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墨書 Inktalez
My husband has heard it several times and said, "Does your mother still expect you to pay for her phone bill? Isn't she taking care of the second child?" He doesn't really care about the money; he just can't understand how my mother doesn't even have enough to pay for her phone. Many times after I pay her phone bill, she becomes completely unreachable.
Whenever she comes to see me, she brings some pancakes or wild vegetables that she made herself. When she leaves, I always give her money—enough to buy several times what she brought. If I don't give her money, I feel sorry for her. She doesn't have a job or a pension and usually relies on my dad for a couple of hundred yuan to get by.
After not receiving any money from me for two consecutive visits, my mother decided to stop coming altogether. Every time my friends talk about their mothers, I feel a pang of regret. I have never walked hand in hand with my mother, never shared a bed with her, and never had any secrets between us. The love that was missing from my childhood has left me feeling dampened for many years.
When my eight-year-old daughter says to me, "Mommy is the best mom in the world; the person I love the most is Mommy," it feels like my heart has been smoothed out.
Watching my daughter play nearby, carefree and happy, brings me joy and tranquility as well.
"Dad, this is the money I promised to give Mother for taking care of the kids. Please make sure to pass it on to her. She has come to see me twice without receiving anything; she has only been here for ten days in total, and this is the remaining amount."
"Forget it; you just gave birth, and Li Cheng isn't making much either."
"No, please give it to Mother. We can't let her work for nothing."
"Alright, I'll take it to your mom. But don't hold any resentment towards your parents; sometimes we really have no choice."
I looked at my cousins beside my dad, feeling bitter. I couldn't even utter a single good word. He takes his grandchildren everywhere he goes, afraid that anyone might slight them. Yet he has never held his granddaughter even once.
Once on the way back to my mother's house, I saw my dad with my little cousin. He bought soy milk for him but didn't spare a cup for my one-year-old daughter who was holding my hand and watching him. A cup of soy milk costs one fifty, yet he couldn't bring himself to buy one for her.
Suddenly, I remembered something he said a year before I got married when he forgot to give Ting Ting her red envelope because she wasn't there.
"Your sister-in-law said at home, 'Why didn't you give Ting Ting her red envelope?'"
"She wasn't here yesterday; I'll give it to her tomorrow."
"Why didn't you give it? The other two got theirs." My dad pressed again.
"I'll make it the first thing I do when I get home tonight, alright? Forget it; I'll just give you the money now so you can take it to her."
He took the money and said, "Good thing I asked; otherwise, it would have been forgotten."
"Jing Jing, maybe I should just die; then I wouldn't have to be scolded anymore."
Hearing her cry on the other end of the line made my heart ache as well.
"Mom, what's wrong? Please explain clearly. Why are you acting like this?"
"Your dad is working at Mountain Ridge, chatting with people in the village. He heard some gossip and came back to yell at me, and it was really harsh."
"Please stop crying. I'll call Dad. You know how he is; he loves to yell. Don't take it too seriously. After all these years, he's just a tough exterior with a soft heart."
I've lost count of how many times I've heard Mom say she wants to die. My heart has grown numb over time.
"Dad, why are you arguing with Mom? How old are you both? You fight at home every day, and now you're going back to the village to argue?"
"Mind your own business! Your mom is no good. People told me that when we first got married, but I didn't believe them. Now I understand. From now on, whoever wants to support her can do so; I'm done with it. If you want to take care of her, go ahead."
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