sorry isn't enough

Dearest Mum,

I'm so sorry I didn't make it home on time for dinner.

I woke up this morning feeling a little unwell and had a tinge of heaviness in my heart. Needless to say these sprouted the seeds of moodiness for the rest of the day. I tried cheering up, tried putting in my efforts in working efficiently but the nags of despair seem to have clouded my mind. I couldn't quite concentrate on work, needless to say.

I had problems with arranging a Christmas dinner for the company; I had to see the restaurant supervisor at 8PM to settle the deposit and made sure that they didn't undercut us on what they had promised to serve. I felt a little huffed after all that trouble they'd given us over the past week, so I took a walk around the shopping mall for an hour to ease my mood. Still, while driving home I had this gloomy feeling that wouldn't go away. I sunk lower in my grouchiness.

That doesn't matter now.

I came home, went to the dining room and saw the lovely dinner you had prepared. A shocking realisation dawned on me, Mum dearest. You had told me earlier we're celebrating guo tung (passing of winter) today, because tomorrow we have to go to Aunt C's house for the extended family celebration. I had tears in my eyes and such sorrow in my heart that I totally, totally forgot about tonight's plans. My brothers, dad, aunt and uncles would've all merrily enjoyed your delicious cooking which you've so laboriously prepared. You even made my favourite mushroom and chicken feet dish.

It was all that I could do to not cry when I ate my portion you'd set aside for me. I hope you didn't see the tears I had in my eyes when you helped me clean up the leftovers and washed the dishes. I've been wrapped up so much in my self-pity these days I haven't done much to help clean up the house after the renovations. And to forget a simple yet important thing such as dinner with the family? It was unforgivable.

Oh mum, I don't know how to tell you my problems. I don't want to tell you my problems; I don't want you to worry any more than you already naturally are about me. Your health isn't improving much, and I know you're worried about it being something more serious than expected, heaven forbid. I pray every day that you'll be okay, and that it's only discomfort at old age.

I'm sorry I didn't turn out quite the way you hoped. I'm sorry for the disappointment and heartache I've given you all these years. I'm sorry I'm not one of those dutiful daughters who take care of the family once they've grown up; it seems you're taking care of me still. The times I felt you favoured my brothers over me, that's just my ugly, selfish side who didn't see and appreciate all the wonderful things you did for me and me alone.

I love you Mum, I'm going to miss you so much when I need to leave.

And I'm sorry I can't tell all of this to you. I can't bring myself to.

Ever
Your daughter.


Technorati: life, family