Viv

Arizona, 2010

Viv

My mom was washing dishes at the sink. She insisted on washing dishes by hand, even though we've always had a dishwasher for years. I am a zombie. I am a zombie now and possibly forever because my dad died in his stupid Mazda. A pointless car accident took the life that was most precious and important to me.

I have stopped praying, stopped eating everything except for crackers and I've quit sleeping. It's only been a week since the funeral, and I can already tell I can't go on like this.

"Hey, Mom? We should talk." I hated saying those words.

My mom looked over her tiny shoulder. "OK, Viv."

"I'm moving away."

My mom had her back to me, so I couldn't see her expression, but I heard a dish drop and break in the sink.

Be firm. Stick to your guns.

"Why you wanna do that?" my mom had finally turned around and was slowly drying her hands on a dish towel that had seen better days.

"Because I'm 26 and I've never lived outside of Arizona?!"

"What so bad about Arizona?"

I sighed. I knew my mom wouldn't understand. In my mom's mind, the only child should always live close to the family. Though she had lived in America for over half of her life, some things about her were still very Chinese.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong with Arizona. I just want to see somewhere new."

"So take a vacation. This is your home. Your father just die. You gonna leave me all alone?"

Aaand cue guilt trip. I had been expecting it.

"You aren't alone, Mom, you have friends. You've lived in this same neighborhood, gone to the same church for almost thirty years!" I tried to reject the guilt.

"But you are family."

"I'm grown, Mom. You need to cut the cord." I almost laughed a bit, because sometimes I feel so distant from her that I wonder if that cord had ever been attached. "I can't stay here. I feel trapped and antsy without Dad. I just need a new start. Please understand."

"You can't run away from sadness, Viv."

But I can sure try.