I haven’t seen my parents for about five years now. When I saw them last time, they were in their late seventies and my mother told me an episode for a giggle. It goes as follows.
During a recent trip my parents took, they went along the highway beside a lake by car. They found a signboard that advertised a tour boat on the lake. It was already late afternoon but they thought it was still early to check in the hotel. They decided to drop by the lake for the sightseeing boat. When they pulled up their car, the staff at the ticket window was closing the tour boat office and the boat crew who had just returned from the last tour of the day was leaving the boat. My mother jumped on the staff and asked for the tour. The staff replied that today’s tours had been over and told her to come back tomorrow. That was the point where my mother unleashed her specialty. A fabrication.
“My husband and I are an old frail couple who came all the way from a very far place just to get on this boat. We had been looking forward to sightseeing this lake by boat so much for a long time. It’s extremely disappointing not to be able to get aboard. We arrived here later than we had planned because we couldn’t drive fast due to our age. We won’t have enough time tomorrow to come back here. If anything, I’m not sure if we could come back here ever again because we’re too old.”
In this made-up story of hers, there is not a jot of truth but all lies. However, the kind staff bought her fake misery and talked to the captain of the boat. He willingly untied the mooring rope and prepared the boat especially for my parents. They monopolized the entire boat as if it had been their charter tour. After she told this to me who was downright disgusted throughout the whole story, she added that although the tour had been boring and the lake hadn’t been appealing, she had exulted in her deed by which she made the staff work overtime just for her and my father and made the staff go home late that day. It appeared that she was proud of what she did to them since it showed how clever she was to take advantage of them. My father was smiling and nodding amusingly.
My parents are evil. They haven’t changed as they became older. My mother never stops deceiving people whether she gains benefits or not. Benefit doesn’t matter to her but deceiving is her purpose even if she would suffer a loss in return. Too many times I have seen her do harm by lying to her family, acquaintances and strangers alike. It seems someone’s unhappiness is her only pleasure. As her child, I have had more than enough share of suffering by her lies. It started by what she had kept teaching me as far as I can remember as her mantra that was all the people in the world were evil and they spoke ill of me behind my back while they seemed nice. When I was hospitalized in a children’s ward for nephritis, she came to see me mere half an hour before the visiting hour was over at night and went home hurriedly though she promised she would come early afternoon everyday. A thorough examination day was scheduled for me at the hospital and I earnestly begged her to come early for once and accompany me because I was nervous and the nurse also urged my mother to do so. She made a promise, and of course she broke it and didn’t show up. The nurse accompanied me in place of my mother the whole day through numerous kinds of examinations. When they finished and I got back to my ward, my mother was sitting beside my empty bed, not apologetically but satisfactorily. Beside these instances, I was hurt by my mother’s constant lies, big and small. Worst of all, I couldn’t help trying to believe her while I duly knew she was lying, which enhanced my disappointment. As I grew older, her lies to me got more fierce thus the damage resulted bigger. My father is her puppet who does whatever she tells him to do and connives at her lying. Eventually they ruined my business and then stole my money. I learned a lesson in a hard way before I estranged myself from them and finally cut them off. We haven’t been in touch for years.
Although I sustained irretrievable damage from my mother a million
times, I feel envious every time I see a mother and a daughter hanging
together. I always wonder if there’s such a thing as good parents in
this world when I watch the award show on TV and the recipients mention
gratitude toward their supportive parents in their speeches. It sounds
more implausible than envious to me. On my part, I want to think that a
child from evil parents can grow into a good person. I sincerely try to
prove it by being good myself.
