Trip to Kuching: Reflection on Expressing Love
By: Clara Felicia
Tags: Personal, Reflections, Life Lessons, Journaling

Being My Dad’s Replacement

Last time my mom went to Kuching for a routine medical checkup, she went without my dad. I was in his stead.

He said, “You never been there before, right? It’s better for you to go instead. I can go next time.”

We tried to convince him the other way around. He can have a routine medical checkup, while I mostly will wander around cluelessly around the hospital area. However, he insisted not to go. So, I went together with the fixed group: my mom, my grandma, my aunt, and uncle.

That’s my second trip abroad using land transportation, and my first trip abroad using private land transportation. My uncle drove his car alone for a roughly 12-hour trip, a long trip through Trans Kalimantan Road to our neighboring country, Malaysia.

As you see from the previous group composition, I was the only millennial in the group. Everyone in this group goes for the same goal, a medical checkup. I already imagined how it’ll turn out on my way.

There was no end to the conversation during the trip. Yet I barely talk to everyone because they speak in a different language I don’t completely understand. No problem. I understand it’s tiring to translate your mother language to another who can’t understand it all along the long trip, so I didn’t ask many questions. It doesn’t really matter, though. I got my gadget and is a person used to my own companion.

Me: Chinese in cover only

I thought I can converse normally with strangers once I arrived in Malaysia.

I was wrong. Most Chinese there speak in Chinese and Teo Chew (the language the whole group capable of speaking with me as the exception).

My facial feature screams I’m Chinese but I can’t speak both languages.

Thus, making me feel uncomfortable speaking in English.

Being the only oddball in the group, I often replied with an awkward smile whenever they tried to speak in Chinese and Teo Chew with me. Or I would try to speak in broken Malay (since Indonesian and Malay have a similar vocabulary with a different use). I didn’t speak English until I caught Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) on the 3rd day.

Yes, I caught IBS, thanks to staying up late when everyone else wired to sleep and wake up early. I only slept for roughly 3–4 hours. I finally used English to find meds at the nearest pharmacy. The pharmacist (she looks Chinese) was changing her language from Chinese to Teo Chew and Malay to English with ease while trying to figure out what language I could speak comfortably. How happy I’m finally can speak fluently.

However, the fact hit me.

Most professionals there can speak those languages.

Making them at least quadrilingual.

I was like, “Bye-bye, my self-esteem.”

SOUVENIRS: the common way to say you care

We finished all the checkup procedures on the third day. We changed our destination from Timberland Medical Center to shopping malls to buy souvenirs.

Most women I know enjoy shopping. I do, too.

When my family is looking for clothing, I usually go to these options:

Book / stationery store Pharmacy Electronic and gadget (especially related to the sound system or hearing gear)

Upon entering the mall, we split up. I immediately walked my way to the nearest pharmacy and spent my time there while my mom browsed the clothing store.

I’m the person who won’t buy souvenirs for other people other than me unless asked to do so, or I’m sure enough what they want/like. Other than that, I consider it to be troublesome.

My mom is the opposite of me. She browses souvenirs while thinking about other family members. She’s the one who reminded me to get something for my dad from the pharmacy.

“At least get something for him as a way saying you care and remember him during this trip. He kinda sent you here anyway,” my mom said.

To be honest, I have no idea what I should get for my dad.

Lets breakdown the options:

Food and drinks, mostly those with preservatives or are sweet, what my parents avoid. Cross that. Medicine or vitamins, they already got enough from the doctor. Clothing, my taste and theirs are different.

Plus, most of the time they say I have bad taste.

So it’s also out of the option. Electronics, out of my budget. Books, they don’t like books.

I ended up following my mom’s suggestion to get him another supplement.

While my mom got him some pants and t-shirts.

I remember her enthusiasm when she was stating what kind of t-shirt my dad likes and how picky he is in choosing one. I assumed my mom knew my dad best, so there’s no problem getting him that.

The Pain of Expressing Love

Turned out, my dad doesn’t like it.

He said it bluntly to my mom said that it’s bad and a waste of money.

His tone was cold with a hint of contempt. No “thank you”, at all.

I was eating together with my mom when he said it while walking passing the dining room. I wasn’t the target, yet I felt how painful those words were.

The room became silent. With a sad and disappointed tone, my mom broke the silence. She told me if someone is so ungrateful like my dad, no one would be happy to give him anything.

I silently listen and suggested for next time don’t get him anything unless he said he wants it.

I reflected on that case and found out I’m often in my mom’s shoes.

But only inside my mind. Because most of the time I won’t even try in the risk's face of getting hurt by disapproval.

I want to express my love by giving a present.

By nature, I like a surprise better than getting something after asking directly what they want.

Thus, I prefer not asking for a souvenir/present unless I want it badly.

For me, the thoughts that matter.

I’m delighted by how and why you get something for me more than what you get for me. The story and chronology until you decided the goods for me is what I consider “thinking” about me.

And that’s what I do and expect when I get someone something as souvenirs or present. I believe my mom share this common side with me, so hearing what my dad said hurt a lot.

I also can imagine why my dad gives such a response.

I don’t like people wasting money on things I don’t like.

I only dislike how he said it to my mom.

I once bought cosmetics and perfume for my mom and she didn’t like it, too. She reminded me to not buy her random perfume or any cosmetics as souvenirs or present because it’s a personal good I rarely sure what she likes and good with. Letting me know that condition reduces the risk of me wasting money on good she won’t use with understanding. I think my dad could do the same, too.

Conclusion: The Meds for the Pain of Expressing Love

I reflected on why I suggested my mom not get him anything.

Behind that suggestion, there is fear of rejection.

I believe we face that fear each time we try to express our love to significant others. But the different languages of love cause us to misunderstand and misunderstood. The pain inflicts us with fear, making us think, “It’s better not to try rather than experiencing heartache.”

Not trying is the same as avoiding the problem. It may be an instant solution but not healthy in the long run. Especially in a relationship, it’ll flock together with another small problem. Each party stops communicating with each other and prefers second-guessing. Trust between them rust. And before they know it, the damage already massive. The relationship is beyond salvation.

I believe love and pain always come hand in hand.

It’s inevitable. However, with proper communication, we can avoid unnecessary pain. Or make it more bearable.