How Sweet the Bitter Soup Page 20

  When she came out, she gave us an article describing the latest TB treatments. She did this in a rush, looking over her shoulder a bit, again going out of her way to help. Thanks to her, we now knew that William’s doctor’s treatment was in exact alignment with the latest Western medicine.

  Well, I learned it. I guess William had known it all along.

  Eventually, the side effects of the medication wore off and William began to regain his strength. He quit his job at the school and went into business with a friend of ours, which proved to be a good choice. He had wanted to leave the school for a while— mainly because teaching wasn’t what he had ever intended to do, but also because the gossip and small-mindedness were taking their toll. We were both ready for him to have some anonymity. The opportunity with KJ would not be about money, but we did hope it would be about experience.

  When William quit, I put in a proposal to not continue as the ELC director the following year but rather to take on a more low-key position in the secondary school. It was a bold move for me, and I couldn’t have done it without William’s support. We made this decision so that I could really give myself a chance to work on my writing, every single day. I hadn’t always been a writer, but I’d had the idea to turn some of my experiences in China into a memoir, and I had a few ideas for articles I might want to submit to a magazine as well. I felt great working on my writing, and it was a part of myself I hoped to develop more.

  I knew that I had done a great job directing the center and I would probably have had even more career success the following year in that position. But I also knew that remaining there would leave me less time to pursue my dream of getting my ideas down on paper. I really felt it was time to try.

  The school agreed to let me transfer departments and position, and even let me choose my replacement, someone to whom I was very comfortable turning over the ELC. I was excited about the upcoming year. I would come to work and do a good job, but I would leave work at work. I would simply teach.

  In the meantime, summer was almost upon us and good things were in store there, too.

  chapter 39

  Ihadn’t mentioned William’s illness to my mom because I didn’t want her to worry and the doctors had told us he was not contagious at this point. He was getting used to the medications, and his health was slowly improving.

  My mom was coming to visit. I was so thrilled about this that I couldn’t stand it. After all, she hadn’t met William yet; nobody in my family had. And for her to come to China was just amazing. She had only been on an airplane twice in her life—to Seattle and back—and now she would board a plane for the other side of the world. This was such a luxury for someone in my family. We simply didn’t travel, except maybe via the family station wagon when we were all a lot younger. I’d never thought I’d see the day when my mom would come to China, but now that day had come. And I couldn’t wait for her to get there.

  I picked her up in Hong Kong and we rode the bus together back to Guangzhou. William met us at the bus stop, looking as handsome and sweet as ever. He had a gigantic smile on his face and said, “Hi, Mom,” as soon as he saw her.

  “Who’s this handsome guy here?” Mom said, and gave him a big hug.

  I think I started crying right there. We took the bus home together and I remember that William thought Mom was so cute. He loved her gold-studded hat. He just thought she was precious. I guess I did too. She had gotten her nails done and acquired a few new outfits for the trip. Actually, the clothes were hand-me-downs from others, but she’d had them fixed up and cleaned so that they were new to her.

  Mom had been doing odd jobs for people from church or neighbors for months in order to build her “China fund.” She had even put a notice in the church bulletin announcing that she was available for babysitting, cleaning, errands, or anything else because she was raising money to visit her daughter and son-in-law in China. She’d worked so hard, and in the end she’d saved almost one thousand dollars.

  Throughout the trip, Mom kept coming back to her shopping list. Not for herself, but for everyone back home. She had very specific things that neighbors or friends from church, or the clerk at Walgreens, or the girl at the McDonald’s drive-thru where she got her Diet Cokes—had requested. And if they hadn’t requested something, she had something in mind for them. She looked at the list several times a day and she took such joy in adding to her bag of treasures, every single thing for someone else.

  This trip was such a dream for her. She was like a little kid in some ways, more energetic than I’d seen her in years. She worked so hard to learn a few phrases in Mandarin and to truly be open to the experience of being in China. I began to see my mother as the amazing woman that she truly is. I will never forget being at the Great Wall with her. It was entirely magical to see this wonder through her eyes and to feel her excitement. It didn’t fully hit me until that moment that my sixty-five-year-old mother had gotten on a plane and taken her first international flight all the way to China to visit me. I couldn’t imagine what this meant to her. More than that, I realized what it meant to me. I was filled with so much love for my mom as I watched her and William talking and walking up those steps. I was also filled with so much love for William as I watched how patient he was with Mom.

  I, of course, felt rather tense. I know this makes me sound like a terrible person, but it’s the truth. It was my natural response to being around my mom. The thought of getting a wheelchair and having William push her around in it stressed me out—but he didn’t mind. He put on my little sunhat and pushed her around the Summer Palace and Tiananmen Square, showing her the time of her life. He was the one who made her trip wonderful, not me. He taught her so much and truly listened to her, really trying to get to know his wife’s mother. He saw her as she was—a sweet, kind woman who was opening her heart to China. I, meanwhile, mostly saw her as Mom, and couldn’t she hurry up a bit? We had a schedule to keep.

  Many months later, when we were in Chicago for Christmas, we watched the videotape of her trip. Not only did that give me the chance to see my mom through more objective eyes, it also allowed me to see myself more clearly, too. I watched us on the Great Wall. Mom’s face was as red as a tomato. She was sort of hunched over, with sweat dripping from her face, and was holding on to the wall for dear life. Her face had an expression of such agony. I was walking ahead of her and William was taping us both. I actually said in the video, “Okay now, Mom, if you can speed it up a bit, we can totally still get to the Summer Palace before lunch.”

  At that moment, she looked up, and if looks could kill I would have been catapulted off that great wall and fallen to my death.

  As we sat there watching this that night as a family, we were all horrified. But, having the sense of humor that we do, all of us—my mom included—laughed. What a jerk I was! And what a trooper Mom was! I mean, when I think objectively of what I put her through and how well she did, I am amazed. She had joked about how the farthest she had walked in Chicago was from her front door to her van. Now, she was walking all over Beijing and Guangzhou in almost unbearable heat and humidity—with an annoying, pushy daughter who wouldn’t stop reminding her of the schedule. She and William had nicknamed me “the pusher” during our Beijing trip, but until I watched the video six months later I didn’t realize how true that was.

  She did it though. The woman who thought she couldn’t walk around the block.. ..did it. She walked up and on the Great Wall. She found something inside herself that pushed her, something even more powerful than her pushy daughter. When I think of everything my mom had been through in her life, I want to rise up and celebrate her achievement that day, and throughout the trip. She did things she never thought she could do. She broke every limit, traipsing around China.

  Having my mom visit me in China was wonderful. In some ways it was stressful, but that wasn’t her fault. It’s just a house-guest thing. However, that got intensified to the hundredth power when William’s family came too. We had invited his pa
rents because we thought it would be nice for them to meet Mom, and vice versa. However, William’s mom opted to bring her friend and that friend opted to bring her kid. Oh, and they brought William’s niece too. Does this sound like a recipe for a cross-cultural utopia or a disaster waiting to happen?

  I think if it had just been William’s parents, things would have been fine. The friend was nice enough, but her kid was completely annoying—a rather obnoxious nine-year-old boy— and although the baby was cute and I loved her because she was my niece, I still didn’t agree with the Chinese toilet training method. Many Chinese parents do not use a diaper. They allow the kids to go to the bathroom on the floor. I realize this sounds insane to outsiders, but that’s the way it is in China. The rationale behind it is rooted in poverty, in that people couldn’t afford the luxury of diapers, but it has become acceptable no matter one’s economic status. It’s also deeper than that, though, and seems to have something to do with personal responsibility. Most Chinese children are completely potty-trained by their second birthday, so parents are willing to tolerate their kids going to the bathroom on the floor, should they miss the toilet, in the meantime.

  Whatever the rationale was, it really didn’t matter. All I knew was that I did object rather strongly to a baby coming into my house without a diaper and freely pooping on my floor!

  Needless to say, this caused some tension for me, but I was at least used to the concept. My mom, on the other hand, was completely mortified. In her eyes, here were her daughter’s in-laws, waltzing in and allowing a child to go to the bathroom on her floor. In fact, yes, that’s exactly what was happening, but when one has no cultural context, it seems rude, backward, and even crazy. Unfortunately, her tension and anger on my behalf made me more tense, and I stupidly directed my anger at her.

  That part of Mom’s visit was this strange combination of heaven and hell. It was hell when we were all in our tiny apartment together and the friend’s kid was running around being obnoxious as the baby pooped on the floor and I thought Mom would jump out of her skin with shock and dismay. But there were also moments of fun and joy, when we sat around together as a family and completely enjoyed each other’s company despite the language barrier. William’s mom and my mom exchanged knitting methods. We looked at pictures together. When the baby wasn’t using the floor as a toilet, she did adorable things that we all watched together. We took the family to the lake on a cool afternoon and I captured photos of William sitting between his mom and my mom, all three of them genuinely laughing and smiling. There were also moments where I could see the sheer pride in William’s dad’s eyes, so full of love for his son and so proud of the life he had made for himself.

  When everyone left, I felt a combination of relief and sadness. It’s usually after the fact that we realize how amazing our life’s experiences are, and this was one of those times. A couple of weeks later, as I looked at the photos from the week when we were all together, I just sat and cried. I thought about how unique our lives really were and about what a special opportunity we’d had. It had begun with me and William finding our common ground, and now we had managed to include our parents. I felt grateful for the chance we’d been given and I felt proud of us for surviving it, despite the challenges, and finding a way to share our lives with them.

  chapter 40

  The start of the new school year reminded us that the carefree days of summer were gone and a new structure would take effect. So many little and not-so-little events had occurred over the summer and now entering autumn (in spite of the heat and humidity) was exciting. William had been studying about my faith and had taken it upon himself to better understand what I believed. He’d even taken a course and had been learning more formally from our friend Harry, another church member.

  The laws in China, we learned, were evolving, and William had started coming to church with me, simply out of curiosity. This was allowed by virtue of the fact that he was married to a United States citizen. I hadn’t known that he was doing more than studying and accompanying me. He told me later that he had felt more of an emotional desire to learn about this concept of a loving God, a Creator, and what that might mean for him as an individual.

  “I had no idea you were taking this so seriously.” I’d told him when he shared this one evening as we were preparing dinner. “I guess I thought you were just coming to be nice, and to save me the trip of going alone. Even that, I really appreciated.” And than I added. “You know that it was never a condition for me that you join my church. You know that, right?”

  For some reason it was important that he knew that. I felt strongly about spiritual matters, and my faith was important to me. So important, in fact, that it was personal and nothing to be taken lightly. I would have never encouraged a superficial conversion, just to make me happy. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t doing that, as kind as that may have been.

  “No, I really feel something, Lori. I did from the beginning. I feel like there is truth to what you are learning about and there is something really . . . just . . . good about how you live your life. When I’m at church or around those church members, I guess I feel peace. I was curious from the beginning. Once Harry started teaching me more directly about the doctrines, I can’t deny that this is something I want to practice and live for myself.”

  I think I started shaking. I’d been cutting peppers and I put the knife down. I looked intently at him. “What are you saying, exactly?” I’d asked, not wanting to get my hopes up, but already knowing I was about to be very happy, as if it were possible to be any happier.

  “I would like to be baptized. I’d like to be a part of this church and learn more and serve others the way I see so many good people are doing.”

  Tears welled in my eyes and I felt nothing but warm and peaceful all over. I figured this may have happened eventually, but I had imagined it would be years into our future. This was a miracle and I just felt happy.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, looking back at me just as intently as I was looking at him. He’d turned off the stove. We stood facing each other just smiling and really looking into each other’s eyes.

  “I’m thinking that this makes me so happy and I’m so happy for you, personally. I love that you can see and I guess, feel, this feeling that comes with having a meaningful faith. I’m just happy. I feel like this will bring us even closer.”

  With that, he reached out and pulled me into the softest and strongest hug ever.

  After a more formal process of studying and learning and meeting with members and church leaders, we were able to obtain permission for William to be baptized right in Guangzhou. The building where we met each week had a small gym on the first floor. In that gym was a very small Jacuzzi. On an unforgettable day that fall, William entered the waters of baptism in the most untraditional way I could imagine. Dressed in white, he and Harry stood in that tiny space with friends gathered around. There was a special prayer and then Harry immersed William in the water.

  He came up, wiped his eyes, and smiled. The biggest smile I’d ever seen him smile. I was mindful. Very mindful and very grateful. Life has its bitter times, but this was one of the sweetest moments ever. I knew right then that I would never forget this.

  chapter 41

  Earlier that fall, we’d decided to apply for a tourist visa so that we could travel to the US together for Christmas. Mom would be starting her radiation treatment for breast cancer, and since the rest of the family hadn’t yet met William, we thought it would be wonderful to go home for Christmas.

  Mom had called the previous week to tell me about her diagnosis. She’d already been through so much, and I was shocked that someone in my immediate family had cancer. Chrissy was so worried; the news had had hit her hard.

  “I got some news at the doctor today, Lori,” Mom told me almost immediately after I answered the phone that day. “It’s not good.”

  “What did they say?” I asked, full of concern. “Is it your blood pressure?”
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br />   “No, that’s about the same, but they found a lump in my breast and they’ve confirmed it’s cancer.”

  Her voice was shaky, but I could tell she was trying to sound calm, probably not wanting to worry me too much.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. This is awful. Do you want me to come home?” I hadn’t even thought through how that would work, but I meant it. If she needed me, I would go.

  “No, no, right now things are okay,” she said. “I do need to do radiation treatment and it will start in a week or so.”

  We went on to talk about the details, and then Chrissy and I talked too. This was one of the times the guilt hit me—but I also knew that I had my own problems. I felt guilty for not being there, but I knew I was also dealing with William’s health problems here. My heart felt heavy.

  How did my Mom have breast cancer, on top of everything else she has already been through? Cancer. Breast cancer. It hurt deeply and numbed me at the same time. I wanted so badly to be in two places at once. This is a time I should be with my Mom. And yet. And yet I wasn’t.

  It took us several weeks to get an appointment with the United States consulate. We took turns calling, sitting on hold, and usually getting hung up on. Finally, though, William got through and we had our appointment for October 10.

  He worked so hard in preparation for that day—getting all his documents together and writing letters explaining his plans and why he wanted to travel to America. We had done the research; we knew what was expected; and we had a good feeling that we would leave that day with his visa in hand. After all, he was married to a citizen and simply wanted to go home with her for Christmas.

  We arrived at the gates of the American consulate in Guangzhou before the sun came up and took our place in line. There was only one person ahead of us, but before long the line behind us extended farther than we could see. The Chinese have a saying that translates to “People mountain, people sea,” and on mornings like this, I knew why. There were people everywhere—a mountain and sea of people waiting for their chance to go to America.