Cavity

Just last night, I was standing outside my porch, donned in my pajamas and a fleece robe. In my arms I held my Bichon Frise and helped "wave" a good-bye with his paw to a white sports utility that slowly pulled away from my driveway. After watching it disappear in the distance, I turned back and closed the door. I gazed at the living room, and there it was... an unusual void.

My parents have left. The importance is not in the duration of their absence but of the fact that they have left. God knows all the arguments, disagreements and complications causing rifts and animosity between ourselves that we are fundamentally to be blamed for. Yet, almost everyday, we conceal all these complexities and grievances within and sit down to dinner at the table.

I am not fond of my family. Yes, I understand how one might think that I hold some sort of holier-than-thou disposition towards them and I care to admit... in most instances, I do. I was raised in a conservative, church-going, upper-middle class family. Being raised in Singapore had a little to do with this procedure of upbringing. Singapore is one of those entry nations of Asia to diffuse Western technology and culture. My parents had intentions of being liberal, but not wanting to be a hypocrite, they had to infuse the traditional Chinese upbringing, which culminated into awkward and almost always contradictory parenting skills ( You can go out and come back at 1 in the morning. But if you put a animated poster of a couple kissing, you will be slapped silly.)
In short, it wasn't pleasant and I postulate that this may be the reason why I repress and can't seem to recall most of my childhood memories. I observe my sister and the manner in which she speaks to or deals with her son, and I am reminded of how she used to treat me in my childhood days. I most certainly do not wish to act this way when I have the opportunity to be a mother.

It is not odd to hear yelling and boisterous laughter and talk in my house. Some may call it a lack of propriety or just plain old "loud Chinese people" ( dine at a popular Chinese restaurant to comprehend.) This family's dysfunctions and imperfections serve as a habitual reminder that I am 23 and there is a pang of desperaton to leave this house and be independent (a 20-somethings word for cutting most family ties and "finding" one's self.)
And yet, this is the woman who has favoured me throughout my life, nurtured me as a child, heard me cry, cooks and does laundry for me. This is the man who has taught me how to swim, bicycle, love the physical outdoors and its activities.

I loathe and I love.