50, so I told them $1.50 and they asked if I had CLUB CARD and I said I left mine at home so they entered my phone number and they gave me a discount!
I swear to God, my mother is turning into the Crazy Asian Ladies that white comedians talk about in their stand-up routines.
Ernie: (to my sister) And yours?
Angela: I did missionary work.
Mom: She takes BART and walks around Berkeley by herself for the entire day.
Angela: It was non-verbal.
It’s taken me 19 years, but the whole responsible adult bullshit has caught on to the way I interact with my sister now. Medication keeps her psychosis in check, but in her age and frame of mind, it would be difficult for her to ever transform into a fully functional member of society. I talk to her in a calm and soothing voice as instructed to me by various books on mental illness and in turn, she answers in pleasant one to two word responses. She asks me if I bought the shirt I’m wearing, like every other time I come home, and now I know enough to say, “No, the shirt isn’t new, but I bought it at Old Navy, I’m glad you like it” instead of flipping out and asking why she’s always asks the same question every time I go home for dinner.
Sometimes though, when I’m watching Korean soap operas with my mom, she’ll turn and look at me, just look at me, as if we were identical twins and she were trying to send some sort of desparate, telepathic message. An action like this would have previously triggered something combative or defensive inside, but now I just silently nod and smile and make a motion to the TV. And when she blankly stares at the sobbing girl eating rice on the television screen, I’ll wonder to myself: “What did you want to say? What would you say to me, if you could? Where did everything go horribly, horribly wrong?”
I know what you are going through with your sister. My mother was exactly the same way. Thankfully my mother was only that way half the time.
The other half she was quite sane. It was just hard to tell which time I was in… the sane or insane time, she was sneaky
I just want to give you a hug and tell you it’s all going to be alright. I truly think that there is so much variation in the human species for a reason. If there is nothing else I can convince you, please believe this: your sister’s life didn’t go horribly wrong. She is perfect just the way she is. Once you realize this, you will start to notice the ways in which it is true.
barf
just remember, there’s someone out there in this world whose penis hurts everytime they pee. they may have a perfect life, with perfect family members, a perfect significant other and a perfect job… but when that tingly feeling arrives: urine hell, buddy.
there, don’t you feel better now?
I don’t think anything went wrong. There will always be those things a family knows internally, but just isn’t discussed.
Maybe it’s something ethnically isolated, but I find it hard to speak to my family members too. beyond the common pleasantries and motions.
Ernie, you are a gorgeous writer. Keep on, keeping on.
Your mom must be all over the Club Card scratchers contest…that is if she understands football.
Ernie,
I just want to tell you I adore your blog and your writing. I so feel like I’m right there with you. Please please don’t ever stop. More! More!
Your posts about your sister are consistently beautiful.
At least when you exchange looks with your mom, you inherently know what she’s thinking. You’re offering some sort of support by spending the evening with her. Physical presence and the shared experience of watching Korean soaps must be comforting, I think…
And I’m also with Stan on this one. You can’t always talk out those problems. Shoot, they’re better left unsaid. It can just lead to more drama.
Ernie, You have the gift of telling tales.. keep up da good work!
Man, you kind of slapped me in the face with the sadness. I was laughing about the cherries and then suddenly morose. Which was kind of awesome.
I swear to God, my mother is turning into the Crazy Asian Ladies that white comedians talk about in their stand-up routines.
I told my mom yesterday that exact same thing.
Sometimes though, when I’m watching Korean soap operas with my mom, she’ll turn and look at me, just look at me, as if we were identical twins and she were trying to send some sort of desparate, telepathic message.
Damn, that’s whay my mom always does, and I always wonder the same thing when she does that.
Thank you for all you’ve done, to entertain us, to humanize us, for everything. Truly, you’ve been there for all of us, just like we have for you.
Ok, enough of this asian angst business. I came to give you this link of two white boys singing along to the Pokemon Theme Song. http://www.youtube.com/w/Pokemon-Theme-Music-Video?v=XPqkkFDDcWI&search=The%20New%20Pornographers-%20%22Use%20It%22
I’ve read with pleasure. Maybe it’s offtopic, but i just wanted to say, that it’s really funny to read everything this… You discuss here a lot of interesting things on different useful themes. Thanks for that =)
Just another fan of your writing here. I think you speak for all of us who deal with dysfunctional family members.
I am confused though by your last paragraph. I thought you meant your sister turned to stare at you, but some comments indicate it was your mother you were referring to?
In my family it’s bipolar disorder. My mom, twin and older brother struggle with it. I know from whence you speak.
Good writing. Miss you, Ernie.
Ernie,
I love that I stumbled onto your blog over a year ago. Thanks for writing this.
Sounds like you’ve progressed a lot in learning to deal with things/people you can’t change. That will be good for you in the long run. I’m glad!
Wow. I just found your blog by way of MC’s. You have me in stitches. And then sad. And then laughing at myself. Between the graduation sanke dance, the milk story, the mom updates, and the compassionate descriptions of your sister. Damn. Keep it coming!
And if you’re tired of reality, grab Jason and join me on the Gorgonnash Server in World of Warcraft! You know you wanna.
i used to go through that with my brother every. single. day.
now that i live across the oceans, i sometimes have those strange, surreal conversations with him in my head. it’s the only thing i’d known for so long that it’s the only way i can remember him.
guess some people just don’t realise the value of money. “Crazy Asian Ladies” indeed >-(
holy crap. makes me think of my mom just this past saturday:
my mom planned chinese new year’s dinner a week ahead of time (obviously to avoid the crowds) and vowed to go to “fresh choice” next year so everyone can have what they want (vs. the chinese restaurant that we went to. and! also to avoid the string of emails that lasted days on end because they could not agree on what to order).