to my mother

Hi Mummy. Hi. Don't get up, I'll settle down on my own.

Are you cooking something today? Shall I buy some zi char for you? How about your favourite dessert? What was it again?

I'm glad that I'm your son, Mummy. You have annoyed me endlessly, but I got to know some cool music from what you have pumped through the speakers.

Why are you so invested in Gundam G (anime) and Harvest Moon (Nintendo game)? You have spent so much money, so much paper and so much time.

Are you ill, Mummy? Why don't you let me pick my own clothes and food when you take me on an outing? Instead, you insist on choosing my jeans for me, and picking a cake that tickles your fancy. Shouldn't it be a cake that tickles my fancy?

Can what you are doing to me be possibly called “love”, Mummy? Do you know what is love?

Let me quote from the Holy Bible, which is God's love letter to humankind:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

Are you passing away, Mummy? Yes, I suppose so. Your greying hair, your sagging flesh, your ever-frequent visits to the hospital...

The writers of the Bible say that I shouldn't despise you in your old age, Mummy. And the Buddha says that it is not proper for me to despise old people, because I, too, have a body that is subject to old age.

I would like to do you some good while you are still alive, Mummy. What would you like me to do?

But you say you just want to spend time with your husband – who is my father, an older man whom I call Papa, an older man with greying hair, sagging flesh and sky-rocketing insurance costs – you say you would like to reciprocate his attention and care, which he has shown towards you while you were ill with breast cancer.

All right, I wish you well. I read that leaving someone to her own devices is also an act of love.

Do you know what the Bible writers say?

I quote:

Whoever finds a wife finds a good thing; he has succeeded in obtaining favour from his Lord.

Well, if God says so. I suppose God showers favour upon my father too – no matter what I think of my father – when God gave you to my father for wife-ing purposes. And I know that I must honour God and God's beloved creatures – of whom my father is one.

Goodbye, Mummy. Goodbye, Papa. Enjoy your time together. As for me – I would like to say that I go with the wind, but it seems that God has put someone in my life, for me to love.

Maybe I'll share your tastes in music with her. Or was it my taste in music? I think of the song, Eyes On Me – sung by Faye Wong – which you recently reminded me about.

Oh yes, I do so love music. You'll support me in my music adventures, won't you, Mummy?

All right, don't get up, I'll see myself out of here. Don't worry, I'll be careful.