“You don’t have to come out here if you don’t want,” says Nona’s mother. “We can do something to remember your aunt by when I see you out there in March.”
Nona feels a little confused. “Mom, isn’t what I’m supposed to do? Anyway, I like, I loved Auntie. Am I not supposed to go show my respect? What will people think if I don’t show up?”
“Not to worry, dear, people will understand. It won’t matter to us. I’m sure your auntie will understand. Anyway, you can remember her and show appreciation anywhere.”
“What about you, mom? I—you must feel sad. I want to make you feel better.”
“She was sick a long time, dear. We have been well prepared. We spoke about important things and spent a lot of time together. Yesterday was her day to leave this world. It’s natural. She was in pain, but I believe that she left in peace. It’s okay.”
“What about Dad?”
“Well, of course, he’s here to be supportive and help out. You see, I’m in good hands and everything will go smoothly. Maybe I should mention that it would be one more thing to take care of, were you to come out here now, and then there would be the added expense of the airfare. You know, we have lots of bills and it’ll be awhile until the insurance is sorted out.”
Nona knows better than to take this last comment the wrong way. She does not wish to add stress and more hardship to her mother’s burdens.
“Nona, honey, I don’t want you to miss any more school time. Your marks are important this year. You’re due to graduate next year, and you know how competitive and tough the economy is these days. You should focus on completing school in top standing.”
“I know. You’re right. We’ve been through this before. It was my decision to come and stay out here. I know.”
“Besides, you’d feel jet lag out here and you wouldn’t get much attention.”
“Yeah.”
“Auntie Selma’s birthday is next week. You’d have to turn around right away a day or two later to get there on time. You want to go to the party, don’t you?
“Yeah. What about you? Will you make it?”
“Yes, I can do that. The funeral will be on Wednesday. I can get there on schedule by Friday night. It’ll be good for me.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll stay put.”
“You’re sure?”
“Never mind, mom. Really, mom. How are you feeling?”
“I am sad, of course, and feeling a bit tired. There’s a lot to do.”
“Yes, I get it.”
“How about you, dear. How do you feel?”
“It hasn’t really sunk in. I guess I’ll find out later.”
“It can happen that way. Don’t try to feel something you don’t. It will come and you’ll figure out what it is. Everyone responds in their own way.”
Nona had not spent much time with her aunt. She visited one weekend at the age of ten, when her parents were fighting. She felt strange and out of sorts during that visit, though her aunt was kind and friendly. There wasn’t much to do in her aunt’s house. They went out to a park, she remembers, and they ate some Chinese take out food.
Her aunt is older than her mom and her two kids weren’t around the house much back then. They weren’t interested in their little cousin. They must have started university by now. Her aunt had returned to nursing and used to work odd shifts sometimes. She remembers her complaining about the cutbacks and hospital conditions. She left and joined a community organization. She was a busy professional woman before she got sick. Her uncle left her and it had been a long time since Nona had heard anything about him. She wonders if he has been around as her aunt was laying on her deathbed. Her mother never mentions him.
Nona has been feeling frustrated with her life at school but she does not wish to say anything at a time like this. She might talk to her father, though.
“Nona, why don’t you give your father a call? You haven’t spoken to him in awhile.”
“I guess I could.”
“Are you still angry with him?”
“I guess I still get angry sometimes.”
“You need to talk it out with him. I think he’d like to hear from you. I think he wants to understand. Anyway, he has a bit more time to talk, to really talk these days than I do. Give him a call soon, okay?”
“Okay, Mom.”
Winona prepares herself for the big call to her dad. She makes a list of what she wants to say and she rehearses some lines. She wants to resist the inclination to break out in emotion when speaking to him like she usually does. She wants to impress him that she is growing up and mature enough to handle life’s tragedies and quirks.
The next night after supper she excuses herself and shuts herself to do her duty. Bracing herself after glancing at her notes, she punches out the number on the wireless receiver.
“Frank, here.” The voice is a bit weary and dull.
The daughter hesitates.
“Hello?”
“Dad, it’s me, Nona.”
The voice brightens. “Nona!”
“Hi!”
“Your mom said you’d call, and you did.”
With a slight nervous laugh, she replies, “I did. How are you, Dad?”
“I’m fine, Non. It’s a bit difficult right now, but it’s your mom’s sister, not mine.”
“Mom said you were helping out.”
“Yes. Of course. After all, it is affecting your brother and my nephews, as well as your grandparents. You’re still all my family, Non.”
“Yeah, I know. I hope they’re okay.”
“They’re fine. They’re good boys. We were all expecting this, as you know.”
“Yes, I know. It’s hardest on your mom and your grandparents.”
“It must be.”
“You’re mom said you seemed to feel a bit guilty for staying out there. You shouldn’t worry, dear. It will not reflect badly on you. I think staying put is for the best.”
“I understand, Dad.”
“You’ll come out here at the end of June for summer vacation, won’t you? That’s what everyone’s saying. You come home for the summer break.”
“That’s right. Maybe I can see you.”
“I’d like that. We should do something special together, eh?”
“Let’s do that.”
“So far, so good,” thinks Nona. She is less nervous. They’ve mentioned her life in the west without any eruptions. Nevertheless, Nona feels the usual resentment for having been sent out west instead of to her father’s household. She tries to hold it in, for she doesn’t want to aggravate her father at this time.
“How’s school?”
“Well, if you really want to know, it’s boring and kinda oppressive at times.”
“Oppressive? Really? Yet, you’re staying out there anyway.”
“Yeah, oppressive. There are too many rules, and they’re so serious about their religion. You didn’t teach us to be religious.” Her tone is getting a little accusatory.
“No, I didn’t, and you know why, hon. All the same, under the circumstances, it was a good option to send you there. You know, cuz we’ve been through this a few times. I thought we had settled the question: just one year, then return to Ontario for your graduation year. It’s a good school. It would have been too much for you to stay with your mom.”
“I know, I know.”
“Your mom is loyal to everyone and wants to take care of everyone. She gets guilty about looking after one, and not being with the other. She’s—well she’s emotional and kind of impossible at times. She tends to take on too much. Anyway, you, I and your mom all agreed to this arrangement, so please don’t nag me about it.”
“You, on the other hand, don’t feel loyal or guilty in the same way.” There is anger in her voice now.
“Winona, you know the divorce was something personal between your mother and me. I’ve explained this well enough before again and again. You’re old enough to appreciate the fact that couples change and can’t always stay together, even when they’re sharing children and a home.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’ve got your brand new life and you don’t want us. You wouldn’t want me bothering you.”
“Winona, as I’ve explained before, your mother would be too uncomfortable with you living here. It’s too soon. We’ve only be divorced one-and-a-half years. As much as I want you with me, it might hurt your mother and grandparents too much. Anyway, it was risky for you. You probably would find it difficult living with Sue, as she is my new wife and an enemy to you all. That’s the way it is. It’s normal to see her as an enemy. Living in close quarters could be more destructive. Anyway, what would you do here? I’m not always around and the schools where I live are not that great. I think you’ve got a good deal.”
Silence.
“I am not rejecting you. I love you, hon. We have to think about others. We have to be practical.”
No response.
“Nona, you’ve acknowledged this explanation before and I thought you accepted it. You’re a fine bright girl with a great future ahead of this. I know you can rise above and handle it. It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”
“I know you’re right, Dad. It sounds reasonable. It’s just hard sometimes.”
Her father detects a slight sniffle. “I know. Life is not fair. The challenge is to address problems and find balance. It is always good to try to put yourself in another person’s place and think about what the other person feels. This is what I’ve always taught you.”
“You’re right.”
“Yes. I know, emotions happen. It’s good. We’re supposed to feel. You can say anything to me.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Things’ll work out better and by the summer you’ll be back out here and you’ll get settled back in. We’ll have time together. You’ll get used to the changes. Like, now your aunt is gone. We’ll feel something, and some of us will miss her. We’ll remember, then we’ll carry on. Death, accidents, mishaps, disappointments—they all happen and we have to deal with it. Right?”
“Right.”
“You like it at Mrs. Malinsky’s place, I take it. She sounds like a fine woman. We’re lucky to have her taking care of you.”
“Yeah, she’s really special. I like talking with her. I guess she likes having a teen around since she misses her girl.”
“Of course. You see? Someone needs you there. You’re doing some good.”
“You’re making friends, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I go out sometimes. I like some of the classmates, though some are a bit fanatical, in my opinion.”
“You stick to your opinions, girl.”
She smiles. “I will.”
“You’ve seen your great aunt and cousins recently, I hear. That’s good. Then there will be the big event next week.”
“That’s right.”
“Your mom will join you then?”
“Yep.”
“A celebration will be just the right thing. We have to make the most of the present, and celebrate life, dear.”
“Right on, dad.”
“Okay, now. I think of you all the time. You’re in my heart.”
“You’re in mine, Dad.”
“Good. See you,”
“See you.”
“Ma, you’ll like it. It’ll be a good time. They will be good hosts. They will provide accommodation and feed us and everything. “ Minsun tries to persuade his parents for the third time to attend the birthday party in Vancouver.
“Minsun. I know you like the family. We are happy they are taking good care of you. They are responsible. However, they are not your family. You will be imposing. They are just asking you to be polite.”
“No, mom. They are inviting me because they think of me as part of the family.”
“How can that be? You are just visiting for a few months. We are paying them.”
“Really, that’s how they feel. That’s the way many Canadians are. They’re very friendly.”
“It would be impertinent and inappropriate.”
“Don’t you want to go to Vancouver anyway and see your cousin and friends there?”
“Yes, of course. Do not confuse the issue.”
“I’m not confused. Why don’t you just attend the main part—the dinner? You’ll be staying in Burnaby, right? Well, that’s where the event will be.”
“I don’t know. I should talk to your father.”
“Do that, mom. Please.”
“Oh, we will have to bring a big gift,” complains the mother.
“They don’t give a lot of gifts here like Koreans do. Just bring a birthday gift. You don’t need to get anything very expensive.”
“I wouldn’t want to disgrace myself. Honestly, Minsun. Use your head. Hm, what would she like? I don’t know these people.”
Minsun smiles to himself, for it appears he is winning this battle. He feels accomplished, and more powerful. “How about some of that traditional pottery? One of my Korean classmates brought some to show the class, and the teachers loved it.”
“Well, that might be difficult to bring along but maybe a good choice.”
“Sure.”
Collin puts on his most convincing face and assumes the voice of reason. “Mom, Gerard would rather stay here and take in some spring skiing.”
“He would, would he?”
“Well, this party thing is more for the women in the family, I think.”
“Do you?”
Gerard pipes up. “I won’t know everybody there. I don’t get to come out to the hills often, and it would be great to spend more time with Collin out in the mountains.”
“I’m not leaving you two out here by yourself. There would be a disaster of some sort, for sure.”
“We can take care of ourselves. We’re big enough.”
“What about Minsun? You’re going to abandon him, too?”
“Say Minsun, why don’t you stay and hang out with us? Come on! I know how much you like skiing,” implores Collin.
“My parents will be in Vancouver and expect to see me. They agreed to go to the party too. Sorry. I can’t go skiing with you on the weekend,” responds Minsun. “Maybe next time.”
“You see, boys, it’s all arranged. We’re going to Vancouver and you’re going to have a good time there, I’m sure of it. You can hang out before and after the party. You can take a boat out, or walk around the park, or go horseback riding. We thought of everything. I told you before.”
“You know, I could stay behind and oversee things,” states Glen, strolling into the kitchen on that Tuesday evening. “Gerard’s Dad would come out here on Friday and the four of us could go skiing together. You know how good it is for bonding and all that.”
Lucy cannot believe her ears. She fumes. “You’re telling me this now, after all the discussions we’ve had, and all the planning and decisions I, and you, have been making for the past four months?”
“Three-and-a-half, actually,” asserts Collin.
“That is enough!” Lucy slaps the countertop. “You guys go downstairs. I need to talk to your father—uncle. You know what I mean.”
“Oh-oh,” chime Collin and Gerard together with nervous grins.
After everyone else has vacated the kitchen, Lucy faces her husband. “Glen, what are you doing?”
“It just came up, this idea for a change of plans. I didn’t initiate it. Gerard was talking to Collin, and Collin talked to me.”
“We already made a decision together as a family. Besides that fact, you know this is important to me.”
“Yes, of course. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be doing it.”
“You’re saying you shouldn’t be involved in it. You’re saying you don’t want to go.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just trying to accommodate the different viewpoints.”
“You are supposed to be a leader. You are supposed to back me up.”
“Honey, I am supportive. I know how important this is to you. I think you’re amazing. I always do. I always get behind your little projects. It’s just that…well, not everybody wants to be in a project. Not everybody wants to be helped or coached all the time.”
Lucy feels tears welling up. “Now you don’t like my profession, my main work in life?”
“Look, you know how much I admire you and all you do for the community. You’re committed and gutsy. I just think you turn on the social worker in you too often. At home, it would be nice if you could relax. The family is not a project.”
“What?”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t go ahead and organize this or that event. That’s great. Everyone appreciates it. Everyone usually benefits.”
“Okay, okay. Look, let’s just deal with the trip to Vancouver. Now we all agreed. We are all going together.”
“All right, all right. Yes. Forget about the idea of a ski trip if it upsets you. You’re right. We’re all going. Don’t fret.”
Glen reaches for his wife but Lucy turns away, frowning. “It’s not good when you go against me in front of the children.”
“I wasn’t going against you. It was just talk, a suggestion about making a little change.”
“A little change. I like that. Sometimes you put me down in front of others, Glen, and I don’t like it. You say I should take off my professional hat, but you frequently act like the righteous lawyer. In fact, that’s how you talk about our matters at home. You give legalistic arguments. ‘Well, this could be done, or that,’ you say. This person says he wants that and it would not be unfair…blah, blah, blah.’ You’re ‘just being rational’, ‘just trying to find a just peace, a balance,’ you say when in reality you’re frequently causing disruptions and frictions exactly because you like to appear so unflappable and smooth. It’s just a lawyer’s guise.”
Glen scratches his head and rocks on his feet a little. “I’m like that?”
“Yes, you’re like that! You’re just so damned calm all the time. Then I’m the bad guy; I’m the fussy and weak one because I’m the only one showing emotion. How about that! Why don’t you knock off the pretentious crap sometimes?”
Glen is dumbfounded. He stares, mouth open.
“You always play the reasonable man leaving me to look emotional and weak. You do it on purpose.” Lucy storms off to her bedroom.
“Oh, why did I get into all this? Look at me,” whines Selma Blais. “I’m so ugly. I’m sagging. I look pale. I don’t want to appear before all those people.
“All those people know and love you. That’s why they’re going to your party,” answers Bonnie reassuringly.
“Not everyone. Oh, why was I so foolish. Why did I get so over-enthusiastic and invite anybody and everybody.”
“It was the right thing to ask people to bring family members and friends,” says Bonnie soothingly.
“Sel, you just have the butterflies, that’s all,” remarks Gertrude as they stand in her friends living room in Victoria. “You haven’t been at a big event in a long time. It’s normal to get cold feet. It’ll pass and you’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“That’s right,” Mrs. Blais.
“Remember your resolutions, dear,” says Gertrude. “You made those resolutions. We must carry through!”
“Ha-ha! Gertrude is right, ma’am. You must go on. You can do it.
“Who wants to see this old sack of potatoes? My God, they’re going to ask me to speak! How many do we have coming, now? I think it’s over 50!”
“The people who love you,” answers Bonnie. “We all love you.” Hey, they know how old you are. It’s your 70th birthday party!”
“That’s right,” agrees Gertrude. “No sense in being coy about it any more. You’re turning 70 so we may as well get used to the idea and whoop it up anyway.”
“Exactly. Let’s whoop it up. Life is so short,” concurs Bonnie.
“I’m afraid I’ll look stupid. I’ll make a fool of myself,” worries Mrs. Blais.
“Dear, we all know already that you can be foolish. It’s too late to worry about that. The deeds are done, my girl. The thing is, we are all foolish sometimes, and we love you anyway. I say it’s time to let our hair down and get downright silly, anyway. Time to par-tee!” Gertrude spins around on the carpet and takes Bonnie’s hand to keep twirling.
“Gerty, you can be such an ass.”