My mother gave me some money. No, she emailed me first saying that she was going to give me some money. I haven’t really used my parents’ money since I graduated from college. It’s immoral to use their hard-earned Taiwanese dollars for my American spending. Well into their 50s they’re both still working hard full time earning those Taiwanese dollars.
But she emailed me. She didn’t quite explain why, except saying that she’s almost 60 years old and that she might die any day.
Email is a poor way to communicate. Email should be used strictly for scheduling and task management. Anything that has feelings attached to it should be done face to face or by the phone. We did talk later and clarified what the money was about, but the night she emailed me I had a bad dream.
In my dream, I went home. I saw my mother sitting on the couch, top naked holding a Trader Joe’s sponge in her left hand. She had sewn up wounds on her body, and a big cast on one of her thighs. She said she was hit by a truck, but she’s doing okay now. Then as usual she insisted on taking me shopping, buying me sweat pants because I can never have enough pants and they’re so cheap and warm and nice.
Then I couldn’t stop crying.
I woke up feeling quite desperate and scared. I called her and we talked.
I know my mother will die one day just like everyone else’ s mother. But for now, mother is fine.


