Forgiveness

People always say family is the biggest gift from God. In my eyes, my family has never been a gift. It was a burden, an unbearable burden to my life.

I had a strange relationship with my family, especially my mum. After I was born, my family put me in my grandparents’ home in China. And that was probably the happiest period in my life, being innocent, not worrying about anything, receiving unlimited amounts of love from my grandparents. But God put an end to all this when I moved back to Hong Kong at age three. The endless verbal and physical abuse became a monster chasing after me, making ot hard for me to breathe.

In my memory, my mum was a tough figure. She was a traditional Chinese woman, uneducated, believing she should have absolute authority in the family. And the way to maintain her unbeatable authority was through violence. You know, in the old traditional parenting style, using violence was common. In my childhood, my dad not often present. Most of the time he was in the Mainland. The financial condition of my family was very poor hence my mum decided to work when I was in primary one. As a consequence, I was a six-year-old kid expected to take care of herself. And I guessed that was how my personality has become shaped: tough and independent.

I remember on one afternoon, it was muggy and cloudy. My mum forgot to pick me up after school which she had promised to do. My Class teacher called my dad, my mum, even my aunts. But none of them were able to pick me up. More accurately, no one wanted to pick me up. Sitting on the sofa outside the school office, eating M&M's given by my teacher, I knew that from the bottom of my heart, no one would come to pick me up. Therefore, I told Miss Cheung, ‘I know how to get home. Don’t worry. Mum has taught me many times.’ After confirming with Miss Cheung at least 10 times, I was able to persuade her that I could go home myself. Indeed, I didn’t know the way to go home. I was hanging around on the streets, going in and out of different shops. And eventually, I got exhausted. So, I walked into an estate building, took the lift up to a certain floor and sat on the floor. I forgot whether it was out of curiosity or wanting to get attention, but I threw my water bottle from the high floor and it caught the attention of the security guard. He called the police and my mum ended up picking me up at the police station. Predictably, I got beaten up after going back home. This time was a clothes rack. My mum used to beat me with different kinds of tools, a clothes rack, a rod, or even a spatula.

‘How come you are so stupid? Don’t you know the route to go home? Who teach you to throw things from such a high floor? I’m telling you now, Yeung Yuen Yu, if you don’t know the way to go home, then don’t come back anymore! Don’t create trouble for our family! I should have left you in the Mainland!’ These words struck me like a sharp penknife, stabbing into my heart.

‘Say sorry to me now! Now!’ Whenever she beat me, she would tell me to apologize for doing something wrong despite the fact that I didn’t.

‘Never,’ I looked down on the floor, tolerating the beating as usual. Not even once had I begged her to stop beating me, because I thought it was a sign of surrender under her unreasonable authority. As I said, I was a tough person.

Saying sorry was a hard thing to do. In my heart, saying sorry was a sacred ritual. It means that I had to admit that I was wrong. And most importantly, learn to forgive. I believed that all people would have certain sudden moment that separating them from the state of childhood. For me, the distinct moment that marking me off from my childhood years was learning to forgive. And that moment happened when I was thirteen.

I was having my history lesson. Suddenly my class teacher told me to come out of the classroom. ‘Your mum has gone to the hospital. She passed out while working. Go to see her quickly.’ Followed by shock, I rushed to the Princess Margaret Hospital.

Silent room, white wall, cold air with the pungent smell of disinfectant that specifically belonged to the hospital. Lying on the bed, the person who closed her eyes was my mum. Sitting beside her bed, I tried to examine every inch of her face in detail. When did she cut her hair? Did she dye her hair? It looks so brown. Looking down, her face was pale. The wrinkles on her forehead, the crow’s feet around her eyes due to time, were so prominent that they could immediately catch my eye. And her hair, even she had dyed it, some gray hairs could still be seen easily. At that instant, I realized that my mum was getting old. The first time I felt sympathetic to her. A tough woman, looking so vulnerable now.

She was unavoidably defeated by the enemy called time.

She woke up and staring at me.

‘Hey, you've come to see me?’ She asked.

‘Yea, ar…the teacher told me.’ I replied without looking at her. ‘So, what’s the matter with you…why did you pass out?’

‘Well, the being old thing. Not a big problem.’ She answered.

Then we became silent for a long time.

She turned her body to another side, facing opposite to me.

‘Yu, I’m sorry, for everything. I know it’s too much… for you. I don’t mean to do that to you, all these years. The medicine, they affected me so much…I can’t control myself…’ I knew she was sobbing, I could hear that.

‘I still remember when you just came back to Hong Kong, you were so small, you cried all night, non-stop, so I just held you in my arms, all night long. I put you down on bed, you immediately started crying. So I held you back again, again and again. No sleep all night.’ She smiled while saying.

I knew that, this was the moment. I had been preparing for this moment for many years.

‘Mum, I’m sorry, for all these years. For blaming all this on you.’

I finally learned to forgive someone, that I hated and loved at the same time. And I guessed that was the beauty of forgiveness.