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Luminous Skies

  By Jennifer Tong

  Copyright 2014 Jennifer Tong

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  I don’t like stars. They’re small, dim, and distant. And they’re hardly there the majority of the time. What good are things if they can’t even be seen?

  To me, stars were like family: you know they’re always there, but they’re better off out of your sight. There are so many sentimental quotes like “blood is thicker than water” or “family over everything.” However, in actuality, “family” is just the people you’re stuck with for life. And it sucks because you didn’t even get to choose them. Family over everything? What a joke.

  I’ve never been on good terms with my family. My parents were always working when I was a child, so loneliness was my only friend. The only time I ever got to see them was in the morning if I got up early to have breakfast with them. I was usually sent to the daycare so that they wouldn’t have to take care of me, and even then a neighbor would come to pick me up instead of my mother or father.

  I only have two happy memories regarding my family. The first was coming home to a cold plate of dinner with a note of reminders signed “Love, Mom and Dad” every day. Although the dinner was cold and I had to eat alone, I was just happy that they had even remembered to cook for me and tell me they loved me. The other memory was making stars.

  Once in my early years of childhood, my parents didn’t go to work in order to spend my fifth birthday with me. That day, they taught me to make paper stars, and we made a thousand of them together and put them in a big jar. After we finished making them, my parents put the stars on the highest shelf in my room, telling me that stars are beautiful but distant, to be observed and not touched. Stars were the reminder of their love for me throughout my loneliness; as long as the stars still shone, my parents would always love me. They even gifted me with a star necklace as a constant reminder of their love; it was my treasure.

  Although small, these memories used to get my hopes up. One starry night, when I was eight, I decided to wait for my parents to come home. They said they loved me as long as the stars were shining, so that meant they’d want to see me, right? Of course they missed me. It was a horrible decision.

  At 1 AM, as I was dozing off, I heard the clack of the front door opening. My drowsiness immediately faded and I ran towards the door, bursting with excitement. I hugged my father’s leg and exclaimed, “Daddy! Welcome home!”

  He jolted with a start. “Honey, what are you doing awake? Don’t you have school tomorrow?” To this I nodded. “All right then. Daddy’s tired, okay? Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

  I nodded vigorously and headed to my room. As I closed my eyes, a fluttery feeling spread throughout my body, as I hoped to make my father happy by being a good girl. Then, as I was falling asleep, I heard the door open once more. Even though my father did tell me to be a good girl and go to sleep, I wanted to greet my mother too. Excitedly, I bounced down the hallway anticipating hugging her leg the way I hugged my father’s. However, just as I approached the end of the hallway, I heard shouts.

  “What do you mean she was awake? What was she doing! Ugh, this is what happens when you don’t raise your child correctly,” I heard my mother sigh in frustration.

  “I didn’t raise her correctly? What about you?” my father retaliated. “I don’t see you raising her. All you ever do is stay cooped up in that office all day.”

  “Oh, so now it’s my fault? I’m working hard to keep this family under a roof,” my mother shouted back. “At least I cook and clean for her. The only thing you do is work, work, work.”

  The argument continued back and forth, slowly getting worse and worse. With every word, their shouting increased.

  No way. This wasn’t right. My parents were supposed to love each other and be very happy. And they were supposed to miss me and think of me a lot. That’s what my teacher always told me. …So why were they talking about me like I was a burden? Why were they talking about me as if they didn’t want me?

  After that night, the stars never shone in front me of again. From that day on, I kept the jar of stars out of sight, and every night sky was pitch-black. I lost the necklace, and I didn’t bother looking for it. It wasn’t a treasure anymore; now it was just a bitter reminder of the cruelty of reality. I began referring to my parents coldly as “mother” and “father”, no longer the affectionate “mommy” and “daddy.” I saw them less and less, and when I was twelve, a divorce was filed. It was decided that I would live with my father, who soon remarried to a young woman in her twenties.

  Neither of my parents bothered telling me about the reason for their divorce, so I simply assumed that they were tired of the arguments. But one day, I felt like asking my father. So I did. Apparently, my mother cheated on him with a coworker, which is why she kept coming home later and later as time went on. After my father found out, he ended things immediately. And shamelessly, my mother married the partner of her affair right away.

  After my father’s remarriage, he was promoted in his job. For the first time, he actually had time to spend with me, his only child. But this time, I was the one who distanced myself from him. By this time, I was in my teens, and I no longer knew how to communicate with him; neither did I have the desire to do so. It seemed that any hopes of a happy family were crushed that fateful night when I realized the true situation of my family.

  Soon enough, my new mother became pregnant, and they had a new child. Even though I was the one who didn’t talk to my father, it still didn’t feel very good to see that he was practically replacing me. Great, now he could start a new family. Maybe this time he’ll be happy.

  However, even with a new family in his grasp, my father still engaged in a daily routine with me. Every evening at dinnertime, he would call out to me and ask if I wanted to eat dinner together. I always rejected him. At first I would say no. Sometimes I just ignored him. And sometimes, I even blew up at him, annoyed that he would keep asking even though it was the same answer every time. He asked me every day without fail, no matter how I responded. Instead, I would rather eat dinner by myself, when I wouldn’t have to see the new family my father had established.

  With my new little sister, my family relations only got worse. I didn’t try to talk to my father. I ignored my step-mother, no longer able to trust mothers. I didn’t play with my sister because she felt like such a foreign existence, my “replacement.” Ever since childhood, I was always alone in the house. And that lifestyle never seemed to change.

  Sometimes I would look up at the night sky, looking for stars. But every time I looked, I was only greeted by black darkness.

  Then, one day, when I was out with my friends, I ran into someone I never thought I’d see again.

  “Stella?”

  I turned around to find my mother gaping back at me. Tears formed in her eyes and she pulled me in for a tight hug.

  “Oh, my goodness, honey, it’s been over 3 years since I’ve seen you! Why didn’t you ever come to visit me?” she asked.

  Well, I didn’t want to see the shameless women who broke the family I once had, I thought. But instead of saying that, I replied, “I didn’t think it was necessary. I thought you would be living just fine with your new family.”

  “Oh, honey, no. Even if I don’t live with you anymore, we are still family. I still love you, you know? I’ll always want to see you.”

  Yeah, right… I shrugged. I had no
thing to say to that.

  Then she tensed up a bit. “How is your father doing?”

  For the first time I looked her in the eyes. Surprisingly, I saw a few traces of guilt there. So she actually did have some sympathy in her. I had assumed that she was heartless and cold.

  “He’s doing fine. He remarried and had a new kid with his new wife. They’re both very pretty.”

  Hearing this, my mother’s eyes softened. “How about you? How are you doing now?”

  I was taken aback a little. I really didn’t expect her to care despite her sweet words. A little dazed, I shrugged once more and looked down. “I guess I’m okay.”

  In response to this, she took my hand and led me away. By this time, my friends had notified me of their departure so I could have some time with my mother. She took me to a coffee shop nearby and told me to order anything.

  When we sat down with our food and drink, she put her hand over mine and said gently, “Look, Stella, I know we weren’t the best parents to you when you were younger. I know we neglected you and left you lonely all the time. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t love you. Every day, we would work hard for your sake. Everything we did was for you. Even the divorce.”

  This confused me. “What? That doesn’t make sense. I thought you divorced because of… the affair.”

  Mother shook her head. “Although that was the final trigger, it wasn’t the real reason. Honestly, your father and I stopped loving each other years ago. After you were born, there was a period of happiness, but following that was nothing but disaster. Argument after argument came, and we hardly got to spend any time together. Before we knew it, the only reason we stayed together was for you. But over time, we realized that splitting up would be wiser than letting you witness your family falling apart. We both wanted you to be happy, so we tried to give you the best future we could.”

  “Leaving me alone the entire time was hardly the way to do it.”

  The cruel line slipped out of my mouth before I even realized it. A short silence followed. Was that too harsh? My head had been down the entire conversation; for the first time, I looked up at her.

  With a pained expression on her face, my mother let out a sigh. “Yes, I realize that now. Only after I had my chance did I realize just how important quality time was.” Then she looked up and took my hands in hers. “I’m sorry, Stella. I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I know your life hasn’t been too easy or happy, but I was doing the best I possibly could as a mother. And I still am now. That’s why, honey, won’t you give me a second chance? Won’t you let me take back all that time I’ve lost with you?”

  My heart was pounding loudly in my ears. Without my notice, tears had begun to well up in my eyes. I dropped my head as I felt the tears falling and nodded. Yes, I was always distancing myself from my parents. Yes, I was always the one who put up a wall between us. But in reality, I just wanted them to be the one to close that distance and break down my walls. In reality, I just loved them to the point of loneliness. To me, this was what I’d been waiting for my whole life.

  For the first time, I realized that distancing myself from my parents did no good. In fact, it only worsened what could have been fixed. After I came to this realization, we spent a good few hours catching up. I decided that I would visit or hang out with my mom every week, if not more often. “Mom.” The word had a nice ring to it. A warm feeling spread throughout my body when I used it for the first time.

  To be honest, sometimes I still took out the jar of stars to reminisce about that significant memory; although I tried not to remember it, I missed that feeling of bliss so much. I also found the necklace that I lost. One day, it just appeared in my bag, and I’ve kept it there ever since, carrying it with me everywhere I go; I felt that maybe, just maybe, if I held onto the necklace, one day I would find those feelings again. For once, I felt that perhaps that fleeting happiness was finally in my grasp.

  When I came home, it was already evening, time for dinner.

  After the talk with Mom, I was determined to fix my relationship with my father and the “new” family. For the first time, I was happy about my father’s routine of asking me to eat with him. I realized that this was his way of reminding me that I was still his child. This was his way of saying that I couldn’t be replaced, and that he actually wanted me to be there with him. This was his love for me. And he offered it to me every day.

  I looked up at the sky when I reached my house, unconsciously looking for stars. My vision was somewhat blurred, but somehow, I felt secure. I was right before; stars are always there, even if you can’t see them. With this epiphany, I realized that a star was just like my parents’ love. I might have been blind to it or unable to see it, but throughout my whole life, it was always there. With this thought in mind, I reached into my bag and put on my treasured necklace.

  My heart was beating a bit wildly when I walked into the house. “I’m home,” I called out as I took off my shoes. What if he doesn’t ask today? What if he’s finally tired of me? What if he doesn’t want to love me anymore? Millions of questions and worries ran through my head.

  “Ah, Stella,” my dad said. “Welcome home. Would you like to have dinner with us tonight?”

  I took a deep breath and, for the first time, replied, “Yeah, I would like that, Dad.”

  The shocked expression on his face followed by the tears that welled up had to be the one of the happiest things I had ever seen. When I looked out the window that night, I saw the stars for the first time in seven years. They were shining the brightest I had ever seen. Finally, I was no longer alone. Finally, I had a family.

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