I wasn’t sure how much longer I could work there. I wasn’t excited about my projects, nor about tech at all, really...yet I was living in the thick of it. Every company that I looked at seemed to think that it was somehow saving the world. It was certainly truer in some cases than in others, but most of the time, it was a gross exaggeration. Software engineering paid well, and it was easy for me, but I wanted to do something that actually made the world better, or brought people joy, or that I truly, genuinely cared about. But what?
I didn’t know, and I didn’t know how to figure it out. And with my dad’s passing so young (he was only 63), I could feel death lurking around the corner, waiting for me. The days started to feel a little bit like I was just killing time while I slowly crawled towards my appointment with the afterlife. Going to the gym, eating, sleeping, taking care of myself...all of that was just delaying the inevitable. Why bother?
I even lost interest in climbing. Every route in the gym felt the same. Getting to the top of a finite wall, following a route that someone else had set...climbing in a sea of indifferent, or deluded, tech people. None of that held any appeal to me. What was the point of getting stronger? Of facing fears or challenges that were artificially constructed? And continuing to do so, over and over and over? It just seemed like an unnecessary hassle, not worth the effort anymore.
Eventually, I stopped going to the gym. Most nights, I just worked late, ate at the office, and went straight home.
The only thing that kept me going was my mom. I’d wanted to be strong for her, to keep her going...but instead, I found myself holding onto her like a lifeline. The knowledge that she needed me was what got me out of bed each morning.
I visited my mom, aunt, and uncle for dinner every few days. While she was still quieter than before, her spirits seemed to have picked up with the added company. Each time she smiled or laughed, I was a little bit more relieved.
My mother was a very intuitive woman, and it wasn’t long before she noticed that something was wrong with me. One night, she pulled me aside after dinner. “Let’s go walk around the park.” She put on her walking shoes while I told my aunt where we were headed, then we set out towards Dolores Park.
Even that late, there were people still hanging out on the grass, talking and smoking. My mom dramatically held her nose and waved her hand in front of her face at the smell of marijuana. I jokingly breathed in deep, and she slapped my arm and told me to stop. I laughed.
“Ian. Don’t do that. You’ll get cancer.”
“I’m young and healthy, Ma, I’ll be fine.” But I did stop. Shame filled me at the thought of how insensitive my joke had been, given her health scare.
“Ian. You need to take better care of yourself. You’re young, be happy. Don’t look so sad all the time.”
I was surprised. Whenever I was with my mom, I always tried to act happier than I was. In some perverse way, sometimes I actually believed it. “I am happy, Ma.” I grinned. “We’re here in beautiful California, with our family. And I have the best mom.” I put my arm around her shoulders.
She frowned, not buying it. “You need to get married.”
Sigh. Not this again. I shook my head. “I will. I’ll go home and start messaging women right after this, just for you.” I squeezed her shoulder.
She looked up at me, still frowning. “Ian. What do you want to do?”
I stopped walking and turned to face her. “What do you mean? I’m happy to get married, I just have to find the right person, first.”
She reached up and patted my cheek. “You’re a good boy. But what do you want?”
I frowned. “I still don’t understand. What does that mean?”
She took my hand and pulled me towards the park, continuing our walk. After a few minutes, she asked, “Do you know why we watched so many dramas, your Ba and I?”
We crested a hill, and I turned to take in the San Francisco evening skyline. “Because you were bored?”
She shook her head. “Because they represent the lives we could have had, but were too afraid to try for. Oh, we were happy together,” she said and waved a hand at me when I tried to interrupt. “I’m not saying we wanted to experience crazy romance stories. Though I wouldn’t have minded if your Ba were a CEO who beat up bad guys and swept me off my feet. The point is, those characters always have to choose: do they stick with what they know, with what’s safe, or do they follow their hearts? In the dramas, they always follow their hearts. But when your Ba and I first came to the US, life was hard. We didn’t have choices. We had to do what was safe so that we could have a good life together. We did what we could to survive, so that we could raise you responsibly.”
She kneaded my hand in both of hers. She’d been a masseuse, and it was her subconscious way of comforting people. “But we’d always dreamed of more,” she sighed.
The faraway look, the sparkle in my mom’s eyes...it reminded me of Anna, her expression when she talked about music.
“You know, when your Ba was younger, before we got married, he wanted to be an artist. He used to draw all
