Chapter 30

Now, just to get the timeline straight. Here is the sequence of events. The summer break time period for Canadians was between July and September, give or take a few days here and there. 

The first week of the summer was spent scrambling around to register for RCM and all the things associated with it. 

The rest of July would then just be me taking music theory and history classes and rehearsing the pieces for RCM level 10. 

Then I had a gap of around 2 weeks from the beginning of August to the middle of August where I would be visiting China with mom to see dad. 

Following that, I would have about a week of preparation right before my exams for RCM. Then, the tests would all go in the order of theory requirement test, the history requirement test and finally the practical performance test. 

After that, RCM would be done. We would also be nearing the last weeks of August and the last few weeks of summer. During this time, I will be preparing for University.

While all the events seemed to be tightly packed together. They can easily be compartmentalized into their own timelines so I will be treating them as such, like independent events that go on. The main interaction between the three plots? The fact that I brought all my music practice books with me to learn theory while on vacation in China. This, as it would turn out, was a pretty good distraction. Inefficient while it may have been for studying, it worked wonders as a means to distance myself from the interactions between mom and dad that I was definitely not accustomed to nor prepared for.

Anyhow. Here’s how it all played out. You already read about all the RCM stuff from the last chapter. Now onto the trip to China to see dad. 

My mom and I got on a plane for China from Toronto Pearson Airport. When we landed, I realized how awkward the situation was about to get. I have never met this guy in my life. What do I even say? While in thought a random guy came to greet us at the airport. He started chatting with mom for a bit first then looked out towards me. He then shuffled back to talking with mom. I only got glimpses from him every now and then and to be honest, I couldn’t get a read on the guy. Embarrassingly, I would only catch on after a very long conversation he had with mom. This guy was my dad. I thought I would feel some kind of attachment to him or something but I really didn’t. I didn’t feel anything at all. I guess blood doesn’t have any special psychic abilities or sixth sense after all. 

After some time of chatting with mom, he spoke to me briefly and tried very best to be very sincere about my responses but I could tell he was feeling really awkward. I don’t really describe people’s appearance in my story because I don’t tend to pay attention to that stuff but I remembered this first impression and his appearance. I remembered it because to be honest, the conversation with him was very boring. Dad talked about liking things and not liking other things, very unsure of what my interests were at all. Furthermore, I felt like he treated me like a small child when in fact, I was now 17 years of age. It was awkward and to be honest, his appearance didn’t make up for anything either. He looked disappointing. He also didn’t wear anything memorable. The only description that I’ve noted consciously previously was CC and that was because CC was short which seemed to fit well with his personality. With dad, I had no distinct thing I could focus on and remember him by. So, thinking it was an obligation, I took extra care to pay attention to what my dad looked like.

First, he was clean shaven, that I would have guessed. I had half his DNA and I couldn’t grow a beard even decades later. From this, I unfortunately also don’t know if he was taking care of his hygiene or not. Second, he had hair! I thought this was a plus because it likely meant my genetics would likely not result in me being bald in my late 40s. Third, he was hunched a little bit and had a relatively small neck. Overall, his stature was a little taller than me and he looked like he had a little muscle. 

Regardless, I couldn’t get much of a read on him except that he spoke with ease and talked cordially with everyone he met. I wouldn’t really know he was a manual laborer until much later in my life but his personality seemed to fit that job description. He worked a lot of back breaking jobs. You have to be a bit talkative and have a bit of muscle to pull that off. Now, everything I just mentioned should be taken with a grain of salt. There was no evidence here and to be honest, dad kept his current living situation very detached from us the entire trip. The fact that his current situations were so shrouded in mystery rubbed me the wrong way. I felt like I was talking to a con man. 

Feeling the awkwardness of conversing with me, dad kept returning back and forth with mom and eventually just kept talking with her. I zoned out and sat back, unsure about what to think or say. Eventually, I gave up on any attempt at conversation starters and just let mom and dad talk. Boy did they talk. It seemed they had an endless amount of talking to do. Mom seemed pretty happy about the conversation they were chatting about though whenever I paid attention to what they were talking about it seemed to always just be something mundane. Eventually, seeing no end to the conversation, I took out my music homework and got started on it. 

I had this bad habit of doing homework for music while listening to music. I think it took away from my concentration at times though it did allow me to stay entertained as I kept working. Occasionally, if I was out in public and in an area of high volume noise, music was more optimal than being distracted from my surroundings. Speaking of which, at this time in our story, since we were currently sitting in an aisle in the airport and I was completely ignored by mom and dad, I did have my music playing as I studied away. Soon, I forgot about all the awkwardness around me and lost track of time. But then, very abruptly, Mom and dad stopped their conversation and turned to me. I was surprised. What’s going on? 

They looked at me with horror and asked about our connecting flight. Crap. 

I was so focused on avoiding the awkwardness with my homework that I forgot that mom had asked me to make sure we were to go to our terminal and be on the right flight. We were at the right terminal, however, when they called for our flight to board, we missed it. Sitting right next to the counter, we had completely been blinded to the crowd disappearing into the plane. We missed our flight. How’s that for a first time meeting with dad? 

I admitted my mistake and after a few harsh words from mom and a silent glare from dad, we went and got new tickets at the terminal. This was off to a wonderful start. I felt bad. I just met dad for the first time and the first thing I do is screw something up. What is he going to think? Luckily an airline nearby had another flight that was set to depart around 30 minutes after the first one to the same destination. Still, the stupidity and incompetent nature of how I handled the situation haunted me as we got on the second flight. Very demotivated and a bit anxious, we headed towards ShenYang, where my maternal grandmother was residing and also our next destination. 

Eventually, we made it to my maternal grandmother’s apartment, albeit a few hours late. I hadn’t seen her since she left Canada but seeing her again didn’t invoke any sense of emotion. She was a bit of a terror if you’ll recall. Her apartment however? That felt a bit nostalgic to me. I was here when I was younger. Actually, when I stepped back into the place, I recalled the last time I was here and how mom abandoned me to go to Canada. I recalled how miserable that made me feel but then brushed away the thought immediately. I can’t think about that now. This trip isn’t the time to bring that up. I need to think about remaking my impression on dad after that horrible misjudgement at the airport. 

Grandma’s place was large, even now through the eyes of a 17 years old Canadian, it still felt large. The apartment complex was an older building built during the cold war and situated in the center of downtown ShenYang. It was also in the heart of everything since it was built before the downtown area was a downtown area. Though it was dated and rugged, the real estate value was still incredibly high due to the prime location. Anyhow, the main point here? Seeing as how the place was large, we, as in mom, dad and me, all got our separate rooms. The room I was in was also far from the other two. We weren’t even in earshot of each other. I couldn’t hear what they were doing and that was probably a good thing too. Not because I was expecting naughty things but more so because I was expecting yelling and arguments at some point which would definitely make the trip even more awkward. Don’t forget, mom and my grandma, when in the same place, usually will start shouting at one another. If they fought in front of dad, that would be a whole other level of awkwardness.

When we arrived it was already rather late, so unpacking and settling in basically took up the rest of the evening. Take that into consideration and then add on to it the jetlag finally kicking in and what you have is a very tired and now very cranky version of me. I was aware I was very irritable and decided to sleep it off as soon as I could. However, sleep was very fleeting. I wasn’t used to the heat of the area yet and was sweating from the hot summer weather and the lack of AC. Furthermore, to keep temperatures low, we opened all the windows we had. While that may seem like a good idea, I will now tell you that it wasn’t. Why? Grandma’s apartment was on the ground floor and it was home to some of the largest mosquitos you’ll ever see. I had a bug net over the bed but even then, there would be the occasional mosquito that would sneak through somehow. I would then try to go on the defensive and cover myself with blankets only to be forced to get out of the protective covering due to heat. It was a nightmare of sleep deprivation and sweat. Even so, I didn’t complain. 

A part of me was still thinking I was going to add more burdens to the trip from my asking about air conditioning and after already messing up our schedule at the airport. The other part of me was worried about the situation being too delicate because like I mentioned, mom and grandma were always a stream of endless arguments whenever they were together. I was worried that if I had complained about air conditioning it may just act as the catalyst to the arguments. If mom and grandma argued, not only would it be annoying for me on the trip, dad would probably be turned off to the situation a lot more. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep fueling my anxiety but I felt like a conflict could erupt at any time between mom and grandma, which would ultimately also include dad somehow.

Seeing as how sleep was difficult as hell, I tried to do some homework in hopes of inducing some drowsiness within me. Unfortunately, the drowsiness never overcame the heat nor the jetlag I was trying to keep in check. This meant that I was sweating and awake in agony. Needless to say, I did not have a good time. After forcing myself through a chapter of my homework, I gave up. No more homework for today I thought. Then, I proceeded to take out the entertainment I brought for this vacation trip to China. It was just an old iPad. The iPad which was a gift from my aunt (my mom’s brother’s wife) from a previous vacation to Vancouver with mom and grandma. My mom wouldn’t dream of spending that kind of money on me for something so trivial so I guess it was lucky that my aunt liked me. Anyhow, I took out the iPad to seek entertainment from Youtube or something of the like only to realize that there was no WiFi. Well, that sucks. Looking for anything to do other than homework, I opened the photos app and looked at the photos I took with the iPad. Sure enough, they were all photos from my previous vacation in Vancouver and nothing else.

Is it weird to think about your past vacations on your current vacation? I don’t know. But during that time of being essentially being in an oven with mosquitoes always nearby, it was as good a distraction as anything. While scrolling more and more, I came to realize a parallel between the previous vacation and this current one. It had to deal with the role of the peacekeeper. As much as the previous vacation was meant to be a time for my grandma and uncle to catch up, it was much more memorable for the fact that the majority of the trip had been filled with just yelling back and forth between mom and grandma. Grandma and mom would always butt heads at home and this was no different while on our vacation. At this point I think I understood where my anxiety of predicting a fight with mom and grandma came from. Regardless, whenever they fought, it was always due to small things that are really inconsequential to anyone and anything. An example would be my grandma would complain about wanting hot water at restaurants and my mom telling her that it was unusual to ask for it. Then, out of obligation or just the thought of being seen as a bad daughter, my mom would ask for it herself while complaining about it the entire time. Fortunately, that’s when the role of the peacekeeper comes into play.

The yelling between mom and grandma was only ever stopped whenever my uncle stepped in. He would calm down both sides and maintain the peace. I quickly came to realize how important it was to have an adult male in the family. My mom needed someone to handle certain things around the house, around grandma and around herself. In truth, she needed a dad in the household, though any substitute of just an adult male figure in general would’ve sufficed. They needed to keep my mom in check and keep her own anxiety and anger under control. I hadn’t realized how I couldn’t do this task of making sure when mom and grandma are in the same room, things don’t get too out of hand. While I wasn’t sure about how exactly the adult male figure fixed things, I’m sure they were the cause for any solace we got on the vacation that time. 

As I came to understand this fact, I came to realize that my grandma had been in the same room with mom for a few hours now and I had heard no screaming nor any yelling. I assumed that, similar to my uncle in Vancouver, my Dad was playing peacekeeper. I think for a first-timer he did quite well. I’m not sure what the topic of conversation was but it appeared pleasant or at least it seemed that way through the mumbles across the thick concrete walls. I saw this as a silver lining to heat and mosquitos. At least no screaming between mom and grandma. Unfortunately, it didn’t last. Turns out, there was an undertone of resentment towards dad from grandma. 

I know I keep mentioning mom as the center of her issues with grandma but honestly, grandma was also not without blame. Although I never got that close to her, grandma was just a bother everytime we hung out. She was constantly trying to get us to do things her way and contributing to every conversation despite knowing nothing of the topics we were talking about. My cousins knew about this tendency from when we were children and lived with her and he often described my grandma as the center of all of the family’s mental distress. Even so, she had to be included in everything. Why? Grandma had ownership of our family’s old-world wealth. Her wealth in China was what gave my mom and uncle a start in Canada. Despite all the headache she has given, she still had value to everyone. I knew that the family all endured her because of this, especially my mom.

I think mom endured all the yelling because she thought of it as a means to pay her debts to grandma. Mom would also include her in vacations and travels because she thought it was a nice thing to do. Despite how flawed my mom’s methods were, I do think it was with merit. I personally think grandma had a much better life hanging out with her children and grandchildren in Canada than she would’ve at the current place I was living in. The place, despite how large it was, was very empty. 

My grandma’s wealth, like the place, had come from my grandfather and his successes when he was in the army during the Korean War. He was a pretty highly decorated general of sorts and earned a very comfortable living. Furthermore, he was given the apartment my grandma lived in for free from the government and when all things considered, the apartment was probably more valuable than his salary. When grandpa passed from prostate cancer right after I was born, he left it all to grandma. Grandma, having very little use of the money, chose to save it all using only a small sum to eat and survive. Since she had no major expenses, she gladly gave it to my mom and uncle when they needed it. 

To be honest, grandma’s wealth and her ease at which to pass on that wealth to her children was probably the best trait she had. It served as the silver lining that almost made up for all of her constant pestering. Underneath all the sour comments she gave to everyone and the constant fighting my mom got into with her, she would always give money to family who she thought she could help. I can attest that in the future, whenever I went on vacation, she would always slip me some money to take with me “just in case”. For all the bad she did in life, those moments would be how I remember her. An annoying but kind senior who didn’t care for her wealth and was perfectly okay with passing it on to her children. Despite all the annoyances grandma gave my life, I still think of her fondly and more fondly as time passes. 

It’s sad to think how this trait never passed on to my mom. If you recall the value system of my mom, the tier list for family, which mostly just included me, was not in the higher tier levels. My mom seems like she was most lenient with her money when it came to her friends and strangers. To be more accurate, she spent money most whenever she felt like she could gain some form of prestige or superior morality out of it. I’m not sure how far exactly you’d have to go down the list before she would consider giving the money to me but it definitely wasn’t a short walk down. She very sparingly gave me money despite my demonstrating that I had never made any poor decisions with it. I never did drugs or spent money on frivolities in all my years. If anything, I would consider myself a very cheap child to raise. I still don’t know why my mom didn’t trust me with money still to this day but whatever it is, she isn’t budging on this. If I had to guess? I’d say since she never wanted me in the first place, it’s not a long stretch to think that she wouldn’t want me to inherit anything of hers. 

I tried not to think too much about money. It ruins families. I think all things considered it was probably the most common thing to ruin families second only to politics on occasion though more times than not, money is supreme at family discourse. Coincidentally, as I was thinking about how money would ruin families, I got a knock on the door. I snapped out of my spiraling mind.

Oh, right. I’m on vacation and staying at my grandma’s house with mom and dad. I wonder who is at my door.

To my surprise, it was grandma. In my downward spiral of thought while looking through pictures from Vancouver, I hadn’t realized that it was now dark and that the conversations had died down. It was quiet now. Mom and dad were asleep (in their separate rooms). What could grandma possibly want? I let her in and as it turns out. She wanted to have a conversation about money. She revealed to me that night some secrets for mom and dad that I kind of knew but never truly got told about directly.