It was heartrending to see you weep after you discovered that your decision to send me to America might not have been the best one. You are always supposed to say you are right, you know? I hope this letter consoles you-you have been a great mother.
To be honest, I used to wish you were a better mother. First, I hoped you would love me more. Remember in seventh grade when I accused you of not loving me? I had read Death of a Salesman at school, and felt that as much as Willy's love for his sons was based on his dream of having successful sons, your love for me was about my test scores, not the person who I am.
I have recently felt that way, too. When you call me from the other side of the Pacific every other day, you don't ask me how I am nor express your love verbally. Instead, you go through your checklist-you love making checklists-like a debater speeding through his arguments. On my sixteenth birthday, my birthday wasn't on your checklist and I had to remind you that February 17th is the day you gave birth to your second son.
But now I know better. I know that the seemingly dehumanized manner is simply your method of expressing love. When you ask "Is there anything else?" after finishing your checklists on the phone, I know what you really mean to say is "I love you." You are aware of my test dates better than my birthday because, well, you are concerned about my future.
I was a fool to assume that you don't love me. That is all you do. You live for your two sons, and you would die for us. You start your day praying for us, and you end your day praying with us.
I was not only foolish, but also arrogant. Rather than being grateful for your unconditional love, I wished you were more patient, composed, and intelligent. I have realized the beauty of unconditional love is the attitude of accepting what nature has chosen for me. When you called me, crying, after being scolded by your boss, I realized that you deserve even more love for who you are-someone who needs the help of others.
I still want you to first ask me how I am when you make the international call, and remember my birthday once in a while. I still hope you are calmer and mentally stronger. But these are just hopes. You have provided unconditional love and have taught me its virtue-humility. What more could I ask for?
Your son, ABC